Fable of Happiness Book One Page 5

  I plummeted down, sinking to the bottom as fresh water consumed me. Wetness washed away my sweat, cooled the nasty aches in my belly, and reminded me, like all the times before, that it was okay to have needs. I was no different from the bears and squirrels who fucked in the forest. It was nature. It was natural.

  Still doesn’t mean I’m interested.

  My hands went to my hips and shoved off the boxer briefs. Ripping them down my legs, I bunched them up and swam nude. Swimming naked was pleasurable. Running naked was not.

  At least with nothing cupping me, I could forget the tightness of cotton. I could calm down and allow the heat in my blood to vanish.

  The temptation to let the boxers float away came strong, but I ignored it.

  I’d done that one too many times, and the available options in the house had dwindled to just a few pairs. Once they wore out, I’d have nothing. Therefore, I’d keep this pair even though I preferred to wear nothing for as long as the season permitted.

  I didn’t know how long I remained in the river, floating on the surface before ducking and gliding along the bottom. Hunger for food finally overshadowed my hunger for sex, and I climbed reluctantly from the watery embrace.

  Droplets cascaded down my torso and legs as I strode back toward the ivy-shrouded house. My cock bounced against my thighs, once again turning hard despite my self-disgust.

  I’d thought, as more time passed, that those urges would fade. In the beginning, I’d been blessedly free from wanting any form of sexual release. Unfortunately, it’d become rather insistent the past couple of years.

  The cramping in my balls. The hardness between my legs. My body’s demands for pleasure always went unanswered, but it cost me. It made my temper spike and frustration bubble.

  Stop it.

  Ignore it, and it will pass.

  Fisting the boxers, I focused on getting home. Once I’d eaten and done my daily chores, I could lose myself in a book. Perhaps, I’d find one I hadn’t already read. Or I could finally lower the chandelier in the entrance hall and clean the crystals. I hadn’t done that for years and had been putting it off for too long.

  It was a bitch of a job, but it was the only part of the house that hinted at the filth existing within the walls, and it bothered me.

  My mind continued to bounce from work to what I should cook. I’d have to start conserving crops soon. The endless task of freezing, drying, and preparing a larder for winter.

  I’d gotten pretty good at prepping. Supposed it was thanks to the third winter when I’d finally exhausted the large amount of produce that’d been stored here and almost starved.

  I hadn’t planned ahead.

  I’d gone hungry.

  For months, I survived on scrawny game and river water. By the time spring came and the snow left, I’d read every book in the library on cultivation and put the many packets of seeds in the storeroom to use.

  If it’s this hot this summer, it means an equally cold winter is on its way.

  Urgency made me walk faster, ticking off a mental checklist of things to do. The veggie patch needed weeding, the celery needed harvesting, and the cucumbers re-stringing. I also had the shit job of fertilizing, which included raiding the septic tank, scouring the woods for animal scat, and enduring the stench in the sun.

  But at least those chores were outside.

  I preferred those over the indoor ones.

  When winter hit and boredom found me, I methodically cleaned Fables from top to bottom. Every inch of that monstrous mansion was buffed, waxed, and dusted, hoping that this year, I might achieve the impossible and clean away the dregs of disaster, despair, and desolation that existed within its walls.

  My hands curled into fists.

  Today really wasn’t my day.

  Not only had I sleepwalked and suffered from lust that crippled my balls and thickened my cock but I’d also slipped into old habits.

  This house wasn’t Fables anymore.

  This house was mine.

  And if I had my way, it would never remember why it had such a title or why I’d spent one spring chiseling out the engraved name from all the keystones above the wooden doors.

  This place was nameless now.

  Just like me.

  Exhaling hard, I shoved my thoughts away. Thoughts were bad. Actions were good. I had a shit ton to do and didn’t need my mind delaying me any longer.

