Not even you can alter destiny.I dart my gaze from her eyes to her hair as her words tumble around themselves. Finally, they settle, and… The world crumbles to dust around us. I scrub a hand over my face, still trying to make sense of it.
“The magic is like an hourglass, Wren. When the sand is gone…”
She doesn’t need to finish because I understand. Fuck, I understand.
Rapunzel loses another piece of her life whenever she cuts her hair. That’s why it turns brown. It’s her natural color. The magic…dies…and with it, so does she.
Suddenly, the only thing I see are those shorter locks of brown among the blonde. Each strand represents a lost…day, month, year…of her life. Then I blink and clear my vision, seeing the long, golden waves as a treasure. Not because of the magic they hold but because of the life they support.
I finger a section of cut hair. “Sybil took this time from you.”
If I possessed Quinn’s power to rip the life from someone, I would tear Sybil’s soul to shreds for stealing this from Rapunzel.
“You misunderstand.” She’s shaking her head, a tender smile lifting her lips. “The magic keeps her healthy and alive so she can protect me.”
“Does she have a care that she’s fucking killing you?” Not to mention hurting Rapunzel each time she cuts a piece to benefit herself?
“Wren, stop.” Rapunzel places her hands on my shoulders. “Sybil did what she must to keep me safe. She didn’t want to, but it was our only option.”
Jaw clenched, I grind my teeth until my molars damn near crack. “Except one of you wasn’t slowly killing the other.”
Rapunzel traces her fingers along my brow to smooth away my scowl. “As I said, it was a necessary evil. If she had died, I would have beentrulyalone in that tower.”
“You should have come away with me.”
Rapunzel surprises the hell out of me with her swift agreement. “You’re right. But I didn’t. Now we need to focus on getting her away from that madman. You know the depravity he’s capable of, just as I know the extent of Sybil’s power. She’s strong, Wren. Stubborn as well. She can hold John off for a time, but eventually, she’ll break—if she hasn’t already—and when she does, there’s a chance he won’t need me anymore.”
What goes unspoken is that if Sybil granted Rapunzel the ability to heal…what other power can she give him?
I kiss her again. A peck—because I can. Because she’s in my arms, and she’s mine. I spent twelve years imagining the day when I could touch my lips to hers whenever I fucking pleased. “We won’t give him the chance. I swear it to you. I once promised you that nothing would come close to the adventures you and I would have once you were free. Do you remember?” At her nod, I smile, this time a genuine grin. “You were adamant you would never leave that tower, yet here you are. Why is that, do you think?”
“Because John is destroying Rygard.”
“No, Rapunzel.” Itsk. “Because I’m a determined man whose word is his bond. I vowed to free you from the tower. Now I swear on my life that I’ll free you from John.”
And when I claim her mouth, I do it with a secret sitting on my tongue—one that will shatter Rapunzel.
But Dax, Quinn, and I will be here to put her back together.
24
RAPUNZEL
There’s something desperate—even feral—in Wren’s kiss. It sends me spiraling. I part my lips when he licks his way inside my mouth. It’s nothing like Dax, whose kiss was an easy, playful seduction full of teasing and mischief. Or Quinn’s rough and primal command of my body. With Wren, the world drops away. The lost years fade. His resentment, a barrier more formidable than the highest, thickest of walls, crumbles to dust. The room becomes a blur, leaving Wren the only tangible thing in my world.
On Wren’s lap and cradled in his arms, I don’t care that we’re still soiled with Quinn’s blood. What matters is that today ends a bleak chapter in our story. Every stroke of Wren’s tongue across mine writes a new word. Each whisper of his lips over my flesh is a new sentence. Every breath we take is the promise of a new adventure.
My Wren will always be the grubby boy who traveled through rain, sleet, and snow to my tower. He will always be the boy who kept a peony in his pocket for eight years, waiting for the day when our fingers touched in the exchange. He will always be my first love. But now, we’re part of something larger than ourselves. Something…more. Together with Dax and Quinn, we are complete.
Without breaking our kiss, Wren brings us to our feet. There’s laughter when we get tangled in my skirts as he walks us backward toward the four-poster bed. His hands stay busy, roaming down my sides. They scrape over the outer curve of my breasts. Skid over to my ass, where he squeezes and kneads. And when we reach our destination, he gathers the linen skirts of my tunic and chemise to draw the material up my legs…
…then drops them to lean away. Wren tucks an errant tuft of hair behind my ear. “I waited a lifetime for this.” He runs a fingertip reverently over the bridge of my nose, then to my lips. “To kiss you.”
“Why stop?” God, I hope the answer won’t bring this moment to a tragic end.
“I wanted to be your first kiss.” A flash of regret dances across his chiseled face. “If I wasn’t such a stubborn fucking—”
“Wren.” I cover his mouth with my hand, the press of his soft lips a tickle against my palm. “You may not have been my first kiss, but you will be my first inanotherway.”
