Page 322 of Once Upon a Fable

It’s done.” Breathing hard, I dropped the ax and stepped back, waiting to see how many metal loops followed me. Not many. Just a short reminder. A length to match hers, no longer joined together—just a memento of so many sick and twisted things.

My knees wobbled as she moved toward me, picking up the short length and tugging it slightly, reeling me into her, a slave caught by a leash.

I wanted to tell her to stop. To let me go. But the closer she came and the more steps she dragged me forward, the thicker the air became.

Every inch of me buzzed with need as we stopped in the middle of the garden, her hands wrapped around the chain as if she never wanted to let me go. I was captive before her, aware my heart had a new master now, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.

“I promise I won’t run,” she whispered, her head tipping up, her hair slipping down her back like liquid honey.

I licked my lips. My blood hummed, and my bones sparked, and I couldn’t fucking breathe without inhaling her delicious scent of papaya, soil, and woodsmoke.

Woodsmoke?

I looked over my shoulder to the screen hiding the bath from the wind. Even from here, remnants of charred firewood and muddy ground were visible, giving simple and obvious evidence that the bathhadbeen used last night.

It’d been filled and lit, and I’d apparently fucked this beautiful girl beneath the moon, and we’d kissed and talked, and I—

I can’t goddamn remember!

It wasn’t fair that I’d forgotten.

I was sick of beingsick.

I was done with all of this.

The living alone.

The constant hard work and endless loneliness.

The refusal of my mind to give me anything but darkness.

The blank moments. The haze. The constant headaches and mood swings.

I wanted more.

I wantedher.

I wanted her even knowing I might forget her, hurt her...kill her.

I wanted to beniceto her.

But how do I do that?

How did I put aside a decade of animalistic existence? How did I shrug off the beast I’d become and willingly give up my life?

Because loving her would demand my life.

My sacrifice.

My pain.

And I would pay it because the way she looked at me? The way she trembled with welcome, with wariness, with hope—it undid me in the worst kind of ways.

It reminded me of those eight kids who I’d sheltered in the dark. Ofmy vow to take every rape, every bloodplay, every disgusting game so they didn’t have to.

That was the only part of me that was good.

It redeemed me, even if it condemned me.