  My legs worked on autopilot, taking me home. Birds sang in happy tunes, chipmunks argued in the undergrowth, and my valley gave no hint that the predator from this morning remained.

  Good.

  I didn’t fancy taking on another bear. My encounter with one that first autumn, when I still had so much to learn, had almost meant my death. I’d almost lost. Almost.

  My fingers trailed over the scars he’d left behind on my torso. He’d wanted to claim the house as his own. I’d said no. We’d...argued. He’d left, and I hadn’t seen him since.

  I often wondered if he was still alive or if the seasons had claimed him like they’d tried to claim me.

  The shadow of the house welcomed me back as I stepped over the threshold into the kitchen. With a practiced toss, I threw the soaked boxers into the sink and kept striding toward the stairs that led to the dorm—

  Wait.

  I spun around.

  The door.

  It’s wide open!

  I never leave it open.

  Ever!

  You didn’t latch it this morning.

  You were too eager to bolt.

  Maybe the wind blew it open?

  I scowled outside at the calm trees and soft breeze.

  It hadn’t been windy all day.

  There was no way the heavy door would’ve opened on its own.

  Intruder.

  What kind of animal? What weapon would I need?

  My eyes dropped to the floor, searching for tracks.

  Claw marks.

  Pad indents.

  Slither hints.

  I ducked to my haunches, running my fingers over the tile.

  I stopped breathing.

  I couldn’t move.

  Not a paw print but the barely-there tread of a shoe.

  Fuck.

  Fuck!

  I shot up and backed away so fast, I bumped into the kitchen island.

  A shoe?

  What the fuck was a shoe imprint doing on my tiles?

  My heart rate exploded.

  I couldn’t catch a proper breath.

  Undiluted fear and the hottest, blackest rage snarled in my stomach.

  Human.

  There was a motherfucking person in my house.

  My house.

  Not theirs.

  Mine.

  I’d kill them.

  I’ll rip them limb from limb.

  Pushing away from the island, I bared my teeth at the dusty footprints and hunted.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  WELL, I’D CONFIRMED IT.

  I’m alone.

  The bedrooms had been decorated with scrumptious furniture, rich bedding, intricate sconces, and delicate works of art, yet I hadn’t found the slightest hint in any of the twenty suites that someone slept there.

  Each bathroom was untouched with fresh towels hanging off chrome rails, soap still wrapped in tissue paper, and taps so perfectly polished I could see my reflection in them. And just like the dining room and its shattered mirrors, each bathroom housed empty frames where reflective glass used to live. No debris existed, so meticulous attention to cleanliness was obvious, but the oddness of missing mirrors sent chills down my back.

  Who had done such a thing?

  Why?

  Did they still live here?

  No water marks in the showers, no laundry on the floor, no books on the side tables, no usual clutter of habitation. If someone did live here, they didn’t sleep in the house.

  So...where?

  Who keeps this place so clean?

  My head swam a little, either from the he
at, confusion, or dehydration. I’d somehow stumbled into a mystery that I doubted many people knew about, and my questions weighed me down. Curiosity scratched me. I’d hoped I’d find someone to explain the randomness of this home and the apparent attempt at sheltering it away from the population.

  It hadn’t wanted to be found.

  It’d been hidden away for a reason.

  And that reason was driving me crazy.

  Sighing heavily, I left the last bedroom—this one decorated in navy and cream with a four-poster bed and a mountain of pillows artfully arranged—and stepped back onto the landing.

  The skylight above, complete with its clumps of wildflowers, showed the sun had slipped into later afternoon. If I was going to make it back to my Jeep tonight, I needed to leave now. I’d already left it far too late.

  Gathering my hair off my neck, searching for some coolness after sweating in this hot house, I moved quietly toward the staircase. My boots made soft thumps on the gray carpet as I touched the banister and prepared to climb down.

  Only...

  A noise.

  A growl.

  The heavy pound of running feet.

  Someone’s here!

