Fable of Happiness (Fable #2) by Pepper Winters

One book said schizophrenia was an imbalance of brain chemistry that distorted real events, created fictitious happenings, and generally fucked up the person diagnosed. Without medical and long-term care, they were a danger and menace to society.

Could that be why I lived out here on my own? Perhaps Storymaker and the guests never actually existed? Could I have made all of that up?

Those questions scared me shitless because if that was true, it meant my Fable family wasn’t real. It erased the only happiness I’d ever gleaned thanks to short, stolen moments of togetherness. Nyx and Wes, Jareth and Elise were all just fragments of my fractured mind.

But then my gaze would land on my scars and trigger a flash of someone’s cock being thrust into me or some woman’s mouth trailing down my belly, and I’d stop breathing.

That sort of filth could only have come from experience.

My mind might be sick but not that sick.

I glanced at the woman walking by my side. Her feet encased in boots, her legs bare and flashing beneath her skirt, soaking up the heat from the bright sunshine. Her blond hair was threaded with precious golds and coppers, glinting as her head ducked, and her hazel eyes followed the hop of a lazy grasshopper.

The sensation of her every footstep resonated around my waist thanks to the shorter chain binding us. She walked beside me as if we were equals, yet the soft plink of metal was a constant reminder she wouldn’t willingly walk beside me if given a choice.

And fuck, if that didn’t hurt.

Can you blame her?

I swallowed a growl. I might not be able to blame her for not wanting anything to do with me, but I could blame her for every other problem she’d caused. Life would be so much simpler if she’d just stayed the hell away. If I’d never been forced into this painful soul search and unwanted evolution.

Tipping her head to the sun, she lengthened her neck with grace and power, making my already hard cock twitch. She had shadows under her eyes, revealing her exhaustion from the past seven days.

Good.

I was glad she was tired because I felt the same way. Even after everything I’d endured, I couldn’t remember a time I felt more exhausted, more drained. I couldn’t accept that some days I woke and for the full hours I was aware, I didn’t recognize a single piece of me. I didn’t want to accept that I suffered from a medical condition without a cure.

She sighed and scanned the valley, drinking in the river in front of us and the swaying grass that was past time for a harvest. She looked so grounded, so centered in who she was, what she believed in, and what morals to follow.

At that moment, I stupidly thought she could help. She could cure me of whatever illness I—

Fuck, no way.

If I showed her a shred of how truly messed up I was, she wouldn’t fix me like I needed her to but merely use it to her advantage. She’d already taken care of me, repairing my body after she’d pushed me off the cliff. She’d shown me kindness, and in return, I’d cursed her. I’d trapped her, making promises that ensured she’d die here with me as her only company.

Why the hell would she try to help fix any other part of me after that?

I strode faster, forcing my legs to stay stable and upright. At least the buzzing in my ears had faded, and my eyes were more reliable today, even in the bright sunshine. Tiny increments of progress, just not fast enough for my liking.

She had no choice but to speed up with me, her ankle tugging on the leather cuff as the distance grew too far between us. With a huff, she jogged toward me, then wrapped her arms around herself as she matched my pace.

My hands clutched around the two snares I’d brought with us. Traps I’d designed and crafted to catch smaller game. I should’ve started trapping a few weeks ago, using the sun to dry the strips of meat so it lasted the long winter. I no longer had salt to preserve with, and smoking took time and firewood. I’d freeze a lot of the meat, but if our electricity supply was intermittent, we could risk losing everything that way.

“Stop,” I muttered, ducking down to ram the stake into the summer-hardened ground and open the door on the small cage. Setting the mechanism, ready to snap closed when something entered, I withdrew a handful of lettuce leaves from my jeans pocket and scattered them in the back. They were wilted and damaged but would still entice a range of wildlife.

Standing, I sucked in a breath and fought the urge to reach for her for balance. The valley swayed, and the roar of the river turned excruciatingly loud for a second before I swallowed down my nausea and locked my knees for stability.

Her gaze danced with questions. I would happily answer whatever she wanted to know—after all, she needed to learn this stuff. And really, I needed her to talk to me—about anything at this point. I needed to know I was still me even if she’d systemically destroyed me every hour she was in my godforsaken life.

However, she bit her cheek, shook her head once, and stepped away, waiting with her back to me until I joined her, and we fell into a silent walk again.

As we drew closer to the river, I set the second trap, placing it along the natural tracks of prey. Once again, she watched my every move but didn’t give me a single word. If she knew how hard her stare made me, she probably wouldn’t even do that. Could she guess that her eyes felt like a physical touch? That my blood grew hot, and my heart pounded quick, and my cock...well, that’d been fucking aching for days.