Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25724 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25724 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
I stare into the fire, afraid of what I’ll do if I keep looking at her.
Afraid of what I’ll do if I don’t.
Because I want to consume her. To be consumed. To lose myself in this strange, impossible girl who doesn’t flinch from monsters.
“I think the tower brought me here,” I say quietly. “Not to trap me. But to show me something worth fighting for.”
Her eyes meet mine, and the room grows quiet. The roots stop creaking. The tower seems to hold its breath.
My gut tells me I’m on the brink of something new. That I’m not only here to help her escape, but also to find a way out, a way forward, for both of us.
“I don’t know why your hair picked me,” I finally say. “But I’m not leaving you here.”
She sighs. “You may not have a choice.”
“Then I guess we’ll have to work on our escape plan. Together.”
She smiles at me—soft, uncertain, hopeful.
Her nightgown has slipped off one pale shoulder, begging for my touch. I don’t move. I barely breathe. But something in the air between us shifts again, pulling tight, drawing me closer.
Her fingers graze mine, and she traces the scars on my knuckles. “These hands have seen so much.”
My heart kicks hard in my chest. Her touch is soft and tentative, but it hits me like a warhammer to the sternum.
“Too much,” I murmur.
My throat aches as she lifts her gaze to mine, her eyes full of stars and hope that makes my throat ache. She’s close enough that I can see her lashes tremble, the way her lips part on a breathless question she doesn’t ask.
“I shouldn’t want this,” I rasp.
“I know,” she whispers. “But you do.”
Gods help me, I do.
Her face tilts up. She’s not innocent at this moment. She’s a woman reaching for something she’s never had and offering something I’m not sure I deserve.
Her breath hitches as I lean in slowly.
And then I kiss her.
Her lips are soft and warm and sweeter than anything I’ve ever tasted, like sugar and sunlight. I keep it gentle at first. She deserves that. But when she makes a tiny, helpless sound in the back of her throat, something primal in me breaks. I cup the back of her head, pulling her closer, kissing her like I’ve earned it. Like I’ll never get another chance.
Her fingers clutch my shoulders, and she presses closer, her mouth parting for me, welcoming the thrust of my tongue. I drink her down like a man dying of thirst. And gods, it’s not enough.
Her tongue meets mine—tentative and soft—and I groan into her mouth like a man starved. She’s learning me with every stroke, every shy flick, and it drives me wild.
Gods, I want to bury myself in her. In her scent, her mouth, her skin. A woman I’ve known for a matter of hours.
Rapunzel trembles but doesn’t pull away. If anything, she leans in, deepening the kiss as if finally admitting she’s as ruined for me as I am for her.
My hand finds her waist, the heat of her skin searing my palm through the thin cotton of her nightgown. I want to rip it off, feast on her soft valleys and curves.
But not like this. Not yet.
I slow the kiss, gentling it even as my blood thrums with need. My palm cradles her jaw, thumb brushing the rise of her cheekbone.
When we finally break apart, she doesn’t move far, resting her forehead against mine, her breath shallow and uneven.
“Brannock,” she whispers, voice barely audible. “What are we doing?”
“Breaking every rule I’ve ever had,” I murmur.
She lets out a shaky laugh that sounds like it might fall apart into tears. “This is too fast. Isn’t it?”
“Maybe.” I brush a strand of hair from her face, trying to make sense of this. Of this place and this woman who’s unraveled me in the space of a few hours.
The kiss lingers like a brand between us as we sit in the flicker of firelight from the stove, wrapped in something fragile and new and impossible.
And when she eventually leans her head against my shoulder, curling into my side with a sigh that sounds like surrender, I feel peaceful in a way I never have.
Maybe it’s the fire settling, or the way her breathing tugs mine into the same slow rhythm, but the whole tower seems to unclench. The roots stop their restless twitching. I press my palm flat over her hip and make a quiet vow to keep this small, impossible peace intact for as long as I can.
Because I’ve finally found something worth staying for.
Chapter 7
Rapunzel
Brannock has been with me for three days now. That’s seventy-two hours of awkward glances, almost-touches, polite distance, and the shared agony of dwindling food supplies. I’m not sure what’s more painful: the gnawing in my stomach or the ache that blooms every time I catch him watching me like he’s memorizing my face. Because I may be innocent in body, but I’m not oblivious to sexual tension. And there’s enough in my little tower to power Fable Forest.