  My heart shot into my throat as a man suddenly exploded through the door disguised as a bookcase and skidded into the foyer. His legs splayed wide, his hands fisted by his sides, his eyes darting everywhere at once. His chest rose and fell with rapid breaths, sending sunshine scattering over his body and highlighting a thousand silvery scars.

  I sucked in a breath.

  He froze as his head whipped up and his dark eyes latched onto me.

  Time stopped.

  I swear it did.

  Every clock in the world paused as he stared at me on his staircase, and I stared at him below me. I drank in every inch of his naked skin. His cock hanging between wide legs. His defined muscles etching with fury and power. He looked as if he’d appeared from the river moments ago with dripping dark hair touching defined shoulders and grass sticking to bare feet.

  My stomach quickened. My heart raced. Every inch of me tingled with awareness.

  I didn’t know who he was or where he’d come from, but he was the wildest, most furious looking man I’d ever seen.

  Swallowing hard, I tried to speak. I licked my lips and pushed away my nerves, my voice quivery and full of guilt. “I didn’t mean to trespass. I—”

  He snarled.

  A rabid thundering sound that echoed in the marble-encrusted foyer.

  And then, he was running.

  Leaping up the stairs four at a time. His thighs rippling with power. His cock swinging. His arms coming up as weapons.

  A lifetime of safety and living in a tame society left me woefully ill-equipped for a monster rushing up the stairs.

  I didn’t understand.

  My brain refused to contemplate that this stranger meant me harm.

  But my body wasn’t so conditioned.

  It still operated on instinct, and it knew.

  It knew it was being hunted and needed to run.

  Run!

  I spun and sprinted down the corridor, racing for a bedroom.

  “Stop, please!” I screamed as he leaped the final distance to the landing and gave chase. The strength of his strides shuddered the carpet beneath my boots. “I only wanted—”

  He snarled again.

  No words.

  No warning.

  Just a beast about to tear me to pieces for trespassing.

  I’d die here in this mysterious mansion in the middle of nowhere.

  “No!” I careened into a bedroom, swinging on the door handle as I struggled to shut it. I slammed the door as fast as I could.

  I scrambled with the lock.

  No lock!

  The door exploded inward, bashing me off my feet and sending me sprawling to the floor. He stalked over the threshold. His dark eyes manic and long hair tumbling as if it was a shaggy pelt and he wasn’t human.

  I crawled backward, my boots skidding on the carpet, my palms burning. “No, wait. Please. I—”

  He stood over me, his nostrils flaring. He glowered at me with such loathing, his entire face bathed in evil. I scurried backward, but he dropped to his knees, imprisoning me between his spread legs.

  His hands wrapped around my throat. A heady scent of rivers and woods filled my nose.

  I instantly clawed at his wrists, digging my nails into his violent hold. “No, wait, I—”

  “How dare you,” he hissed, his fingers looping tighter around my neck, his touch shaking with anger. “How dare you!”

  “Stop!” I gulped and gasped, writhing beneath him, slashing at every part of him that I could reach. My fingernails scratched deeply but he didn’t seem to notice or care—impervious to whatever pain I granted.

  “Please...” I struggled harder. “Let me—”

  His fingers noosed tighter, his eyes flashing with hate.

  His entire presence overwhelmed me, taking master of my senses, crushing me deeper into the carpet. His skin was scalding hot. His muscles rock hard. His cock pressed against my belly as he continued to squeeze. And squeeze.

  I choked.

  I couldn’t breathe.

  My eyes felt as if they bulged with pressure, and my arms grew too heavy to fight. I kicked and kicked. My legs danced uselessly beneath him, unable to connect, unable to save me.

  “Stop!” I fought until I was too feeble to try.

  Get your knife!

  I fumbled for my pocket.

  I fought against the heaviness, the sluggishness.

  My fingers didn’t work properly.

  My kicking grew jerky as air retreated from my blood.

