Fable of Happiness (Fable #2) by Pepper Winters

“Hospital?” I reared back, bashing into the wall behind me. “Why the hell would I go to a hospital?”

Her forehead furrowed. “Because you’re hurt. You...” She coughed delicately. “There’s no easy way to say this, Ka—” She pursed her lips, cutting off my name before she could finish.

Wise girl.

How did she get that out of me, anyhow?

What sort of delusion was I in when she’d pulled a fundamental piece out of my control?

At least, she’d learned quickly that she hadn’t earned the right to use it. Until she did, that name was off-limits to her. Perhaps my previous outburst had scared her, or she’d learned other things about me from my nightmares. Either way, she didn’t need to know I didn’t actually care about that name at all.

Yes, it came with suitcases of fucking baggage, and yes, it’d been screamed at me, yelled at me, whispered and moaned at me. It’d been murmured with tears and groaned with grotesque pleasure.

But in the end, it was just a name.

It didn’t define me because, after eleven years of solitude, I’d evolved past three little letters that’d done their best to label me as a Fable slave.

Kas was dead.

He’d died on the floor of the pantry after the asshole with the white beard kicked me in the skull so many times, he’d erased my memory for five eternal years—or at least, I thought it was five years. The calendars had run out by the time I did the math.

Regardless, for five fucking years, I was a nameless amnesiac man living off rapidly dwindling rations, facing starvation if he didn’t learn how to survive, and then drowning himself in the bottom of a bourbon bottle for a year straight because he couldn’t goddamn cope.

That was Kas.

Kas was a sex slave who’d died a hundred deaths.

I was above a name now. But...if she needed something to call me by, then fine. She’d have to earn the right to use anything. Even if she chose to call me after a damn broccoli, she would pay for that privilege.

Slouching over her knees, she sucked in a breath and said quietly, “You need a hospital because I’m not a doctor. You suffered a significant head injury. I’m worried about long-term damage. The fact that you were in and out of consciousness for days hints something serious is going on. I’m relieved you’re awake, I truly am. I even understand why you leashed me again. But...you have to let me go. Not for my sake, but for yours.”

“Right.” I braced against the wall, still waiting for the world to stop swirling. “Pity you won’t be going anywhere.”

“Why? Haven’t I proven to you that I’m willing to be your friend? That I’ve put up with shit no one else would—”

“And I haven’t?”

“Fine.” Temper flared, sparking gold in her stare. “You want me to repeat myself? No problem. I shouldn’t have tried to ambush you at the top of the cliff. I didn’t take in the risk of you falling into account, and whether you believe me or not, I’ll never forgive myself for that. I’m not going to point out that I was fully within my right to try to escape you. You took my freedom. You’ve done it again—”

“You’re getting off track,” I murmured warningly.

She inhaled and exhaled deliberately. Nodding once, she sniffed and said simply, “I’m sorry.”

“Go on.” I crossed my arms awkwardly, avoiding the splint on my broken one and doing my best to seem like I was fine and not seconds away from vomiting over the cucumbers.

“I think, if we stand any chance of moving on, you need to accept my apology.”

“And what exactly are you apologizing for?”

She rolled her eyes.

I cocked my head, waiting to see if she was smart enough to know just how much her initial trespass pissed me off. No, not just pissed me off. Hurt me. Her very first step into my sanctum had been the first of many hurts she’d delivered. Her very presence was more pain than I could endure. Every stare, every smile, every attempt at being nice clawed over my skin and left me bleeding.

Everything I’d survived in my past was nothing, fucking nothing, to what I’d have to survive with her. Which meant my only weapon was brutality.

And I will wield it with as much precision as I can.

Her eyes glossed with something I dare not analyze. Pity definitely, but also those damn feelings she’d mentioned. Feelings that were like an infection, making me feverish and sick, a wound that needed to be cauterized or cut out if I had any chance at reversing the damage she’d already caused my heart.

“I’m sorry for entering your valley and your home.” She blinked, delivering a single sentence that threatened to soften me. “Truly.”

The world lurched.

My head pounded.

But I nodded in her direction with all the respect she’d just given me. “Thank you.”

Our eyes locked, caught, once again knotted and tangled, ensuring we weren’t two people but one. My back pricked. My pulse skipped. I grew wobbly for other reasons.

She was the one who looked away first, gasping as if she’d drowned in my stare. Dropping her gaze to the dirt, she murmured, “You have to let me go.”

I gripped the stem-and-leaf-covered wall behind me, keeping upright even as my bruised brain tried to make me fall. “That’s an impossibility.”