“As of late, though, evidence is pointing toward us living out a romance—a somewhat unorthodox romance, but still, an experience like this week would not fit that type of story.”
He wrapped vines of ivy around my wrists.…
“However, those kinds of authors can be kind when it comes to endings.”
He then secured my ankles to keep me there upon his altar, spread out to him like an offering.
“Perhaps our godsnake will let you remember this conversation. In flashback, maybe. When you most need it, you’ll be reminded that we’re on a journey toward a happy ending.”
Then the time of words was over.
The magic cross scraped over my heated skin as the Shadow King began kissing his way down my body for paragraphs upon paragraphs of worship.
When
I
most
need
it….
I awoke with a soft gasp, bound yet again.
Not on the Shadow King’s altar this time but in a bright and sunny bedroom with bookshelves, pencil drawings taped to the wall, and a computer desk covered in stuffed animals that probably used to be on the bed.
The bed I was now chained to with shackles instead of ivy.
“Magnus is asking that you try with her again, Deenie.”
A muffled voice floated up to me through the floorboards, older and a little reedy.
“He’s getting nowhere with her mate in the castle dungeon. He’s still in bear form and refusing to switch back.…”
“Did you not see me try to talk some sense into her, after they brought her in, smelling like an entire strawberry-rhubarb pie?” My mother’s voice shot back. “It’s been two days of her just looking right through me whenever I try to talk with her about what happened to the other brides. Feels like she’s giving me the bad eye. I’m telling you, it’s hard to even be in the room with her.”
“Can I try?” a much younger voice asked.
“Nae, Lil’ Dorie!” the older male answered.
At the same time, my mother answered. “Absolutely not, child. Go on outside now and leave the grown folk to their talk until I’m done making this breakfast.”
Footsteps pattered, then my mother’s voice came again. “I don’t know how to get through to her. I’ve never seen her this bad.”
“Have you considered opening with an apology?” another feminine voice asked, soft-spoken and sweet.
“Or maybe some food,” the older male suggested. “You could’ve asked me for anything, including the moon, after those apple doodles you made last week. Best cookies I ever had. No offense, Leora.”
“None taken, Hamish,” the younger feminine voice answered with a soft chuckle. “He might have a point, Claudine.”
“Are the two of you right in the head?” my mother answered. “I’d be afraid she’d try to bite me on top of the bad eye!”
My nose suddenly filled with the smell of apples, and I lifted my eyes from the floorboards to find a little girl creeping into the room with her finger raised to her lips.
“Don’t tell them I came in here, okay?” she whispered.
The girl was maybe eleven or twelve, with curly brown hair and light-beige skin. She was dressed in jeans and a sweater, but her freckled face and sharp brown eyes reminded me of a woman I knew well.
