A Ruin of Roses (Deliciously Dark Fairytales 1)

He took a deep breath before coming over. “Turn around.”

I showed him my back. He kept talking as he worked the clasps. His fingers brushed my skin lightly, gently, as though he were working with the everlass. Goosebumps spread across my flesh.

“He desires to claim you.”

I shivered again, damn it, remembering my dream this time. Remembering him moving within me.

“That’s a nope,” I said quickly, pushing the memories away. The sudden wetness between my thighs couldn’t be helped. “You’ve already abducted me without proper explanation, pushed me around, talked a bunch of shit—I’d rather not wear an alpha’s shackles on top of it.”

“I know that. Believe me. While he has access to logic, in this case he clearly isn’t using it. He doesn’t care that you’re lowborn, for example. That your family doesn’t have a pot to piss in and your village is poor and mostly useless. He doesn’t care that a noble of my standing would never lower himself with a woman like you. He just wants me to fuck you good and proper so that you’ll never, ever be used by another man. He wants our claim on you. He hates that you’re resisting it. That I am. He feels your animal trying to get to him, so he’s been taking matters into his own hands. It’s a battle every time, and when your beast wins, he wins. Our animals are feeding off each other, and it is too powerful for me to stop unless you work with me on it. Which you aren’t doing. It’s throwing everything off.”

Broody McFucker was back. A growl laced every word. He clearly blamed me for his lack of control. Wasn’t that how it always went for a woman?

He jerked my binding, roughly, before pushing me away. He went back to looking out the window, his good humor dried up.

I put up a finger and then laughed. His return to being a cuntcicle was honestly a little relieving. I knew this guy. That other guy, with the playful words, light humor, gentle fingers… That guy was intriguing and, because of that, dangerous. That guy had the potential to thaw my attitude toward him. Given he was my jailer for unspecified reasons, that was a troubling thought.

“There is so much wrong with that speech of yours, it’s a little tough to unpack.” I pulled the black shirt over my head. It stretched across my bust and then hung down to my waist. “My village is mostly useless? Aren’t you asking me to recreate an elixir that came out of that village? A life-saving elixir? I think you are.”

I stepped into the pants and worked them up over my thighs and to my hips. That was where they stopped.

“These aren’t going to work. Younger you didn’t have any shape.”

He glanced back, his gaze catching the slip of lacy fabric posing as underwear. There wasn’t much to them, and apparently that was what Leala liked about them. They could be torn off easily. For such a polite girl, she did like roughness. She’d given me this pair because she hadn’t worn them yet.

Hunger burned brightly in his gaze. He tensed, every muscle going taut. With stiff movements, he bent to the chest of drawers.

“Your beast doesn’t want any other men using me? Is that all women are good for, our vaginas?”

“Women are good for nothing,” he snarled, but he didn’t even remotely sell it. He was trying to deflect his arousal—his arousal, not his animal’s. I could tell because my animal hadn’t risen to the occasion. This was all him, and that knowledge took the sting out of his words. I had power over him. He wasn’t untouchable.

“And yet you keep coming around,” I said.

“After tonight, that’s a situation I hope to rectify.”

“Hmm.”

He tossed me another pair of leathers. Did he have any other types of pants in there? “How often does this happen with you? Your animal wanting something you don’t?”

He turned, gave me a hard scowl, and crossed the room. “Hurry up. The night is wasting.” Then he gave me his back and stepped into the hall.

I’d struck a nerve. Interesting. Was there a lost love at one time that had rejected him? Something had certainly happened to make him this way.

These pants ended at my shins but mostly fit everywhere else, except for the extra room in the dick department. After putting on shoes and remembering to slip my pocketknife into one of the large pockets, I tied up my hair and met him in the hall. The demon had changed from a very handsome man to a hideous humanoid form covered in slick green scales. It had a serpentine face, twisted horns, and hands ending in claws.

“The glamor washes away when they die,” Nyfain said, his lip curling in disgust.

“The glamor… You mean he doesn’t actually change into a man? He’s always like that, we just can’t see it?”