Goddamn her.
“I see Felkirk village,” Quinn announces from his vantage point a few yards ahead of us.
Although I wish my friend hadn’t surrendered his soul, Quinn’s decision has certain advantages. He sees farther and sharper than the average mortal. Hears a whisper like a roar. He’s also stronger. Faster. His body withstands fatal injuries with unnatural ease.
But the demon left something else behind as well. Something dark. Sinister. Something Quinn has called upon only once, and when he did, it required all of his strength and left him weakened for days afterward. A malevolent force with the power to rip the life clean out of a person’s body.
Frowning, I crane my neck and squint against the sun’s glare. In the distance, barely a smudge on the horizon, is Felkirk’s distinct palisade. “You’d think, by now, they’d have replaced their primitive defensive wall with one of stone.” I remember coming here as a boy. They’re notoriously cautious of strangers, as they should be in these chaotic times. But my father supplied the village with meat for years, so I’m familiar with this place well enough. “For the right price, they’ll welcome us.”
Ancient and small, Felkirk was always forgettable in John’s mind. That makes it the ideal haven for us to enjoy a hot meal and sleep in a soft bed for the night.
Quinn shoots Rapunzel a glare before jerking his head to a dense, distant forest south of Felkirk. “It would be better to make camp in those woods.”
“I volunteer to share my pallet with Rapunzel,” Dax offers. “Seeing as we’re riding companions, it seems only right.” He rubs his cheek on her hair, eyes closed, as if in a state of ecstasy. When he reopens them, he hunches over her so she can get a good look at his devious grin. “What say you, Little Captive, you want to spend the night in my arms?”
Although I can’t see Rapunzel’s face, I notice how she stiffens at the idea. Dax’s bemused expression is comical. He’s unaccustomed to women finding his advances unwelcome. I don’t blame them for their enthusiasm after sharing close quarters with the man. We’ve fucked different women in the same room together.
Women appreciate Dax’s playfulness.
Some women enjoy Quinn’s penchant for pain.
I get the job done well enough, with each female face a blur and every body the wrong one—because it wasn’thers.
I should have fucked Rapunzel right there, against the tower. Tossed up her skirts and had done with it to finally rid myself of this hunger for her. I intended to turn her body into an instrument of torture against itself. Push her to the threshold of ecstasy, then leave her empty and wanting. Same as she left me all those times I begged her to run away with me. But once I started touching her, I couldn’t stop—and in the process, I tortured myself.
“I’m fine with whatever you decide.” Rapunzel’s voice is a husky whisper. But then she adds louder, “Although anonymity would be a wiser choice.”
Rapunzel’s green eyes are locked on me, and although her tone may be docile, her gaze is challenging.
“We bed down in Felkirk,” I grit out between clenched teeth, if for no other reason than to be contrary. Because sometimes sound judgment is blind when pride is involved.
“Wren—”
“Was I unclear?” I snap at Quinn.
Quinn flares his nostrils, and his mouth compresses to an angry line. He kicks his black steed into a gallop and rides ahead, his way of letting me know I’ll have to deal with his temper later. As for Dax…
“Objections?” I demand.
Dax shrugs and shakes his head. “None I’m willing to voice.”
“Smart man.” I whip my gaze at Rapunzel. She shakes her head in silent rebuff. “You have something to say?”
She drags the tip of her tongue across her lips. “No, Wren, I don’t. You seem to have it all worked out in your mind.”
She settles against Dax’s chest, and he bends to whisper in her ear. Something I can’t hear. Something intimate that curls her pink lips in a ghost of a grin. Their private exchange shouldn’t irritate me. I shouldn’t be jealous.
And I’m not.
Dax and Quinn are part of the plan to break Rapunzel.
Being soulless, Quinn was easier to convince. Dax took a little longer to persuade, but not by much because he does like shiny new toys. I may hate her, but there’s no denying Rapunzel is exquisite. Tiny. Delicate. Emotionally starved after a lifetime of captivity.
She’ll break easily beneath our hands.
Then I’ll dump her used body like trash at the feet of our almighty king—right before I murder that motherfucker for ordering my parents’ death.
Because fuck her. She means nothing to me.
