Page 10 of Rapunzel's Outlaw Orc
“Maybe she’s protecting me from something truly dangerous. Have you ever thought about that? Maybe I came from another realm like you. Maybe I’m one of those creatures that Professor Karloff made with his Frankenpunch. Or an alien.” Her brows furrow, eyes wide as they meet mine. “What are aliens, by the way?”
I lift an eyebrow, surprised by the question. “You don’t know what aliens are?”
She shrugs.
“Aliens are beings from other planets. Other galaxies. They come in all shapes and sizes. Some are friendly. Some aren’t.”
She smirks. “Sounds a lot like orcs.”
I chuckle, my tusks flashing. Fuck, for someone tied to a tower, she’s got fire.
“Listen,” I say, stepping closer to the roots. “If I can climb down, I’ll find a way to come back for you.”
She nods, but her amethyst eyes hold no hope, only the weary acceptance of someone who’s heard too many empty promises.
I reach through the window to grasp one of the thick, rope-like roots. It twitches beneath my fingers, warm and alive. Bracing one foot on the windowsill, I find a solid handhold and hoist myself up. I’m halfway out the window when another root snakes out of nowhere and lashes around my leg.
“What the?—”
It yanks me up like I weigh nothing, swings me like a sack of grain, and drops me straight back onto the floor.
“Fuck,” I grunt, the wind knocked out of me.
Rapunzel winces. “Thought so.” She stands, stretches, and yawns, soft curves pulling my gaze like a magnet. “I’m going to take a bath. There’s food in the hamper if you’re hungry.”
She disappears into the tiny bathroom, leaving me with the lingering scent of flowers and sunshine.
I drop back onto the floor and groan. A bath. Rapunzel naked. My cock pulses. How the fuck am I supposed to survive this?
I am so. Fucking. Screwed.
Chapter 5
Brannock
About twenty minutes later, Rapunzel emerges, cheeks flushed from the heat and damp tendrils of hair curling around her face. I swear she’s trying to kill me.
She moves with a softness that draws my attention in ways I don’t want to think about. Graceful. Natural. She hums a little tune under her breath as she wraps a towel around her shoulders and pads barefoot across the stone floor.
“How was it?” I ask because apparently, I enjoy torturing myself.
“Good,” she says, smiling. “The water’s cold now, but it’s deep. I like to pretend it’s a lake. I read about them once.”
The image sends a whole different set of thoughts through my head. Rapunzel, floating naked on her back in crystal waters, her golden hair spread around her head, her dusky nipples breaking the surface.
Her violet eyes kindle as she looks at me, like she can read my heated fantasies. I’ve seen that look before. In taverns. Once,from a succubus who thought I was her mate. But this—this is something different. Something warmer. Wilder.
Something that makes my already too-tight pants feel like a punishment.
“Can I ask something?” I ask gruffly. “Have you ever tried to leave? I mean,reallytried?”
Her smile falters. She crosses to the chair and lowers herself into it, drawing the towel tighter around her.
“I tried once, when I was fourteen,” she says softly. “I cut my hair. I thought if I could separate from it, I could break the bond. But it was… agony. And it bled, like I’d opened a vein. But it grew back overnight. Stronger. Wilder.”
“Gods,” I breathe.
She shrugs as if it doesn’t matter, but it does. I can see it in the tight line of her mouth.
