RAPUNZEL
Everything hurts.
Muscles I never knew I had ache from hours spent in the saddle. Not to mention my…lady parts…feel wholly abused. Also, my bladder is ready to burst. However, I would rather rip out my tongue than voice a single complaint. Not even to Dax, who proved he’s the kinder of my three companions after this morning.
‘Captors’ is a more fitting term.
Companions. Captors. No matter.
I’m free from the oppressive walls. No cumbersome chain to tether me to my prison during Sybil’s long absences. Surrounded by open space and fresh air, I’m afraid this is a wondrous dream. One I’ll wake from to find Sybil standing over my bed and the musty tower air choking the life from me one breath at a time.
Wren claims he’s taking me to hell. I’ll suffer the consequences of whatever future awaits me rather than a lifetime spent in a stone cage now that I’ve sampled freedom.
Now that I’ve felt pleasure from someone else’s touch.
I never realized how much I yearned for human contact until I woke this morning in a new bed, wrapped in a man’s arms.
It was a promising start to this day.
Self-preservation and propriety dictate I should have put up a fight. That I shouldn’t have allowed Dax and Quinn to take such liberties with my body. But it felt too good to be adored—if only for those precious moments. All my inhibitions melted away under Dax’s hands and mouth. My God, the wonderful and wicked things that man did to me. He put his lips, tongue, and fingers in places I never dared imagine another would touch me. I fell to pieces and was put back together.
Not even Wren’s hostility, which radiated from across the room, hindered what had happened. I simply pretended he wasn’t there—until it was over and his hatred brought me back to reality.
Dax warned me the ride to Dyhurst—an ancient castle perched on the southern edge of Rygard—would be arduous. He hadn’t exaggerated. We remain off the main road, traveling a barely trodden path through a forest that is nothing like Blithe. Here, it is lush and lovely. So very much alive. I do my best to miss nothing. Commit every nuance of Rygard to memory. Fill my mind with as many sights as possible to compensate for my lost years.
Dax maintains a steady conversation, speaking to me in hushed tones throughout the grueling morning. Quinn had ridden ahead of us for much of the time. The reason, Dax explained, is his sharper senses ensure we’re traveling a safe path. And Wren, blessedly, hasn’t spoken more than a handful of words to me, if even that much. Good. I have enough to worry about to make it through the arduous hours without the burden of his foul temper.
I shift and press my back against Dax’s chest. “Dax?” Foolish me to think riding a horse would be simple. How difficult could it be? You just…sit. Wrong. The saddle is grueling, and I’m inching closer to tears with each step the horse takes.
“Aye, Little Captive?”
My cheeks flame at what I’m about to demand. “We need to stop for a moment.”
“Wren won’t like it.”
“If we don’t stop, we’ll have to finish the journey sitting in a puddle. I’m sure that will make for a soggy situation.”
That puts an abrupt end to any argument he might have voiced. “Wren, Quinn,” Dax shouts. “Rapunzel needs a rest.”
“No,” Wren snaps.
I glance at Dax over my shoulder, imploring him with my eyes. “This is not a request.”
Shrugging, he slows his steed to a stop.
I sag with relief. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet. You’re the one who has to suffer Wren’s temper.”
I’d rather endure Wren’s wrath than ride in piss-soaked clothing. I irritate the animal with my clumsy dismount. My muscles are stiff, and the moment my feet connect with the ground, needles shoot up my legs. Somehow, though, I sprint toward the thicket and add proper horsemanship to the growing list of things I must learn if I live long enough to see my way out of the mess the king has made of Rygard.
“Dax,” Wren thunders. “Did I not say she’s to go nowhere alone?”
Boots hit the ground. Heavy footsteps follow me. Desperation overrides mortification as I duck behind a wide tree, grab a handful of leaves, and hitch up my skirts. I let out an audible sigh as I empty my bladder, not even caring if Wren unleashes his fury on me right here and now.
“For fuck’s sake, Wren, leave her alone,” Dax shouts.
The footsteps stop. “You and your kind fucking heart.”
