Fable of happiness book two

His chest shot off the floor as if he’d been electrified, then fell backward. His arms landed by his sides, his head turned to the left with hair draped over his cheek and eyes.

Now.

Quickly.

Dropping to my haunches, I grabbed his left hand and inserted it into the rope. Leaning over him, I repeated with his right, drawing the lasso closed and securing a knot.

I couldn’t catch a proper breath as I fell backward, feeling like I’d just betrayed him even though he was the one who’d kept me prisoner for days.

Having him secure gave me a false sense of power and tears came hotter for his situation. Was this the throes of impending death? Was his brain bleeding? Would he have a stroke and pass away?

Needing to touch him, to somehow find a way to breakthrough his pain, I scooted closer to his head and ran my hands through his knotty hair.

I pulled upward gently, raising his neck and shoulders to place him carefully on my lap.

However, he shot upright.

He swayed in the blankets.

He blinked at the library around us.

And then, he did something that ensured, no matter how much time passed, no matter how much pain he granted or blood he spilled, I would never curse him, betray him, or hate him.

I would only love him.

Love a broken beast who’d survived so much.

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