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Chapter Eleven
The next week continued in the same vein as I continued to recover. When he was home, Wicked never let me out of his sight and never let his guard down.
Every day, he’d go out for hours and leave me locked up, returning as the sun was setting to make us di
Wicked seemed to love listening to the stories of me and Margaret getting into all sorts of trouble and appeared genuinely interested in everything I had to say. I couldn’t figure him out and as the time wore on, I sensed us both easing into an unfamiliar place where our walls were thi
Though I was enjoying myself, maybe even a little too much, the idea that I might charm him into releasing me was never far from my mind. Once in a while, I’d catch a genuine smile when I recounted some silly tale from my childhood. It transformed his entire face, rendering even those fearsome tattoos into something far more i
I tried to fish for information about him, both because I was genuinely curious, but also because I desperately wanted to know why he wanted to capture the ogre and why I was being made his unwilling sacrifice.
Every time I’d steer the conversation toward him, he’d clam up and then order me to bed, the conversation done for the night. He still chained me to it, though I suspected he did so with increasing reluctance.
He always slept without his tunic, maintaining a respectful distance that did nothing to subdue the heaviness that settled in the room every night. The sight and scent of his bare skin was a complete distraction and more than once I found myself wondering what it would be like to touch him, to smooth my hands over the swell of his shoulders or the lines of his chest. To drag my fingers down the planes of his stomach and explore...lower. I didn’t understand these indecent thoughts I was having more and more often. My emotions were turning into a jumble of warring desires threatening to tow me under.
It was about three weeks after I’d tried to run when I awoke one morning with my face buried into a cocoon of velvet that smelled of forests and the rain. Groaning in approval, I snuggled closer into the column of warmth. Then I cracked open my eyes, suddenly realizing what I was wrapped around. I looked up, hoping against hope he was still asleep and I could disentangle myself with no one the wiser.
However, a pair of curious pine green eyes regarded me. No such luck.
“Comfy?” he asked, a dark eyebrow arching. Frozen, I didn’t move, realizing that my arm and leg were both thrown across him.
“What did you do?” I accused, not really wanting to move. He was so warm and solid, and this felt better than I wanted to admit.
“This is my side of the bed, Princess. You’re the one who did something.” I looked behind me and sure enough, it had been me who’d clearly rolled over and was now lying practically on top of him.
“Shut up,” I said as I finally forced myself away, sitting up and scooting back until I hit the wall. Wicked tossed me a smirk before he rose from the bed. He quickly reached for his tunic and covered himself, but our gazes met, knowing we’d both just noticed the clear outline that stretched in the front of his breeches.
“It’s morning,” he stammered then, his face turning red. Oh, this was too good. “And your thigh was right where...” His nostrils flared and he tossed me a glare. “Shut up.” Then he turned and stomped away, not looking at me before he do
When he unlocked my ankle, I continued gri
Wicked started on breakfast, as always. It amazed me how he fed me and cleaned up every day without a word of complaint. I’d always been given to believe that men expected women to do these sorts of things for them. It had never been an issue for me, growing up surrounded by servants, and maybe I should have offered to help. That was likely the polite thing to do, though I wasn’t sure the usual ma
After we finished eating, I prepared myself for my usual day locked up while Wicked went out to do gods knew what in the forest. I was so bored and weary of this. None of his books were any good, and I couldn’t do anything while I was trapped in here and he took the only key with him. I examined every inch of my small prison, testing the hinges and the locks, but it may as well have been a stone fortress.
“Please don’t leave me here alone again,” I said. “I promise I’ll be good. I just need to get out of here for a few hours.” I put on my most pleading expression and even clasped my hands under my chin for good measure. “I’ll make you di
He arched a sardonic eyebrow. “Do you have any idea how to cook, Princess?”
I narrowed my eyes. What an ass. I had absolutely no idea how to cook, but how hard could it be? “Of course I can. What do you take me for?”
He gave me a look that suggested he knew I was lying and then strode over to where his boots sat against the wall.
“Fine,” he said. “But if you try anything, then I’ll make you sleep outside, chained to the battlements tonight. It’s supposed to snow later.”
“I promise,” I said sweetly, my voice dripping with honey while I batted my eyes. The look he threw me was filled with utter suspicion.
The sun was out today, the air warmer than it had been in days. I left my cloak behind, opting only for my heavy tunic and overcoat, and Wicked did the same.
We emerged to a bright blue sky stretching overhead, and I wondered if he was lying about the snow just to be a jerk.
“Come on,” Wicked said. “You walk in front and don’t get any ideas.”
I tossed him a dirty look and did what he asked, marching ahead as we slunk into the forest. The only time he spoke was to direct me to where we were going. He probably could have made it in a quarter of the time without me slowing him down, but he didn’t complain.
“We’re almost there,” he finally said as he brushed past me and we entered a clearing. In the center of it sat a large iron cage.
“What is that?” I asked, my hand drifting to my throat in horror.
Was he going to leave me out here in that?
He cast a look over his shoulder, and I didn’t need words to tell me that was exactly what he’d pla