Page 48 of Not Another Happily Ever After

One.

Two— Wow. Impressive.He shortens his stride to keep pace with mine, allowing the stifling silence to take root before finally answering.

“Your heart…” He pauses, throat bobbing around the words not yet spoken. I have to remind myself to breathe to keep my pulse from hammering in my ears.

“My heart?” I repeat, twisting my fingers together.

His heated gaze flickers toward mine, but then he blinks and the warmth is gone. “It’s safe with us.”

My eyes drop toward the path that’s been swallowed by decay, a once magical realm that’s been lost to time.

“Of course.” I smile, but the gesture feels foreign on my lips.

Though, I can’t reason why.

There is nothing natural about the way this man makes me feel. Surely, most women would be appalled to hear they frighten the realm’s most deadly hand. Yet, here I am, finding myself…attracted?Oh, God. Is that what this is?Am I attracted to the knight tasked with delivering my heart to the prince?

I peer up at Frog’s tall form, studying how he walks with all the assurance his eyes seem to lack. The way his muscles flex beneath his tunic, his long calloused fingers never straying far from his blade and?—

Yes. I am smitten.

I swallow, smoothing my hands over my dress to wipe the sweat collecting in my palms, when I feel something hard and round in my cloak pocket. I fish it out and find the apple given to me by the children.

This is exactly the distraction I need,I think as I bring the red fruity flesh to my lips.

“I wouldn’t,” Frog grabs the apple from my hand, chucking the glossy red fruit deep into the gnarled rows of trees.

I can only stare after what was going to be my breakfast. “I’ll have you know that was meant to be a gift. Given to me by some very special friends.”

Frog cuts his eyes to mine, a flicker of amusement dancing in their depths. “Your friends gifted you a rotten apple.”

“They what?” I gasp, when the understanding hits me.

I smile. “Right, well. You should be so lucky to have friends like mine.”

Frog chuckles, a deep resonant sound that’s only amplified by the mask. “You trust too easily.”

My mouth opens in protest, in the hopes of hearing him laugh again, when we step around the bend and my ability to speak abandons me entirely.

Frog stops between two blue-vined willows, pushing their limp limbs to the side, making room for me to move past him and into the picturesque scene.

The last of the Ruinous mountains tapers to its end, feeding three small waterfalls off its rocky ledge. Its murky runoff pours into what used to be a crystalline plunge pool.

I breathe it all in. Ignoring the musty smell that plumes with each step as I close my eyes and picture what it might have been like to see the shimmering glow of magic reflected off the water’s surface. “I read about this place in Father’s journals. How the water used to sparkle beneath the sunlight,” I pause, nearlylosing my slipper to the mud that now resides where fluffy green moss used to be.

It’s with a heavy sigh I pull the stained satin free. “There were these floating white flowers. They were said to hold?—”

“Secrets.” The moonlight ripples in Frog’s eyes. I have to tear my gaze away to keep from falling into them.

“You know the story?” I ask instead, easing my arm from his hold.

He clears his throat, putting space between us as his fingers curl and unfurl at his side. “A version of it.” He nods.

My brows knit. “There is only one version.”

Frog turns away from the water’s edge, toward the trees that form a semi-circle at our backs, his expression unreadable.

When he says nothing more, I continue. “The singing falls were named after the Siren sisters that lived beneath them. These flowers were their gift to man. A place where he could confess his heart’s deepest desires in exchange for a song. If the Sirens enjoyed his confession, the flower would close. Only to open again when the hand of the secret’s intended touched its petals.”