Fable of Happiness (Fable #2) by Pepper Winters

My body was nearing critical, yet I couldn’t rest. My mind was creeping closer to a complete shutdown, but I had too many things still to do.

I had to burn Storymaker’s paperwork, but first I had to read them, hoping to find the homes of my family, so I could return them to their true loved ones.

I had to undo all the evil he’d done, so I could somehow, someway, deserve my own salvation.

Unfortunately, the longer I lived at Fables on my own, the more my thoughts twisted and churned. The evil in the house was repugnant, spread by blood, flies, and the unmistakable scent of rot.

Fables had become a crypt.

Because of me.

I was a murderer.

I had their blackened souls on my hands, and that blackness seeped inside me. Molecule by molecule, drop by drop, their filth spread from my fingers to my wrists and my wrists to my arms. Inching through my bloodstream, coating my lungs, my heart, my bones until it reached my mind.

Until it slipped into my skull and claimed me.

You’re as bad as them.

You’re evil.

Diseased.

I tried to wash it away.

I became obsessive.

Days turned into weeks as I cleaned carpets and bleached bedding.

I scrubbed so fucking hard, the blood I cleaned up was replaced with my own, proving that I was the same as them.

I bled red. Same as them.

I was tainted. Same as them.

And when I looked in a mirror, all I saw was them.

A man intent on hurting others.

A man who had hurt others.

So I smashed those mirrors for telling lies. I rained shards all over the floor for showing the truth.

The truth that I was a man alone.

Alone because he deserved to be alone.





CHAPTER TEN

HE STOOD BY THE window.

His silhouette menacing and dangerous in the dark. Meager moonlight etched shadows with silver, revealing the rope that had been around his ankle now lay loose and abandoned on his carpet bed.

I froze on the threshold. The plates I held trembled as fear skated down my back.

He’s untied himself.

Shit.

That shouldn’t have happened unless he was awake long enough to work the rope.

Which means...

Either he’d remembered who he was, or he’d lost himself completely to his nightmares. Either way, I was probably in trouble.

Looking over my shoulder, I debated backtracking to the kitchen. Of tiptoeing from the house and going for help now that he showed enough improvement to survive alone. But then I looked back at him. Truly looked, and my heart panged.

His shoulders rolled in the shadows, hands balled at his sides. His broken arm still bandaged with the splint. His entire aura spoke of someone who’d woken in a world he didn’t understand. Who needed a guide or at the very least...a friend.

But beneath that aura was another and another. Layers upon layers, twisting up a man who could snap at any moment.

Make a decision, Gem.

Leave or take a chance.

Each one came with consequences.

My idiotic heart couldn’t decide, but my feet chose for me. I backed up a step, taking the safe way, only to stiffen as he murmured, “I know you’re there.”

I swallowed hard, trying to read his voice—to guess which Kas I would be dealing with tonight.

Slowly, he turned from the window and faced me. His gaze pierced through the dark, trapping me in place. His stare still held power and chemistry, pebbling my nipples and increasing my heartbeat with equal parts connection and concern. “Don’t leave when you just got here.”

“I, eh—I brought dinner.” I raised the plates higher, showing off the rapidly cooling eggplant. Nervousness made me chatty. “Are you hungry? I know I am. I cooked some veggies. I felt like something warm. That’s probably why the lights went out. I used the oven and—”

“Don’t be nervous. You cooked for me. That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done.”

I clamped my mouth closed, cursing myself for not leaving. This version of Kas already played with my mind. I liked this one. This one was genuine and watched me as if he’d been in love with me his entire life.

“Come here.” He held out his unbroken arm. “I want to thank you.”

I didn’t budge.

Our eyes locked and a familiar tug of war began. Somehow, his body summoned mine, but as usual, my mind was stronger. I stayed where I was, clutching my plates like a double-handed sword.

“Fine.” Biting his bottom lip, he swayed forward and crossed the room. “I’ll come to you.” His steps were laborious, aches and pains obvious from his tumble down the cliff. He moved as if he was ancient but also...youthful. Wary as well as welcoming. Jaded as well as eager.

All instincts told me to back the hell away.

To run.

But I stood like a stupid statue as he bypassed his bed on the carpet, closed the distance between us, and took the two plates from my shaking hands. “Thank you.”

His voice wasn’t one I’d heard before. Not the violent slice of the man who’d tried multiple times to strangle me. Not the heavy emptiness of a man begging for pain to prevent others from being touched. And not the beautiful timbre of an innocent asking me out on a date.

This was more.

Deeper, richer, sultry, and sweet.

“You’ve always taken such good care of me,” he whispered as he placed the food on the side table, careful to protect the meal but also discarding it for the moment. “I wouldn’t have been able to survive here without you.”