Page 215 of Once Upon a Fable

Game plan:Two options: Option one, continue the silent treatment, let his mistakes speak loudly, and withhold all kinds of conversation,companionship, and connection. Option two, pretend I’m not annoyed. Seduce him, obey him, and make him believe he’s forgiven. Grant his delusion of a happily ever after between us by showing him it’s not only achievable but already achieved.

I ripped out the page from the notebook I’d found in the games room and tore it to shreds.

Nowaycould I kiss him again, suck him, touch him.

God.

I threw the confetti all over the hide of an unfortunate bear skin on the floor. I’d told him the truth a week ago when he’d cornered me in the conservatory. The day I showed any kindness toward him again, a single speck of lust, it wasn’t because I’d thawed and forgiven him, but because I’d chosen option two.

And the endgame of option two?

Simple.

Make him want me past all reason, make him love me beyond all ability, and make him let me go of his own free will. And then...I’m climbing out of here and never, ever coming back.

The only problem was—well, I actually had two problems with option two.

Problem one was, I didn’t think I could physically touch that man without wanting to stab him ninety-nine times with my pointy best friend. I had so much rage inside. So much injustice that I trembled with fury every time I felt him moving around, thanks to the link between us. The feathering around my ankle, the clinking of the chain, all had the power to boil my blood.

I’d managed to go through life completely oblivious to true anger. Sure, I’d had the odd explosion of words, the gossip sessions with girlfriends at school about some moronic teacher or idiot student, and I might have had a few run-ins with my parents and brother—as all people did.

But I’d never stewed in passionate vehemence before.

He’ddone that to me.

He’d turned my happy little heart into one dripping with murderous contempt.

I was lucky, I supposed, that I’d turned to anger instead of self-pity. It was exhausting and maddening, and I wished I could remember how to stop being so damn mad and find calm, but now?

Ooooh, now, I was passed a pep talk and plotting.

My hand curled around my pen, wishing it was Kas’s neck. I honestly couldn’t get rid of the fizzing fury in my blood. I needed to hit him to get it out. I physically needed to mark him so he knew just howangryI was. How betrayed.

And that was the crux of my second problem with option two.

That plan all hinged on betrayal.

If I swallowed the rage inside me—which I didn’t even think was humanly possible at this point—and returned to his bed, I would have tohide this hate inside me. I would have to touch him gently, speak kindly, and do the opposite of everything I felt.

I’d already been nice to him.

I’d already attempted to use decency to win him over.

And look where that got me?

Around and around in circles. A month since I’d arrived.A month!Four long weeks since my family had heard from me. If I chose option two, I would betray not just myself but them too. I would be swallowing every nasty word he deserved and every lesson he needed to hear to be normal.

And...the worst part of option two, I wouldn’t just be betraying a man into believing I wanted him when nothing could be further from the truth, but I’d also run the risk of betraying everything I stood for.

I’d shown my heart was already weak where he was concerned. My body was already confused between passion and resentment.

Could I trust myself?

Can I honestly believe I won’t fall into the same trap and start wanting him in return?

I’d dreamed of him.

I’d dreamed of his tongue in my mouth and his fingers between my legs. I’d dreamed of us rocking together, straining together, coming—