Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

I slept like shit last night because of a dream about the upcoming wedding. In it, Fran lifted her groom’s visor like a veil, revealing not the prince, but a clown with garish makeup. He laughed at all of us and then ran around the wedding, tearing apart decorations and hitting everyone with a fake hammer. When I finally caught him, his paint smeared off, revealing my own face as he continued laughing like a madman.

The wedding guests surrounded me, yelling about me being a terrible person. Somewhere along the lines, I lost my clothes, leaving me to defend myself only in my underwear.

That’s when the evil mage on a horse made of fire burst in and declared he was going to take over the world.

At breakfast, I slumped in my chair, pushing food around on my plate. I could feel the weight of the bags under my eyes and would have curled up under the table like a cat if I thought I would actually get any sleep.

“Are you alright, Frederick?” Mother asked me for the hundredth time.

“Yes, Mother,” I said, again.

She looked even less convinced than the last time. “Why don’t you join us for this morning’s court session?”

I had no good excuse not to, so I agreed, thinking we’d be done by noon.

Except after the court session, she dragged me to every other damn meeting she could think of. The Good Wizard was scheduled to arrive a few days before the wedding, and I had to sit through conversations with the head chef and head of housekeeping on all the special preparations for his stay. I spent hours locked away in stuffy offices, listening to arguments on halibut versus cod or the best interior design style for a magical guest.

The afternoon was well on its way before I escaped my mother’s watchful gaze to finally check on Brendan.

Though he hadn’t attacked me yesterday, I still couldn’t let my guard down. As I opened the front door, I flinched automatically, expecting a sneak attack. Nothing happened. Stepping fully inside, I found him sitting on the couch, sniffling loudly as he balanced a book in one hand and vigorously wiped his eyes with the other.

Alarmed, I rushed to his side. “Are you okay?”

He yelped and the book went flying, hitting me in the chest before tumbling to the ground. I blinked and picked it up, reading the spine: The Bride’s Revenge by Lucy Merriweather. He’d probably found it on the shelf somewhere. Franny was always giving me books to join the cramped library in the tower. I read maybe a tenth of them and had no idea what my own collection held. When I’d told him about this book, I hadn’t expected him to find a copy and start reading it immediately.

“I’m perfectly fine,” he replied as he straightened, wiping his nose as discreetly as possible with his sleeve.

The motion drew my attention to the dirty state of his sleeve. Shit, I hadn’t thought to bring him new clothes. I was so not prepared to keep a captive for more than a few hours, and we were already on day three.

“It’s so dusty in here my allergies are acting up,” he explained.

The room was kind of stuffy. There were a few windows in the tower, but without a good breeze they didn’t bring in a lot of fresh air.

“If I could take a walk …” he said, his voice suspiciously casual.

“Sure.”

His head whipped around, and he stared at me, his whole body tense, totally negating any pretense at not trying to escape. “Really?”

“Yeah, but I have one condition.”

Wary now, he asked, “What’s that?”

He hadn’t agreed yet, but he hadn’t said no either. “I’ll be right back.” I jogged up the stairs to the bedroom and searched along the wall until I found the seam. Knocking on the panel, the door opened, and I pulled out a chest.

“I had no idea that was there.”

Yelping, I turned to find Brendan standing in the doorway. That was the third time the bastard had snuck up on me!

“It’s uh, private,” I replied, trying to block his view with my body. My cheeks heated in embarrassment as I dug through the items in the chest until I found what I needed. With a triumphant grin, I held it up for his inspection.

Brendan looked at the red rope dubiously. “What’s that for?”

“I’ll bind your wrists with this”—I mimicked tying him up—“and hold onto one end. That way we can go for a walk.”

Jaw clenched in anger, he snarled, “I am not your dog.”

I studiously avoided looking at the red leather collar that often accompanied the ropes. “I know, but I thought this would allow you to get some fresh air without me having to pin you down the whole time.”

“The point of the walk was to escape.”

Duh.“If you don’t want to,” I began, putting the rope away in super-slow-motion.

His eyes skated between the rope and the window, which clearly displayed the cheerful blue sky, the verdant tree leaves. A faraway call of a songbird trilled in encouragement. Sighing in defeat, he held his arms out to me. “Fine.”

Ducking my head to hide my grin, I loosely looped the rope around his wrists. “Bind.” The rope tightened, twisting and slithering over itself, binding him tightly but comfortably, avoiding the risk of accidentally cutting off circulation.

His eyebrows arched in surprise, and he leaned over to look past my shoulder. “First fairy dust, now magic ropes. How many magical items do you have?”

I closed the lid of the trunk with my foot and clasped the end of the rope firmly. “Come on. We have about an hour before I have to head back to the castle.”

The rope hung limp between us as we walked down the stairs. Halfway down, Brendan tripped, crashing against me. I planted my feet and caught him, shoving him against the wall and holding him there as my heart pounded from adrenaline. “Are you okay?” I asked.

He was short of breath, eyes unfocused. His skin was paler than usual, the brown freckles standing out in stark contrast. Eventually he nodded and said, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Since hanging out on a stairway seemed more dangerous than walking down it, I accepted his answer. We took the remaining steps at a slower pace.

Outside, he paused and lifted his face to the sun. The light played with his red hair, turning it into a beautiful, lively flame. He bathed in the sunlight, his whole face at peace. If Franny had been interested in men, she would have hit the jackpot. Sculpted jaw, straight nose, plush pink lips that had probably kissed a hundred women.

The peaceful beauty faded when he opened his eyes and remembered my existence, his mouth and eyes pinching in annoyance.

I looked away, embarrassed and miserable to have been caught staring. “Let’s get this over with.”

