Fable of Happiness (Fable 1)

I paced, looking down at the unconscious stranger. A girl who’d appeared out of nowhere and somehow entered my house.

Where the fuck did she come from?

Unable to remove the burn in my fingers, I ducked and checked her condition.

If she was dead, then good riddance.

If she wasn’t, then I had a choice to make.

Slowing my breathing, I waited for a quick kick of her heart.

There.

Faint but steady.

Fuck.

I had a choice then.

But how was I supposed to decide when she wasn’t welcome here? When her very existence threatened mine?

I returned to pacing, dragging my hands through my hair and shoving aside dampness from the river. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. It’d been so long since I’d seen anyone other than my own river reflection that she looked foreign. Wrong. A combined creation of everyone and everything evil that had been done to me.

I stopped and stood over her.

With blond hair spread and tangled on the carpet, arms bent at her sides, and legs wide from kicking, she looked vulnerable and nonthreatening. She was a girl. She couldn’t hurt me.

Then again, my life experience said she could. All it would take was a moment of distraction on my part, a slight give in my wariness, and she could kill me as surely as I could kill her.

I nudged her cheek with my foot.

Her head lolled to the side, but her eyes didn’t open. She didn’t come back to life. She remained utterly at my mercy to either finish the job or devise another plan that didn’t involve more blood on my hands.

Think.

I grabbed my hair again, tugging it, forcing my brain to unriddle this problem.

First, I needed to make sure she was alone. Where one human was, more were sure to follow. Until I knew why she’d come after me and who would come after her, she was worth more to me alive than dead.

I sighed, dropping my arms with a scowl.

The sun had decided to hide above the branches cocooning my valley, and shadows crossed over her face. Her nose was small. Her cheeks round. Her eyebrows the same color as her hair.

She kind of looks like—

Don’t.

I gritted my teeth, shoving the memories away. They weren’t welcome while daylight still existed. Besides, I had work to do. It no longer involved the chores I’d set for myself but ensuring this girl remained shackled and unable to run.

For the first time, I let myself study the room where she’d sought solace. A gold and teal monstrosity with lace on the coverlets and a wardrobe full of expensive gowns. I’d braved each of these rooms to ensure they remained clean, but at no point would I ever sleep in them.

No fucking way.

Chills darted down my back.

I’d been in here too long.

So you’ll leave her on the carpet then?

I sniffed, glaring at her again.

Why the hell did she have to find me? Why did she have to interrupt my life after I’d worked so hard to make it mine?

I couldn’t leave her here. The windows didn’t lock, and the ivy outside meant it would be a simple task for her to shimmy down and vanish into the valley.

Had she come through the cave? That was the only entrance I knew of. Were others waiting for her to return?

My mind raced with questions. Sweat broke out over my skin as fresh anger coursed through my body.

Bending over her, I danced on the edge of just killing her. Of getting it over with so I could pretend this never happened. But as I stared at her blank face, I grew traitorously hard.

For the first time in eleven years, there was a female in this house.

A female who was at my command. A woman I could do anything I liked to.

I could use her.

Hadn’t my needs demanded this very thing? I refused to touch myself, and the desire in my blood had become excruciating. Nature always provided an outlet. Male birds found female birds. Horny coyotes howled until they found a mate to bite and mount.

Maybe that was all this was. Nature giving me what I needed because I wouldn’t take it for myself.

Or maybe she’s a spy. She’s one of them. She’s been sent to destroy you.

My hands balled.

No way.

No way would I let her take from me again. Not now. Not after every-fucking-thing I’d done.

I wouldn’t kill her. Not yet. Not until I had answers on why and how she’d found me. But if I ended up keeping her, she’d almost certainly beg for death. Even now, my belly clenched for something I hadn’t had access to in a very long time. If I kept her, I wouldn’t have the self-control not to take everything I could from her body.

And that knowledge made me rage. Made me hard. Made me hate.

With a growl of scorching loathing, I ducked and slid my arms under her shoulders and knees. Hoisting her from the floor, she didn’t make a sound. Didn’t wake up. Didn’t acknowledge me in any way.