A Ruin of Roses (Deliciously Dark Fairytales #1)(11)

I remembered the onslaught of emotions I’d felt back then. The horror, anger, sadness, and desperation, but I was young. I learned how to adapt. I learned purpose. A purpose I still felt. A fight I would not give up until the day I died.

This would be my life until I went out screaming. And if people would just leave me alone, I could get on with it.

“Hello, Phyl,” I said as the blacksmith walked toward me with a large hammer in his massive hand. He was the only man in the village who had never batted an eye about my love of sharp things.

He nodded with a smile, showing a large gap between his front teeth. “Well, hello, Finley. Lovely day, isn’t it?”

“Very nice,” I said, heading for the village center.

Devious Rita grinned at me from over the wooden counter in the tomato stall. “Well, hello, Miss Finley. Bed any demons lately? I hear the demon king likes virgins in particular.”

“Oh yeah? Dang. I’m not a virgin. Unless assholes count?”

She laughed and packed up a few tomatoes and some lettuce. “Probably. Did I tell you? I saw Patsy Baker getting spit-roasted the other evening. That’s when one is taking her from the rear, and one is taking her from the front.”

Devious Rita liked to make the young people blush. She had a field day with Hannon. I was much harder to rile up, but I appreciated her efforts. It was another side effect of being trapped here—some people had just gotten…weird. I’d learned to just roll with it.

“That right? Was she having a nice time?”

“Until she was squirted in the eye. That’s when—”

“I know what that means, yeah. No need to elaborate.”

“I heard the demon king snuck into little Dalia Foster’s room the other night and plucked her cherry. She’s expecting his child.”

“Gross. I hate that expression.”

Her grin was wicked.

I didn’t mention that “little” Dalia Foster was nearly my age and didn’t have any fruit left to offer…from any of her orifices. She’d experienced physical intimacy early, I’d heard, and experimented heavily. Apparently, the birth-nulling tea had failed her. But at least she had a good excuse to tell her overbearing father.

Devious Rita tied the bag and handed it over.

“And when will it be your turn?” she asked, her gaze dipping to my flat stomach. “You’re a pretty girl. Maybe the demon king will make an exception for you and sneak in your window. I hear he’s an excellent lover.”

“Oh yeah? Even with a knife in his gut? Because that’s exactly what would happen if he tried to climb into my room.”

She was talking rubbish, obviously. This village had seen the demon king exactly once, from what I had heard, and that was when he warned everyone to stick to the village or face death. He hadn’t been interested in the women then, and he wouldn’t be now. Not women from here, at any rate. We had always been the poorest village in the kingdom. He was also rumored to hate shifters. No, there would be no visits from the demon king in this place.

“If not him, then I guess you’ll be happy to hear that a certain someone has decided to finally take a wife…”

Cold ran through my middle.

She had to mean Jedrek. Ugh!

He’d been after me since I was sixteen, wanting nothing more than to get in my pants. After the string of rejections, he’d decided he didn’t just want a lay, he wanted to mate.

Delusion was strong with that one.

“You’re joking,” I said. This was all I needed. He was a tenacious fucker when he wanted something.

Her smile was cunning. “Not at all. I hear he was looking for you earlier. Very handsome, that Jedrek, isn’t he? And quite the hunter. He owns his own home, and his wife will want for nothing.”

“Except affection, her own free will, orgasms she didn’t facilitate herself…”

“Oh look, he’s coming now—”

I turned quickly and hurried down the way. Rita’s cackles followed me past the line of stalls. I needed to cut this trip short before he saw me—

“Finley!”

Too late. Dammit!

Jedrek stalked up to me with the swagger of a champion, his thick arms swinging, his chin held high, and his shining black hair catching the sun. More than one woman turned to look, appreciating the view.

This dipshit had somehow beaten Hannon out for the questionable distinction of most eligible bachelor. Sure, he was handsome. And yes, he did have a house and viable income, but that was only because he hadn’t done a damn thing to help his parents survive the sickness. Hannon could have those things too if he fucked his family out in the street and let Father succumb to the sickness. He wasn’t a weasel-faced fucker, though. That was the difference.

“Jedrek, hey,” I said, looking at my list so he got the hint that I was busy.

“You’re looking ravishing today.” He gave me an appreciative pat-down with his eyeballs.

“Awesome. I was just grabbing a few things—”

“Did you hear?” He slid his hand through his hair, flexing his bicep as he did so.

“Your ego is so heavy you stoop when you walk?”

“It’s time for me to take a wife. I have a nice little nest egg and plenty of room for a nursery.” His gaze lowered to my hips.