Chapter Eleven

Ispend most of the day after Troy leaves just wandering around the cabin, trying to keep myself occupied. He brought me a stack of books on an earlier trip into Stonehaven, but none of them hold my attention today.

My mind keeps drifting back to the man he saw in the woods. Did my father send him?

I pace back and forth to the windows, peering out, searching for the stranger. Every little sound has me jumping out of my skin. But if the man is still out there, I never see him. He never approaches the cabin.

Eventually, I force myself to stop looking and find something else to do. I scrub the floors from one end of the cabin to the other. Troy rarely lets me clean. He usually does it himself, telling me that I”m not responsible for cleaning up. In fact, he rarely lets me lift a finger around here. He pampers me, spoiling me exactly as if I were back at Rosewood.

Only, I don”t mind it out here. I love that he wants to take care of me. It”s sweet. I don”t think he”s ever been that way with anyone—so soft and gentle. It”s a side of him reserved solely for me.

Am I going to lose it? If that”s my father”s man…is my happily-ever-after going to come crashing down soon?

I hope not.

I”ve barely finished the floors when the phone Troy bought me rings. I rush across the room to grab it.

”Hello?”

”Angel,” he breathes.

”Troy.” I close my eyes, letting his commanding voice wash over me.

”You sound out of breath.”

”I was scrubbing the floors.”

”Thalia.”

”I don”t mind, Troy. I needed something to do.”

”You have something to do,” he growls. ”You read or nap or knit or watch the squirrels or anything you want other than scrub floors, angel. That”s not your job.”

I smile despite myself. He sounds so cranky. ”I miss you. Will you be home soon?”

He sighs. ”It”s taking longer here than I expected. I may be later than I thought.”

”Oh.” I worry my bottom lip between my teeth. ”Is everything all right?”

”Everything is just fine, angel. There”s nothing to worry about. I promise.”

”Okay,” I whisper.

”When I get there, I”m going to take what belongs to me whether you”re awake or not, sweet Thalia,” he growls, making my core clench. ”I want you wet and naked, waiting for me.”

”Troy,” I moan, a wave of heat rolling through me.

”I mean it, angel. Be naked and ready for me.”

I”m always naked and ready for him when he gets home from Stonehaven. Our game is twisted, but it”s my favorite. I pretend I”m asleep, fighting not to move or make a sound while he touches and licks and fucks. Eventually, I crack, coming alive for him. Unable to pretend any longer. Sometimes, I manage to hold out all the way until I come. Most of the time, he breaks me long before then.

Maybe the things we do are wrong, but I don”t care. With him, I”ve never felt more right or whole. If it”s wrong to enjoy the dark, wicked things he does and says to me, then I”ll be wrong. If I”m damned for loving him the way I do, then I”ll be damned. I don”t care.

I love him with every fiber of my being. My soul is his. Not because fate demanded it. Not because the curse tied me to him. Not even because the magic in Fable Forest is potent and raw. It”s his because I”ve never felt more alive than I do with him. Because, for the first time in my life, I know what it”s like to be truly free.

Here, I”m not a princess, bound by duty. I”m not a Rosewood, shackled by a curse. I”m simply a woman, desperately in love. When I left my kingdom, I thought I was running from something, but I wasn”t. I was running to something. I was running to him and to this.

I have to tell him the truth. Even if he decides he no longer wants me, he deserves to know. He deserves the same choice I had, the same freedom he”s given me. I have to give him that. That”s what love is. It”s choice. It”s freedom.

”Troy, I…”

”I”ve gotta go, angel,” he says at the same time and then pauses. ”Did you need something?”

”No,” I say quickly, swallowing back my confession. Now isn”t the time to tell him. I don”t want it to be on the phone when I spill my secrets, with miles separating us. I want him to be in front of me so I can see his face—so he can see mine. When I tell him everything, I want him to know that I love him, that I choose him, and that I understand if he can”t choose me, too.

”I”ll be home soon,” he promises. ”Be ready for me.”

”Okay,” I whisper. ”Be safe.”

”Always, angel.”

Three hours later, I”m still wide awake when the front door opens. He”s home. My stomach quivers with anticipation, my core clenching.

I close my eyes, rolling onto my back. The sheet slips, but I pull it all the way up to my neck, intent on teasing him a little. He said he wanted me naked and ready. He can squirm, wondering if I complied. It”ll do him good. He”s so commanding, so tyrannical sometimes.

