Page 90 of Once Upon a Fable

My muscles seized, and I almost fell backward. The thought of leaving? Of willingly stepping out of this sanctuary? It made the lump on my forehead ache in time with my galloping heart.

You have to leave. You have to catch her.

Forcing myself to do what was necessary, I reached for another branch and hauled myself up. I focused on the task of climbing toward the dying sun. I didn’t look at the canopy of leaves above me. I didn’t look at the river down below. I kept my attention firmly on my next handhold, next foot placement, and far away from the knowledge that men weren’t supposed to scale mountains.

One false move and I’d fall.

I’d most likely break something.

If I survived the plummet, I probably wouldn’t have the strength to gather enough supplies for the winter. I’d starve.

Focus.

Get her back and then worry about other things.

My breath came heavy as I climbed higher and higher. Occasionally, I’d see evidence of her path. A scuff on a rock. A crushed flower.

Birds suddenly squawked above me, spooking into a flock and circling something at the top of the cliff.

Her.

So her head start hadn’t been that great, after all.

Clinging to a boulder, I skirted around it until I found a helpful tree. I was approximately halfway up, and she was already at the top. If she had the stamina to run, she could put some serious distance between us.

She’s in socks. She’s probably not used to running without shoes. You’ll catch her easily.

Ignoring the fury unfurling inside me, I stayed focused and scaled the rest of the cliff. The closer I got to the top, the harder I found it to contain my anger.

She was the cause of all my problems, yet had she said she was sorry? Had she genuinely showed dismay at fucking up my world?

No.

She’d only been fearful of her own hide. Her apologies had been all about her. The way she’d looked at me in the forest when our lips had been so fucking close to touching, I’d believed...I thought.

Doesn’t matter.

She was a liar and a thief. She’d snuck into my home, pretended to talk to me, then stolen the precious sanity I had left.

She was worse than all the guests I’d had to entertain combined.

The worst because she’d made mefeel.

Made me hope.

For some reason, a lump existed in my chest as well as on my forehead. As if she’d struck my heart as well as my skull with the shovel.

I hate her.

My fingers burned with the need to wrap around her little throat and finish this.

Her attempt at running was selfish and ill-advised. She thought she could outrun me? She thought this wasoverbetween us?

Only I had the power to decide that. And she would understand precisely how over it was when I got my hands on her.

I grunted and climbed faster.

Up, up, up.