Fable of Happiness (Fable #2) by Pepper Winters

Argh!

I glanced at the cuff.

I should’ve run when I had the chance.

Both of us breathed hard, ignoring each other.

With quietness came a smidgen of propriety. I forced myself to remember all I’d learned about this man. The book of fables on prison-style single beds. The scribbles on the walls from children who’d been used to satisfy monsters.

If anyone was entitled to act like a bastard, it was Kas.

I just had to use the calm approach and not let him scare me into aggression. Dragging my legs up, I sat in a cross-legged position, cursing the bite of leather, and ignoring the fact that he grabbed the leash as it slithered over the blankets when I moved.

He clutched it tight, an unwanted but highly obvious link between us.

It seemed Kas had finally woken.

His mind wasn’t playing tricks on him, and his concussion had receded long enough for him to remember who I was. As far as he recalled, I’d trespassed, gotten on my knees for him, allowed him to fuck me in the rain, then dragged me back to his lair like a beast.

Silence reigned between us, screaming with tension the longer we stewed in mutual dislike.

I’d wished for this day to come. Begged for the moment he was lucid enough that I could leave and get help. But now that he was back to his old self, I remembered why I didn’t like him very much. Why we fought like enemies. Why I’d done my best to guard myself against him.

I’d almost forgotten how monstrous he could be.

Almost.

Well, he’s done a spectacular job of reminding me.

“I won’t put up with this, you know,” I muttered, keeping my eyes on the blanket bunched in my fists. “This is the thanks you give me for looking after you? If it is, it’s no surprise that your family didn’t come back—”

Oh, shit.

What happened to the calm approach?

Slowly, he tipped his head up, his entire body going alarmingly still. “What did you just say?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean...” I huffed, allowing honesty to infuse my apology. “You’ve made me angry. That was harsh. Way, way too harsh. I don’t know why I said that. That isn’t me at all.” I snorted under my breath. “It seems you bring out the worst in me, but that isn’t an excuse. Especially knowing what I know—”

Gem, quiet for God’s sake!

His head tilted to the side like a dangerous raptor. “Know what exactly?”

Wonderful.

I was determined to die today.

Bracing my shoulders, even though all I wanted to do was bury under the blankets, I replied, “I know enough.”

His eyes narrowed to slits, hiding his endless pain. “Know enough about what?” He shuddered, swaying on the spot, his forehead furrowing as he fought to stay awake.

My heart bolted into my ribs. How much should I tell him? What would trigger him? What would help?

“Well?” he snapped.

I frowned, watching him closely. His color switched from sickly gray to horrifying green. He didn’t look well. Not at all. “Perhaps...perhaps you should lie down. You shouldn’t force anything. You’ll only make your recovery harder. You’re awake now, and that’s good news. It means you’re healing, but you shouldn’t rush it.”

His throat rippled as he swallowed hard. “Tell me. What exactly do you think you know about me?”

Before I could forbid my mouth from speaking, I once again put my damn foot in it. “I know you don’t trust me, but if you just pause for a moment, if you take note of what I’ve done, you’ll understand that all your secrets are safe with me. I didn’t hurt you while you were unconscious. I haven’t taken advantage of you. I took no liberties whatsoever. I’m not like them. I promise—”

“Not like who?” His voice went deceptively quiet. Too quiet. Like a knife hidden in velvet. He tugged the leash, jerking my leg from my cross-legged position. “Tell me.”

My eyes fell on the cuff around my ankle. Thick and robust, the leash wasn’t a toy or part of a kinky bedroom kit. The leather wasn’t soft and pliable—definitely not the flimsy type for tame sex games between a happy husband and wife. The aging brown was stained with dark copper splashes; scratch marks marred its historic smoothness.

My stomach turned over. “Is...is that blood?”

Kas nodded as if I’d asked about the weather. “Of course. All of ours combined into one sinister smudge.” His eyes were cold and empty. “Now, tell me what I want to know. Otherwise, your blood can join the smudge too.”

I wrung my hands, glancing across to the sideboard where the ruined dinner I’d cooked the night before sat abandoned along with the kitchen blade I’d kept for protection.

Fat lot of good it did me across the room.

I had an awful, awful feeling if I told Kas what I knew, it wouldn’t work in my favor. He wouldn’t see it the way I did. That he had an ally now. I was on his side. I wanted to help him work through his trauma and—

“I’m sick of waiting.” Lashing out, he grabbed my wrist with his good hand, twisting my skin nastily. “Speak.”

My hand automatically latched onto his, trying to pry him off. The contact between us heated and hissed, hot with chemistry, sparking with electricity that refused to make sense.

“You had dreams, okay? You were...you were in and out of consciousness.” I made eye contact with him before looking back at our linked hands. “Occasionally, you’d wake as someone else. No, not someone else. You were still yourself, just at different times in your life.”