I couldn’t exactly parade him around town, so our only option was to walk in a circle through the surrounding forest. On the first viewing, the scenery was charming and idyllic, the perfect place for a first date—not that we were on one.

On the second, the trees started to blur together, a monotonous blend of browns and greens.

By the third round, both of our feet dragged. Neither of us had any enthusiasm for that version of exercise. “You could just tie me to a tree and leave me for a while,” he suggested, waving at the closest one with his bound hands. “I’d be perfectly happy to sit outside for a change of scenery.”

And risk someone stumbling across you? Absolutely not.

“How does this rope work, anyway?”

As if I’d tell you.

“You said something back there. What was it?”

My eyes widened in alarm, and I turned to face him. “No, don’t!”

His lips spread in an evil smile as he said with clear relish, “Bind.”

Before I could drop my end of the rope, it wrapped around my arms. “Fuck—”

“Bind,” he repeated.

“Wait!” After my arms, the rope slithered over my neck and down my chest, weaving itself into intricate diamond patterns.

“Bind, bind, bind!”

“Stop, seriously!”

There was only so much rope. Once it ran out, it yanked us together and we both toppled to the ground, Brendan on top of me, right between my legs.

My head hit the ground with a soft thud, dazing me badly enough that I saw birds flying overhead. A minute later, I realized we’d simply startled a flock out of one of the trees, but that didn’t mean I didn’t have a concussion. I was certainly having a hard time breathing with another person lying on top of me, his elbow in my stomach.

“It’s not,” I began on a slight wheeze, “a good idea to repeat the command word.”

Brendan ignored me, wiggling in a way that pushed his elbow more firmly into my solar plexus. After a while, he managed to prop himself up. Only his wrists were bound, where I was trussed up like a pig on a spit.

“How do I undo this?” he demanded, the words muffled as he tore at the rope with his teeth. Chewing on them would more likely ruin his teeth than the ropes.

I sealed my lips shut. There were two ways to undo the spell, but I wasn’t about to tell him either one.

Eyes blazing with determination, he snarled, “Fine, I’ll figure it out myself. Let’s see … release?”

Nothing happened.

“Open sesame?”

Nope, nada.

“Free me?”

His attempts continued along those lines, the failures outlasting his stamina. Eventually he shifted so his head rested on the ground near mine. He’d at least been polite enough to adjust his arms so his bones stopped stabbing me.

“Come on, man, do you really want to stay out here with me all day?”

Yes. Wait, no, that’s not … shut up, brain.

“Don’t you have a safe word or something?” He shifted again to try to look me in the eye, his groin pressing right up against mine.

I bit my lip to suppress any unfortunate sounds—we didn’t need a repeat of the groan versus moan argument.

His eyes narrowed and he purposefully moved his hips again.

“Stop that.”

Another small adjustment had him sitting up, towering over me, the position forcing my ass off the ground. I balanced on his thighs precariously, unable to get any leverage to move away from him.

His lips spread in a gloating smile. “I see. Since you’d kidnapped me, I thought maybe you used the ropes to tie up your lovers, all part of the roleplay. That’s not the case, is it?”

My cheeks heated—actually, my whole body was feeling a little feverish. I had to find some way to distract him and change the subject. “How can you be so dumb you haven’t figured out the reverse command yet? It’s so easy.”

“You’re the one who likes to be tied up, aren’t you, Rick?” His voice took on a new timber and cadence—low, rumbly, and suggestive—and my stomach clenched at the sound.

“Please.”

“Please what?” he asked, his bound hands lowering until they grazed the outline of my erection. “Please stop? Or please keep going? I’m guessing the latter since this is clearly turning you on.”

“It is not!” The breathy quality of my voice wasn’t doing me any favors, so I snapped my mouth shut again.

“You must have a safe word,” he murmured, stroking me through my clothes until I went cross-eyed. “Tell me what it is.”

If I did, the ropes would completely fall away, and then he’d run straight to the castle and tell everyone what I’d done. I shook my head stubbornly.

“You said it would be easy,” he mused, his touch light and infuriating. “But I hadn’t guessed it yet. Is it just … unbind?”

The ropes immediately loosened on me. I shoved him off, scrambling out from under him. His own wrists remained tied, and he looked at them in pure affront, before glaring up at me. “What the fuck?”

Panting, I grinned down at him in triumph, adjusting myself to relieve some of the discomfort. “The person who says the first command word also has to say the reversal. Otherwise, you could just release yourself whenever you wanted. Where’s the fun in that?”

“Which is why you wouldn’t tell me,” he said, begrudgingly impressed. “Because if you said it, I would have been freed while you were still tied.”

I shrugged. “Yes and no. The safe word ends everything.”

“And what is your safe word, exactly?” The too-casual tone had returned.

I snorted and ignored the question, picking up the end of the rope. “Come on, let’s go back in.”

He pushed himself to his feet and trudged after me. “Is it really that important to keep me here?”

I hesitated, my back to him. “The Good Wizard is supposed to arrive in a few days. I’ll ask him if there are any alternatives.”

He didn’t say anything as I walked him back to the tower. Once I closed the door, I answered his earlier question. “Pestilence.”

The rope drooped, freeing his hands, and he arched an eyebrow at me.

“No one can get it up when they’re thinking of disease,” I explained as I wound the rope back up. I probably shouldn’t have said anything. Now that he knew the release, I wouldn’t be able to use the ropes again.

“Well, at least I know what to say if your torture ever becomes truly unbearable.” He walked back to the couch and picked up the book, holding it like a screen between us.

The clear dismissal stung for a reason I couldn’t name.