It drives him crazy in the best way when I disobey or work around his orders to creatively defy him. I don”t think anyone ever tells him no. Anyone except me, anyway. I run when he says not to do it. I come when he says don”t. I suck when he says lick. And I watch his restraint unravel bit by bit with every order I defy.

I breathe deeply, listening to him move around the house, trying to stay completely still as he creeps closer to the bedroom.

My body is already on fire, aching for him and what he”s going to do to me. God. I always ache for him. He”s an addiction—powerful and potent.

The bedroom door creaks open.

My heart thuds against my ribcage.

I listen for a long moment, waiting for the sound of his steps or his voice calling out to ask if I”m awake. When neither comes, I crack my eyes open just a tiny fraction to see what he”s doing.

My heart stalls in my chest.

The man standing in the doorway, illuminated by the light of the fire, isn”t Troy. He”s tall and imposing, dressed in all black. Locks of blond hair fall over his forehead. His green eyes gleam with malice.

A sudden, deafening explosion reverberates through the room. Wood splinters inches from my head.

I scream, rolling from the bed with the sheet clutched to my chest. My heart races, every wild beat knocking against my breastbone in jarring thuds. The air is thick with the smell of gunpowder and fear.

The sound of my own panicked breathing fills the air as I try to make sense of what just happened.

”Don”t move,” he growls, pointing the gun at me.

Oh my god.

My entire body trembles, terror coursing through me in a flood.

God. Why did I let Troy go? Why didn”t I beg him to stay with me?

Where is he?

”Please,” I plead, more afraid than I”ve ever been in my life. ”Please, don”t hurt me. I”ll go with you. I”ll go back home if t-that”s what my father wants. Just don”t hurt me.”

”Your father?” The man laughs, the cold sound sending a chill through me. ”I don”t give a fuck about your father, sweetheart. You”re a problem Stonehaven can”t afford. I”m here to fix it.”

Stonehaven?

”I…” Terror claws at my mind—at my throat. Confusion swirls through me in a black cloud.

”Troy is done with you, effectively immediately.”

Troy.

Oh, God. No. Please, no.

”T-Troy sent you?” His name shakes on my lips.

The intruder hesitates for a second and then nods. ”Yes.”

My world shatters into a million jagged pieces as I struggle to comprehend the betrayal. I thought I knew what heartbreak felt like, but I was wrong. This is heartbreak. It”s complete devastation, ripping through me like a bomb blast. It hurts everywhere—every atom, every cell—all the way to my very core.

A strangled sob escapes my lips as I realize that everything I thought was real was just my own wishful thinking. My body trembles with the force of my emotions, tears streaming down my cheeks.

Somehow, he found out who I am. He knows I”m the princess he was supposed to marry. Maybe he even knows about the curse and how only the man destined to love me could break it. He knows he”s been controlled by something greater than himself.

My one true love…hates me.

He sent this man to kill me to ensure that he never had to see me ever again. To ensure that he couldn”t be forced or controlled.

When he said hell would freeze over, he meant it.

”He doesn”t have to kill me,” I sob. ”If he d-doesn”t want me here, I”ll leave and never return. H-he”ll never have to see me ever again. I”ll n-never l-look for him. I”ll n-n-never contact him. You can t-tell him that you k-killed me.”

He doesn”t have to shoot me to destroy me. He already did that. Troy did that.

I won”t beg him to love me. If he didn”t want me, all he had to do was ask me to leave. Instead, he chose to send this man to kill me.

Deep down, I know this isn”t who he really is. This is the man I feared he”d become—cold, unfeeling, and tyrannical like our fathers. The one I made him promise he”d never let himself become.

Is this what I turned him into?

A defiant voice in my head screams that it isn”t true, that Troy would never do this. He would never let himself become this, no matter the reason. But as I stare down the barrel of the gun clutched in this man”s hands, it”s hard to believe anything else.

This man said himself that Troy sent him—that he”s done with me.

Why would he lie? Troy is the only one who doesn”t want us married. My father—Troy”s father—wouldn”t send this man to kill me. They”d send him to bring me home, perhaps. But not to kill me.

As much as my heart screams for another explanation, I don”t see one.

”Get dressed and go,” the intruder says. ”Never come back here again. Never step foot in Stonehaven. If you do, I”ll kill you.”

I scramble to gather my clothes, tears streaming down my face as I realize that, in a kingdom where everyone lives out their fairytales, mine has turned into my worst nightmare. With shaking hands, I throw on my clothes and flee, leaving behind the shattered pieces of my heart in the very room where, just weeks ago, I thought my dreams had finally come true.