The Dark Forest: A Collection Of Erotic Fairytales(143)

The pulse of need between her thighs brought on by his words made a blush burn its way up her chest and into her cheeks. There was definitely something wrong with her. With both of them. None of that should have excited her. “You’re sick.”

And so am I.

“I won’t argue that. I won’t argue any of it.” With a shrug, he gestured towards the papers scattered across the floor. “But all of that is real.”

“I don’t believe you.” Her hands formed tight fists at her sides, nails biting into the skin as she tried to stay calm, her rational mind fighting its way forward. “This is just a skewed sampling of data, put together in an attempt to prove some ridiculous hypothesis that my father was—”

“Tell me your last memory of your mother.”

Rebecca rolled her eyes and turned away from him, walking back over the pages to drop onto the mattress. She was done with this insanity. Done with this damn conversation, done with trying to reason with a monster, and done with the throbbing ache behind her eyes and the hum between her thighs. With a growl, she swallowed the two pills with a sip of the water.

“You’re going to want to eat the toast if you took the medicine.”

“Since when do you give a shit how I feel?” she snarled at him, but ripped a bite of the toast off anyway and devoured it. Picking at the crisp edges as she glared down at the papers.

He sighed. “Tell me your last memory of your mother.”

“She died when I was a baby. I don’t have any memories of her.”

“Try harder, princess. What’s your last memory of her?” He was so calm, so monotone, while she was a ball of tangled thoughts and rage. As the fire in her belly grew, she was about to scream at him, but then there was a flash. A woman with long blonde hair smiling at her, laughing. It disappeared as quickly as it came, taking with it the vicious words she’d planned to shout. “Are you remembering?” he asked.

Rebecca shook her head, the mental cloud of the hangover was making it hard to think clearly. Making her imagine things. “There’s nothing to remember. She died shortly after I was born.”

“Did she?”

“Yes.” Rebecca nodded, swallowing the suddenly too dry bread. She chased it with more water. It was the hangover, it was messing with her head. He was messing with her head. This whole fucked up situation was doing nothing but mess with her, and he’d already admitted that was exactly what he’d wanted all along. She was just playing into his game now.

“How?” he asked quietly, and she lifted her eyes to him with a rough laugh.

“She got sick.”

“With what?”

“Why the fuck does that matter? She got sick! She died! My father loved her so much he hasn’t been with anyone since. He just opened a women’s shelter in her name for fuck’s sake!” Kicking out in frustration, she sent more of the papers spinning away, mixing all of the horrible words together. “You don’t know anything! Not about me, not about my father, not—”

“I know why your mother died.”

The words rocked her, a dizzying heat flushing up her chest that left her speechless. Her lips parted to speak but nothing came.

“I know when your mother died too.”

“No, you don’t. You’re a liar.” She shook her head as she tried to block him out.

“I’ve never lied to you, princess. She tried to leave with you. To take you out of The Tower, to free the both of you—but he caught her.” His voice was too soft, and in her head she saw the doorknob from her dream. Heard the soft cries beyond it.

I can’t open the door.

Were those dreams, or memories? She rubbed her eyes and finished the water in the glass. “You’re wrong. He didn’t, he wouldn’t—”

“Did you notice the similarities in all those women? Did you really look at the photos? Who do they all look like?”

“Stop.” Her chest was tight, her head pounding, and there was something just out of sight, like a word on the tip of her tongue, something pushing at her mind, wanting to be seen.

“They were all blonde. Blue eyed. Fit, beautiful. And your father was a king, with a growing and thriving empire, but no heir.” He stood slowly, unfolding those long limbs, and then he moved towards her. “He wanted a legacy. Someone who would look like him. Someone to own. Someone to shape, to fill with his ideals, with his mission.”

“You couldn’t possibly know all of this.”

She raised her eyes to his, realizing he was now so close he was towering over her. Carved marble perfection, angelic features, offering a devil’s deal. “If you want to know the truth, Rapunzel, now’s the time.”

“What are you going to do to me?”

“If you’ll let me, I’m about to ruin your life.” He held out his hand, and for some insane reason, as her eyes flicked over the pages and pages of accusations, the voices of women she would never know—she took it.

More gently than she thought him capable, he pulled her to her feet and led the way out into the hall, releasing her as he headed in the opposite direction she’d fled the day before. He stopped at an open door, waiting patiently for her to follow.

No threats, no aggressive movements.

Nothing.

As she slowly moved towards him, he tilted his head into the interior. “Come on.”