Fable of Happiness (Fable #2) by Pepper Winters

It’s that unpredictability that makes him the most dangerous man you’ve ever met.

My fury threatened to overflow, threaded with pain I would not, could not show. “If you won’t leave. I will.” Standing, I charged forward, my only intention to get the hell out of the games room and somewhere that had untainted oxygen.

“Not so fast.” He grabbed the quickly unraveling chain between us and jerked me to a stop.

I almost tripped. It made my anger evolve into merciless flames. “What?” I spun around. “What do you want?”

He scanned me from head to toe. His eyes lazy, his insolent desire pricking my soul. “It’s been a week.”

I crossed my arms. “So?”

“So...” He gave me a look. A look that rolled its eyes and basically spelled out his intentions without needing anything else from him.

I said I’d take you in a week.

I congratulated myself that I didn’t back away, but I couldn’t fight the furious blush creeping over my cheeks. “I don’t care if it’s been a century; my threat still stands.” Reaching into my stretchy skirt’s waistband, I pulled out my stolen kitchen knife. I didn’t go anywhere without it now. It was permanently attached to me. “Come near me, and you’ll regret it.”

He stood. His balance faltered a little, hinting he wasn’t fully mended. He never took his eyes off me, branding me as his intensity changed from stern to...sexy. A sexy, soft look that switched his entire face from savage to wanting.

My breath hitched as his focus dropped to my mouth.

Things inside me that had no logical reason for existing sparked awake. They sparked, and I didn’t know how to deal with that.

Closing his eyes with a pained expression, he cleared his throat, and the moment was gone. When he opened his eyes again, they were cold and hard. “As flattering as that offer is, I have other things in mind than fucking you. More important things.”

I ignored my flinch as I replayed the way he’d just looked at me and the way I’d reacted.

Liar.

He’d come for sex. His gaze had said as much. So, now what is he up to?

Suspicion layered my tone. “What things?”

His face darkened, even as lust continued to bracket his mouth. “Unlike you, I haven’t wasted time writing nonsense in a notebook or reading ridiculous magazines.”

“Good for you.”

His jaw worked with impatience. “I’ve taken the past week to fully assess the likelihood of us surviving winter with our current supplies.”

“Clever. Do you want an award?”

“What I want,” he snapped, “is what you owe me.”

“I don’t owe you—”

“The food I’d grown was enough for one. I’d already used more than I should keeping you fed, then you went and used at least a month of rations that ought to have been stored. Which means we now have a serious fucking problem.”

I ignored the urge to say something argumentative. Instead, I pointed out the obvious. “If you let me go, you’d only have one mouth to feed.”

“If I let you go, I won’t have the manpower to prepare everything I need. Not with how I’m feeling—” He cut himself off with a scowl.

I shouldn’t... it made me a bad person, but I relished in his misfortune, even if it was at my detriment. “Not as strong as you once were, Kas?”

“Careful.” His temper flared, dark eyes narrowing with ire. “Actually, you know what, fuck it. I’m done with this.”

I stiffened. “Done with what?”

“Playing games with you.” Marching toward me, he shook away the cotton in his head and grabbed my wrist with his good hand. “I’m not feeling well. There, I admit it. I’d hoped I’d be back to normal by now, but the truth is, I’m not.” Yanking me to him, he hissed, “The truth is, Gemma, I need you and not in the way you keep threatening will end with my cock sliced off with a knife. I need you to put aside your high-handed outrage and—”

“High-handed?” I snorted. “I think you’re getting confused. You’re the high-handed one. You tyrannical, overbearing bastard.”

“Enough!” he roared, pushing me away and raking a hand through his hair. His face lost a little color, his eyes etched with pain. He wasn’t lying about his current health. I could strike and kill him easily if I was cold-hearted enough to take his life.

Do it!

Run!

I shifted on the spot, highly aware of the weight of the blade and the queasiness in my stomach.

“Finally decided to do it, huh?” He chuckled blackly. “I admit my weakness, and you light up as if I’ve just given you the key.”

My eyes locked with his. “Do you blame me?”

For a second, he didn’t move, then he shocked me with a half-smile, weary and not at all what I expected. “No, I don’t blame you.” He swallowed and fiddled with his homemade cast. “It’s what I would do.”

Funny how quickly things could change. Incredible how a single look, a simple word, could undermine seven days of vows, violence, and vengeance.

I’d envisioned another fight. I’d barely slept and hidden out as if we were enemies on different sides of a war. I’d prepared to be cruel. To match his nastiness if I stood any chance at being strong enough to get home.