A Ruin of Roses (Deliciously Dark Fairytales #1)(17)

If I had more courage, I would stand my ground.

I spun and ran like hell.

I didn’t even know where I was going. Nor did I look back to see if it was following me. I had zero control over myself right then. Panic was driving this wagon, and it was doing it with drunk horses.

I zigzagged around trees and stumbled over rocks. My shoulder rammed a tree trunk I hadn’t noticed, and I careened into a tangle of briars. I gasped as a thorn ripped into my arm and tore my nightshirt. My breath came in fast pants, and the scene before me wiggled in my tear-soaked vision. Some hero. I’d slipped into full damsel, and honestly, I would not mind being saved. I would not mind it at all.

Beyond a set of reaching bushes, I suddenly realized where I was. The tall birch, seemingly out of place, stood before me a ways, marking the everlass field. Even in my blind panic, I’d had enough directional sense to get there. Given that I’d been caught thieving from this very field, it was probably the worst place for me to have led the beast. Then again, where the hell else was I going to go? I could hide in here all night and return home tomorrow…only to find the beast at my house again. I couldn’t escape the village, and now I couldn’t escape the beast.

Time to face the future. How will our hero turned coward escape this time?

Breathing heavily, I stopped in front of the birch and looked up. It took that as a cue to shake like a dancing girl, waving its branches and rattling it leaves.

“Would you shut up?” I yelled at it. “It can find me just fine on its own.”

The low growl behind me was proof of that. I sucked in a deep breath and turned once again.

It stood nestled in the trees, mostly obscured by the branches surrounding it but for those eyes, like two embers surrounded by blackness. Its head lowered, and I clutched my dagger tightly, raising it just a bit. Might as well give the illusion of bravery.

The enormous beast reduced down in a blink, turning into a nude man.

My mouth dropped open. No. It couldn’t be. This was impossible! The ability to shift had been suppressed by the curse. I hadn’t heard of anyone in this kingdom who could still manage it. And while it was possible our village was the only one that had been so afflicted, I certainly hadn’t heard that the beast turned into a man. That was something people would talk about. Warn others about.

He walked toward me, out of the trees. The moonlight fell over his messy brown hair and onto his wide shoulders and robust frame. Thick, well-defined muscle covered every inch of his tall body, not an ounce of fat to spare. He’d earned that muscle through hard-fought battles, I could tell. He looked like a man who knew exactly what he was capable of.

His movements were sleek and graceful, and his eyes—still that same animalistic gold hue—tracked me as he stalked forward. He was the hunter in this situation, and he knew it. The predator. He was sighting in on his prey. Me.

What caught me, though, wasn’t his muscle or obvious power. It wasn’t even the aura of danger that twisted my gut and made my legs tremble. It was his scarred appearance.

A mess of vicious scars cut across his physique. A ragged silver line on his pec ran beside his nipple, four parallel scars sliced through his side, and other lines crisscrossed his abdomen. He’d tried to cover them up with swirls of ink. It hadn’t worked, though. If anything, it brought more attention to his past trauma, some causing puckered skin and others creating valleys from what must’ve been deep wounds.

He stopped a handful of feet from me, his brawn and power making my breath come out unevenly. Even as man, he was enormous. I was a tall woman, but his height topped mine by a foot. The point of my dagger wobbled back and forth, and there was nothing I could do to hide my shaking arm.

“You are trespassing,” he said with a deep, scratchy voice. It sounded like he’d earned that, too. As though he’d screamed so hard and long that he’d damaged his vocal cords.

“You chased me in here. I hardly think that counts,” I said, adept at biting back against all odds. I’d had a lot of practice.

“The price of trespassing is detention. The price of stealing is death.”

“Good thing I didn’t steal, then.” I held out my arms to indicate my lack of stolen goods.

Clearly on impulse, he dipped his gaze down to follow the thread of the conversation. His eyes had started moving back upward, toward my face, when he did a double take and settled his attention on my chest. I belatedly realized that sweat had made my threadbare nightshirt cling to my freely hanging breasts, no time for binding before I ran from the house. The cold and fear had made my nipples stand at attention. He was getting an eyeful.

The pressure in the air increased. The weight inside of my middle flipped over, and more fire leaked out. My core tightened as his gaze slowly lifted to mine. Hunger flashed in those golden eyes. Lust. Dominance.

Something within me—something foreign but rooted way down deep—purred in delight. Desire warmed my body.

What the fuck is happening, folks? This shit is no good.

I recognized this feeling, though. It was the lust magic from last night. This still didn’t feel the same as an incubus’s power. Their power was lean and slinky and slick. Oily. This was…raw and intense and powerful. Dangerous. Delicious.

I pushed it away with everything I had, ignoring the sudden wetness between my legs and the unyielding desperation to be taken roughly. To have him pound that big cock into me over and over again.