Page 5

REN

W hen I wake up, my gaze travels over the room. The faint light of dawn filters in through the window, covering Rapunzel in a golden glow as she lies sleeping on the sofa, across the way.

Her hair drapes over the side of the couch, and I wonder again at its surprising length. Although it’s braided, there is so much of it I can only imagine how much longer it would be if she left it unbound.

With my arms and legs still restrained, she believes I cannot escape. I could easily free myself by either using my claws or shifting to my fox form, but the last thing I want is for her to be afraid.

No. I will remain this way for as long as it takes for her to feel safe with me.

Trust is a fragile thing. After our conversation last night, I get the impression that if I push too hard, or say the wrong thing about Glinda, it will only cause her to pull away from me.

And I cannot afford that. Especially if I hope to have any chance of convincing her to leave with me and eventually become my mate.

When she explained why she’s here and about Glinda, a sense of dread settled deep in my gut. I don’t trust her Glinda or the explanation she’s given my fated one about why she’s in this tower. Rapunzel’s story has too many cracks. It doesn’t make sense.

I grit my fangs, staring into the fire as it crackles low in the hearth.

Why would the witch steal her memories? Why would Drusilla not simply kill her to regain her power? And why would Glinda insist upon keeping Rapunzel here in the tower? What would be the point of keeping my fated one locked away unless—

Unless the real danger is Glinda instead of the Goblin witch—Drusilla.

Rapunzel yawns and stretches, ripping me back from my dark thoughts. She glances around the room. As soon as her gaze lands upon me, she stills, probably having temporarily forgotten the events of last evening as she shakes off the fog of sleep.

I offer my best smile. “Good morning.”

“Good… morning,” she replies a bit hesitantly. She rises from the sofa and heads toward the kitchen area.

“Did you sleep well?”

“I—yes.” She darts a glance at me and then looks away.

“If you let me go, I can help you make breakfast.” I flash what I hope is a winning grin. “It’s the least I can do to thank you for allowing me to stay here last night.”

Her head snaps to me, and she frowns as if considering. “All right,” she finally says. “But if you try anything, I’ll use my magic to bind you again.”

She raises her hands to presumably use her magic, but I extend my claws and slice the bindings on my wrists before freeing my ankles. When I look up, I find her gaping at me.