Page 13 of Rapunzel's Outlaw Orc
She holds my gaze. “Doesn’t make you a bad one, either.”
I scrub a hand through my damp hair. “I’ve done things I’m not proud of. Things I can’t take back.”
She doesn’t flinch. “So have I.”
I turn my head fully to look at her, brow raised. “What could you possibly have done? You’ve been locked in a tower your whole life.”
She lifts her chin, eyes sparkling with mock solemnity. “I once ate an entire cake by myself and blamed it on a squirrel.”
“A squirrel?”
“It was a very convincing lie. Dame Gothel believed me. I even put what looked like tiny squirrel droppings in the icing.” She grins. “Not real droppings, obviously.”
A laugh bursts out of me before I can stop it. Loud and sharp and real.
She smirks. “See? Not so innocent.”
She has no idea just how gods-damned innocent she is.
I shake my head, still chuckling. “You’re a dangerous woman.”
“Oh, absolutely.” She nudges my knee with hers. “A menace to society.”
I sober slightly, the amusement still lingering at the edges of my voice. “It doesn’t bother you? That I’ve killed?”
She’s quiet for a moment before saying softly, “It bothers me that you carry it like a weight you don’t think you’re allowed to set down.”
Her words hit me like a punch wrapped in velvet.
“I may have been locked in a tower, but I’m not completely oblivious,” she continues. “Dame Gothel brings books and magazines sometimes. Or the latest copy ofThe Fable Forest Gazetteif she’s feeling generous. I know who won last year’spie fair, all the gossip from Screaming Woods, and that Fable Forest’s mayor may or may not be dating a banshee.”
“Is he?”
“Oh, absolutely.”
I shake my head, grinning again. Gods, she’s something else.
Her smile fades, and her eyes flick toward the stove. “Sometimes, I’m scared I’ve been forgotten. That the world keeps turning without me.”
The firelight catches the sadness in the purple-blue shimmer of her eyes, making my chest ache. She’s everything this place is not—alive, curious, kind. And for some reason I can’t understand, she sees something in me I never thought worth looking for.
I shift closer, not touching, but close enough that her lavender scent weaves around me like an intoxicating spell. “You haven’t been forgotten, Rapunzel.”
She swallows. “You don’t know that. Maybe the world never knew I existed at all.”
“I do.” I meet her gaze. “Because I found you.” She exists–real, warm, andbright.Gods, the world couldn’t forget her if it knew her. It’s simply not possible.
Her fingers twitch against the rug, like she’s fighting the urge to reach for me. Something flickers across her face. Hope? Disbelief? Fear? As if the only thing more terrifying than being alone isnotbeing alone anymore.
We sit there in a silence that hums with unsaid things. A quiet ache unfurls in my gut, a longing I haven’t felt in years. Not onlyfor her delectable body but for the closeness, the trust, the soft weight of beingwanted.
I stare into the fire, afraid of what I’ll do if I keep looking at her.
Afraid of what I’ll do if I don’t.
Because I want to consume her. To be consumed. To lose myself in this strange, impossible girl who doesn’t flinch from monsters.
“I think the tower brought me here,” I say quietly. “Not to trap me. But to show me something worth fighting for.”
