Page 8 of Rapunzel's Outlaw Orc
Brannock, standing over me, bloody and snarling. Protecting me. Fighting something—someone—I can’t see.
In the vision, he’s mine. And I’m his.
My breath hitches. My fingers twitch in his.
He stares at me, confused. “Are you okay?”
For the first time in forever, the tower feels… different. Not safe. Not free. Butshared.
And I know beyond a doubt that this orc has changed everything because...
I beam at him. “You’re here to rescue me.”
Chapter 4
Brannock
Mine.
The second her fingers graze my jaw, the thought detonates in my head like a war drum. It carves itself into the marrow of my bones and rips down my spine like a lightning strike, hardening my cock. It’s not a sweet, romantic sensation—it’s primal. Gut-deep. No one has ever touched me or looked at me like this, not even when I was a boy.
I thought she was beautiful when I saw her from the window, glowing in the moonlight like a siren carved from ivory and gold.
But up close? She’s ruinous.
She’s no simpering female too fragile for reality. She has fire in her eyes and steel in her bones. Most women scream when they see me.Orc. Beast. Scarred and unwanted.They run. But Rapunzel looks at me like I’m a promise, not a threat.
The knowledge causes a knot to form in my chest. My fingers twitch with the urge to touch her. Claim her. Possess her. Burn the world down to keep my female safe.
My female?
No. She can’t be mine. That’s not how this works. I don’t get soft things. My life is fighting—hard edges and tough choices, not maidens with golden hair and amethyst eyes.
Rapunzel freezes, and for a second, I think maybe she feels it too. That same sharp crackle in the air between us. Then her eyes glaze over and become unfocused. Her lips part like she’s about to speak, but no sound comes. A little furrow forms between her eyebrows, and I swear I see a flicker of pain cross her face as if she’s seeing something I can’t.
“Are you all right?” I ask gently.
She doesn’t respond. Just stares through me as if she’s somewhere else entirely. A vision? A memory? Some echo from whatever enchantment ties her to this tower?
It wouldn’t surprise me. The hair thing is strange enough, but the moment she touched me, it was like the magic turned solid. Intentional.
I shift my weight, uneasy. Gods, she’s beautiful. Not in the soft, dainty way human women try to be. She’s radiant. Round and lush, with pale skin that practically glows in the flickering light of her oil lamp. Her hair is a mess of gold serpents coiled around the room, pulsing with quiet magic. And her body—hells, her body is a feast for a man who’s been starving a long, long time.
And I have been. Starving for softness. For something that isn’t pain and penance and blood on my hands.
Rapunzel jerks as she snaps out of her trance. She looks up at me with a smile so bright it kicks me square in the chest. My heartfeels like it’s about to leap out of my throat and punch me in the face. Gods, that smile could melt steel.
“You’re here to rescue me.”
Her voice is hopeful. As if the idea of being rescued is some grand fantasy she’s been waiting to live out.
“I—what?” Rescue? No. I’m no fucking hero. People need rescuingfromme, notbyme. If she knew half of what I’ve done, she’d push me out that window herself and celebrate my fall. But instead, she’s looking at me like I’m her salvation.
She tilts her head, and I catch a glimpse of something behind her eyes. Not naïveté. More like… longing. Hunger. As if she’s been alone for so long that even a monster like me starts to look like a miracle.
She cocks her head like she can see right through me and doesn’t give a damn about my rotten core. Her smile is gentle now. Almost shy. And it makes something fierce stir in me.
I try not to stare. Try not to picture her soft body stretched out beneath mine, mouth parted, eyes glazed. But fuck. She’s gorgeous. And I’ve been alone for so long that I don’t remember what it feels like to be touched without fear.