  I tried again to get my knife.

  I couldn’t.

  Panic drowned me.

  I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t beg.

  I looked into the face of my murderer and studied the scars on his cheekbones, the lips glistening with hate, the eyes molten with mayhem, and took my last breath as he bowed over me, the tips of his long hair tickling my cheeks, his nose coming so close to mine.

  “Die.” He squeezed a final time.

  And I did.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  THE SECOND SHE PASSED out, I shot off her and shook out my hands. I couldn’t stop the fire of touching her, of feeling her pulse flicker, of squeezing the life out of her body.

  I paced, looking down at the unconscious stranger. A girl who’d appeared out of nowhere and somehow entered my house.

  Where the fuck did she come from?

  Unable to remove the burn in my fingers, I ducked and checked her condition.

  If she was dead, then good riddance.

  If she wasn’t, then I had a choice to make.

  Slowing my breathing, I waited for a quick kick of her heart.

  There.

  Faint but steady.

  Fuck.

  I had a choice then.

  But how was I supposed to decide when she wasn’t welcome here? When her very existence threatened mine?

  I returned to pacing, dragging my hands through my hair and shoving aside dampness from the river. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. It’d been so long since I’d seen anyone other than my own river reflection that she looked foreign. Wrong. A combined creation of everyone and everything evil that had been done to me.

  I stopped and stood over her.

  With blond hair spread and tangled on the carpet, arms bent at her sides, and legs wide from kicking, she looked vulnerable and nonthreatening. She was a girl. She couldn’t hurt me.

  Then again, my life experience said she could. All it would take was a moment of distraction on my part, a slight give in my wariness, and she could kill me as surely as I could kill her.

  I nudged her cheek with my foot.

  Her head lolled to the side, but her eyes didn’t open. She didn’t come back to life. She remained utterly at my mercy to either finish the job or devise another plan that didn’t involve more blood on
my hands.

  Think.

  I grabbed my hair again, tugging it, forcing my brain to unriddle this problem.

  First, I needed to make sure she was alone. Where one human was, more were sure to follow. Until I knew why she’d come after me and who would come after her, she was worth more to me alive than dead.

  I sighed, dropping my arms with a scowl.

  The sun had decided to hide above the branches cocooning my valley, and shadows crossed over her face. Her nose was small. Her cheeks round. Her eyebrows the same color as her hair.

  She kind of looks like—

  Don’t.

  I gritted my teeth, shoving the memories away. They weren’t welcome while daylight still existed. Besides, I had work to do. It no longer involved the chores I’d set for myself but ensuring this girl remained shackled and unable to run.

  For the first time, I let myself study the room where she’d sought solace. A gold and teal monstrosity with lace on the coverlets and a wardrobe full of expensive gowns. I’d braved each of these rooms to ensure they remained clean, but at no point would I ever sleep in them.

  No fucking way.

  Chills darted down my back.

  I’d been in here too long.

  So you’ll leave her on the carpet then?

  I sniffed, glaring at her again.

  Why the hell did she have to find me? Why did she have to interrupt my life after I’d worked so hard to make it mine?

  I couldn’t leave her here. The windows didn’t lock, and the ivy outside meant it would be a simple task for her to shimmy down and vanish into the valley.

  Had she come through the cave? That was the only entrance I knew of. Were others waiting for her to return?

  My mind raced with questions. Sweat broke out over my skin as fresh anger coursed through my body.

  Bending over her, I danced on the edge of just killing her. Of getting it over with so I could pretend this never happened. But as I stared at her blank face, I grew traitorously hard.

  For the first time in eleven years, there was a female in this house.

  A female who was at my command. A woman I could do anything I liked to.

  I could use her.

  Hadn’t my needs demanded this very thing? I refused to touch myself, and the desire in my blood had become excruciating. Nature always provided an outlet. Male birds found female birds. Horny coyotes howled until they found a mate to bite and mount.