“Adele will love you because her son loves you,” Wren drawls, and I nearly choke on my spit.
Love.
Now that’s a drastic fucking word. One I spoke only to my family, and even then, I said it occasionally at most. It’s a word that, if I’m being honest, has been a needle in the back of my mind these last few weeks whenever I think about Rapunzel. I’ve even had to swallow it down a time or two, lest it foolishly tumbles from lips in sudden moments of weakness.
The tension emanating from Rapunzel hits my back like an icy wave. Her words are a cautious whisper. So low even I can barely hear them. “Our…arrangement… Emma warned me others might find it…unseemly. I’m afraid your mother will think me wanton. Perhaps even a disgrace.”
That last word damn near splits my miserable heart in two.
Of course, we’ll need to keep our relationship private for Rapunzel’s reputation. I never considered how this might affect her. The stress of it now that she’s away from Dyhurst.
“Never,” Dax promises her. “My mother thumbs her nose at societal rules. Trust me, Rapunzel, she will not give one fuck about what we do behind closed doors. She will love you.”
What Dax doesn’t do is counter Wren’s claim that he is in love with Rapunzel. The tender accusation hangs over us when I slow my mount to fall in step with them. Only Rapunzel’s windburned face is visible from beneath her bundle of clothing. The sparkle in her eyes when she looks at me punches me right in the goddamn gut.
“Adele knows a good person when she meets one,” I assure Rapunzel.
Her little shrug is barely perceptible from beneath all those layers. “She might feel compelled to like me because—”
“The devil himself cannot force my mother to do a damn thing against her will.” Dax says, cutting off Rapunzel. “Now, cease working yourself up into a worry.”
Rapunzel chews her inner cheek a moment before lifting her chin in a charming display of courage. In this moment, even with her cheeks ruddy and her body hidden beneath a merchant shop’s worth of fabric, it’s easy to imagine Rygard’s crown sitting atop her lovely head. She is regal. There’s a gentle majesty in the way she holds herself. No amount of years in the tower could temper the nobility out of her.
“And I shall adore her.” A hint of a smile curls her lips, and her heartbeat races a moment before she sighs out the confession, “With the same love and loyalty I have for her son.”
Dax’s rush of joy flows around us like a ribbon, and for one jealous moment, I wish it were me she professed that love for.
And as quickly as that ridiculous desire was born, it dies a terrible death. My life never allowed for affairs of the heart, and while I enjoy what I have with Rapunzel, I don’t pretend it’s on par with what she shares with Wren or Dax.
They aren’t…broken.
Soulless.
Damned.
They can give her something I never can.
A future.
ChapterTen
“Quinn?”
My spine stiffens at Rapunzel whispering my name like it’s the sweetest song. I slide my eyes closed, the cold water lapping at my stomach. The vine-like tattoos on my torso, arms, and hands—visual reminders of my deal with the demon—tighten across my flesh. As if they’re reacting for her, desperate for a taste of her.
Rapunzel should be asleep. Tucked away safely in her bedroll by the fire. Instead, she’s here, standing behind me on the bank of the river. I can smell her all around me.
I reopen my eyes and turn to look at her…
…the woman is a vision in the moonlight. A goddess among mortals, with her golden hair hanging free around her tiny body. The long, thick mass appears almost silvery under the pale glow. Watching me, she looks too serious by half. And her eyes… Fuck. Those luminous gems. Her gaze is a more tangible touch against my naked flesh than the water lapping at my waist.
“Why aren’t you sleeping, Princess?”
She gathers the brown cloak tighter around herself and steps closer to where the river rolls up the bank. Her bare feet leave tiny imprints in the mud, and I’m about to scold her for not wearing shoes because her toes must be damn near frozen. “My mind won’t allow it.”
Her hushed confession kills my castigation as I listen to Wren returning to our camp. “You’re here alone. Why?”
When she licks her lips, it’s a phantom touch that sears me. “There are things that need to be said.” She takes another step, her toes now in the water. One hand pokes out from the seam where the folds of her cloak meet when she gestures to me and then to herself. “Between us.”
