Fable of Happiness (Fable #2) by Pepper Winters



The soft lumpiness of blankets appeared beneath my bare feet.

He stopped pulling me and dropped to his knees, yanking me down with him.

His lips were on mine a second later. His breath hot on my cheek, his dark taste making me drunk with each sweep of his tongue.

“Wait—” I tried to break the kiss. To breathe.

“No.” He grabbed my chin and captured my mouth again, deepening the kiss, pushing me backward until I lay beside him.

He continued corrupting me, kissing his way along my jaw before dropping to bite my neck.

I shivered.

I grew wet.

I had to put a stop to this before it was too late.

Planting a hand on his naked chest, I pushed. “Stop.”

I anticipated a fight, but he pulled away, his lips red and scruff almost as wild as his long, knotted hair. He paused, a question in his stare. A question that seemed to hurt him—hurt him enough that he wasn’t prepared to voice it. He looked as nervous as I felt.

That nervousness made me want to kiss him again. To give him some assurance that his past was over and whatever happened in the future, he would never be subjected to things outside his control again. However, something else burned my tongue, and I had to ask.

“Who...who do you think I am?” The question fell heavy and solid between us, a rock in the night.

He frowned as if I’d asked a stupid thing, then scowled deeper as if he couldn’t put a finger on an answer. Slowly, his face fell, his eyes darting to the left as if the knowledge was just out of reach.

Letting me go, he exhaled and rolled onto his back. He flinched as if his bruises and cuts from his fall only made themselves known now. Cradling his broken arm, he stared at the ceiling.

I was grateful to the scant moonlight; without it, I wouldn’t see the carousel of thoughts on his face.

For a long while, he was quiet. He stayed on his back, and I propped myself up on my elbows, watching him from my stomach. Finally, finally, he whispered, “I don’t know who you are.”

I sucked in a breath, even though I’d expected such an answer. “Who did you think I was...before.”

He half-smiled, self-deprecating and frustrated. “When I realized you weren’t Quell, I thought you were my fable.”

I reared upright. “Your fable? What does that mean?”

My mind shot back to the dorm upstairs. To the identical books on each pillow. To the fable each kid was named after.

Kas had chosen one based on a genie and giving his wishes to others. How could he think I was—

“You look like the genie who visited me when I was out-of-my-mind drunk.” He snorted. “I should’ve known I was drunk when I started seeing beautiful women.” He scoffed harder than he snorted. “A beautiful woman who wasn’t trying to rape me, that is.”

I didn’t know what the hell to say to that, so I stayed quiet.

Another few minutes passed before he added, “She said it was my turn. That the wishes I’d given others were now mine, and all I had to do was ask for what I wanted.”

He didn’t continue, forcing me to ask, “And did you?”

“Wish?” He turned his head, his tangled hair splaying around his head on the pillow. “Yes. I had nothing else. No one else left to gift the wishes to. I was free to be selfish and think of myself.”

“Thinking of yourself doesn’t make you selfish, Kas.”

He shrugged, looking away. “I asked for three things. Two of which she granted me.”

“Can you tell me?”

He kept his eyes downcast, murmuring, “I wished for this place to be forgotten. That all the people associated with it would die.”

“And?”

“And that my family would be kept safe.” He looked up, almost shy as if I’d mock him for such a noble wish. Didn’t he see that even though he’d used his wishes, he’d still used them to benefit others? There was nothing in those requests about him personally. Nothing to help—

“My third wish never came true, though.” Running his fingers down the splint binding his broken arm, he shrugged again. “I understand why. I’ve done too much. Caused too much damage.”

Kneeling beside him, I couldn’t fight the urge not to reach out. Resting my hand on the top of his, I asked quietly, “What was your third wish?”

I already knew.

I knew the fable.

I’d read the book.

And I saw the wish in his eyes. The haunting need to believe he was worthy of it someday, even though he still believed he didn’t.

“Happiness,” he breathed. “I wished for happiness.”

And once again, I found myself playing along with his hallucinations. “Well, you’re in luck, Kassen Sands.” I bent over him, whispering in his ear. “I am who you think I am. And your third wish will come true. I’ll make sure of it.”

He sucked in a breath. His entire body vibrated. Then he grabbed me, spun me, and tucked my back against his front. Spooning me with his body, he threw his leg over mine, trapping me better than any rope or chain.

“I’ll be yours forever if you grant it.” He nuzzled the back of my neck. “Completely yours. Eternally in your debt. If you make me happy? God, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you in return.” He placed a delicate kiss on my nape, inhaling me as if he couldn’t bear to let me go.