Page 209 of Once Upon a Fable

She’d run from me.

She’d cared for me.

She’d turned me inside out and upside fucking down, and I didn’t know how to cope in this new world I’d woken in.

I can’t do this.Any of it.

I couldn’t let her go. I couldn’t stomach the thought of the empty rooms above me whispering with black history and horror. I couldn’t sleep in a valley where there was no one to talk to. No one there to make me feel. Make mehuman.

But I also couldn’t control the contradicting emotions drowning me. A part of mewantedher to hate me. It’d lusted for that moment since I’d strangled her the first time. I wanted to be feared and detested. If she looked at me like the scum I was, then I had an excuse to be exactly what she thought of me. I could be explicit and sadistic. I could happily embrace depravity and vengeance because, maybe, hopefully, if I took out my revenge on her, maybe it would help me heal. Maybe her screams could replace mine. Perhaps her pain could erase every agony I’d endured.

I grew hard.

My head pounded.

My balance went off kilter.

Fuck.

I bent over in Storymaker’s throne where I’d sat all night, watching clouds obliterate stars and the rising sun annihilate the moon.

My stomach threatened to evict the creamy carb-rich dinner she’d brought from a world I was no longer a part of. Tiredness slammed into me.

It didn’t matter that I couldn’t sleep in an unprotected room in this monstrous mansion. My concussion didn’t give a damn.

Heavy haze crushed me.

I toppled forward.

Ah, shit.

I was out cold before I even hit the carpet.

* * * * *

I woke to the faintest flutter around my stomach.

Barely-there caresses, soft teases, and erotic promises traced my muscles. I groaned. I was hard and needed relief. My balls were tight and heavy. My cock pulsed with the desire to release.

My hips drove into something unforgiving, seeking the warmth of the girl I’d been dreaming about. A perfect companion who always knew just what I needed and was always wet for me.

I thrust.

I winced.

My eyes shot open as common sense revealed I’d just dry-humped the library’s carpet.

Goddammit.

The room contorted and danced as my head swam. How much longer would I be at the mercy of whatever happened to my brain? Was Gemma right that I’d suffered a serious mental injury? Had I woken today as someone else, or had I slept soundly until—

Wait, what’s the time?

My eyes strayed to the clock by the bookshelves. A paua shell-carved extravaganza that didn’t fit with the rest of the smoky, masculine vibe of the reading den.

Holy shit, two p.m.?

I’d slept face-first on the carpet for eight hours?