Kas struggled to sit up, his gaze still vacant and not computing his surroundings.

Jareth stepped back, his upper lip sneering in something akin to pity and cool detachment. “One chance.” He held up his finger, smoke curling around his hand. “That one chance starts now.”

He waltzed toward the tree line, chose a particularly weathered-looking pine, crossed his ankles, and leaned his shoulder against the bark.

He took a drag on his cigarette just as Kas bolted upright, his mind rebooting, his memory kicking in, shoving me into fear and panic.

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CHAPTER SIX

GEMMA’S FACE WAS THE first thing I saw clearly.

Her strained, beautiful face with golden-hazel eyes, pinched cheeks, worried lips, and leaf-tangled blond hair.

And everything fell away.

The nightmare faded, leaving only streaks of horror slinking through my blood. How Storymaker had returned from the dead. How he’d thanked me for filling his house with slaves once again. How glad he was that he had fresh meat for his eager guests to sample.

I shook my head, doing my best to stop the echoes in my head. Storymaker had been rotten and worm-eaten. He’d been a walking corpse. Bone fingers complete with ribbons of skin hanging off a gaunt skeleton, stepping like a ghoul into the conservatory where Gem slept.

He’d touched her.

He’d run his motherfucking putrid fingers over her forehead while she slept. “She’s pretty, Kassen. You did good. She’ll be a nice addition to our Fable family.”

His sentence was far too similar to the thought I’d had when I’d first met Gem. When she’d broken in the bathroom and asked for privacy. When she’d picked up her pieces and dealt with me head on. She was strong. Probably stronger than I’d been when faced with such ownership. I’d respected her so much in that moment. I would’ve been honored to serve beside her because she had far more courage than I ever did.

I’d launched myself at him, smashing through the walls of the conservatory in my dream.

His emaciated, decomposing body vanished. His nasty cackle throbbed in my every heartbeat. “I’m taking her, Kas. She needs to be introduced to our guests. Don’t you think?”

I’d looked back to where Gem had been sleeping.

She was gone.

Her blankets empty.

Nothing but loneliness.

I’d lost myself then.

I’d forgotten it was just a dream.

I’d stepped over the line of reality and nightmare.

And I’d run.

I’d bolted after Storymaker, chasing him to the only place in this valley that housed Fable guests.

The boneyard.

The pit of decaying devils.

His laughter had grown louder and louder as I’d dug at the ground, desperate to get beneath the earth, fighting against a panic attack that Gemma was down there, with them, unable to get free, lost in the dark, being touched and hurt and—

“Christ.” I wiped my face and sat up, gently pushing Gemma away so she wasn’t hovering over me. I swallowed hard as vestiges of the nightmare lingered in my thoughts.

I’d dug as fast as I could.

I’d been prepared to break every nail and shred my entire hands if it meant I could free her from those monsters.

But then Storymaker had tapped me on the shoulder.

He’d morphed into Mrs. Snook—a sadistic witch who liked to play with canes—and she’d laughed shrill and nasty. I knew she swung both ways. She’d made Sarez scream. She’d left scars on Elise, just like she’d brutalized Zanik and Maliki. Her all-inclusive tastes made absolute ferocity pour through me.

I would never let her harm Gem.

My hands had wrapped around her throat.

I’d wanted to kill her.

I would’ve killed her if someone hadn’t punched—

I touched my temple, wincing at the throbbing agony. “What...what happened?” I swallowed a final time, giving myself entirely to reality and slamming a door on sleepwalking, sleep-digging, and all the other shit inside my skull.

Gemma swallowed nervously, her gaze skittering behind me before replying gently, “Jareth hit you.”

I winced. “Why?”

“He, eh...” She once again looked behind me before rushing, “You had another nightmare, Kas. You thought I was...well, I don’t know who you thought I was but...” She sat on her heels, her face falling, drawing my attention down her features to her stunning lips, tear-streaked cheeks, and the fresh collar of bruises around her neck.

“Ah, fuck.” I scrambled away from her, sickness rushing up my throat. “Did I...?” I shook my head. No. It wasn’t possible. I was in love with her. I’d accepted that I was in love with her. I would never hurt her. Not now. I would rather fucking die. “I did that?” My voice sounded like an animal trapped in an incinerator.

I’d tried to save her from Mrs Snook.

When really...the opposite was true.

Moving back to her, I hesitated before cupping her cheeks and raising her face. Her eyes locked with mine, wary and hurting but forgiving and wise. “You weren’t awake. I shouldn’t have tried to help. I just...I couldn’t stand by and watch you dig with your bare hands. You were calling for me. You sounded...” Tears glossed her stare. “You were distraught. I had to do something.”

“I thought you were down there.” I inched closer, never taking my hands off her cheeks. “I thought they had you. I’m so fucking sorry. I was trying to save you. I would never—”

“I know.” Her hands landed over mine. “And Jareth knows that too. He knows you’d never hurt me intentionally now, no matter what he thinks.” Her voice rose, deliberately sharp, delivered with conviction and irritation to the empty forest around us.

I frowned a little but never looked away from her. “Well, I’m glad he did something to stop me from hurting you. I would never have forgiven myself if I’d gone too far.” My voice cracked. “I mean it, Gem.”

All of it.

Everything I’d felt for her the night before. The shock of falling. The switch of my loyalties. The choice of putting her first. It all spewed out of me, desperate to be said in case I forgot. In case the next time I blacked out or had to be knocked unconscious, all this progress would be erased.

The words burned my tongue.

Commitment buckled around my heart, chaining us together with binds far stronger than the broken chain we still wore. “Last night...when I ran from you.” I licked my lips, running my thumbs over her cheekbones. “I realized something. A couple of things actually.” Bringing her forward, I pressed our foreheads together. “I remembered how I’d taken you without permission in the library. I remembered your screams, the way you fought me, and the awful, awful way you went lax beneath me, giving up because I didn’t stop.”

A twig cracked behind me, wrenching Gemma’s stare to something over my shoulder.

She shook her head just once before focusing back on me.

I went to look behind me, my skin prickling with awareness. I was being watched. We both were. I didn’t want an audience when I’d chosen to be vulnerable.

Was Jareth still here? Or had he left after punching me in the head?

If he didn’t go, he needed to leave before this next part. And if it wasn’t him, then fuck, I had a new enemy in which to fight.

However, Gem guided my attention back to her, and the depth in her eyes undid me.

All thoughts of violence, hate, and anger evaporated.

I was left swimming in remorse, guilt, and the undeniable revelation that if any part of me wasn’t in love with this woman, that part no longer existed.

I belonged to her.

I was no longer a slave.

I was no longer owned by anyone but this incredible girl who just kept on forgiving me when I didn’t deserve it.