Fantastical f-3 Read online

  “No!”

  “Then no.”

  Ugh!

  “Move away,” I demanded, my hands going to his wrists and pushing.

  “No, now that I’ve put up with this rubbish, you earn your food and clothes and, I’m warning you, now I’m hungrier than I was before so I’ll not tolerate anymore of this absurdity.”

  “I’m not being absurd!” My voice was rising. “I’m telling you the truth!”

  He kept my gaze even as he shook his head. “Make no mistake, Cora, I’ll eat in front of you and you’ll wear that nightgown until it falls off, if it comes to that.”

  “Fine!” I snapped. “Great!” I fairly shouted. “Do what you will. I’ll not earn one more thing from you!”

  He nodded his head once, muttered, “Your choice,” let me go and moved away.

  And that, apparently, was that.

  Jerk!

  I stood against the stone, realized I was breathing heavily and watched him go.

  Well, that didn’t work.

  “You know what?” I asked him as he crouched by one of the sacks and started pulling stuff out. He turned his head to me and I kept going. “When your Cora comes back, and I hope to God she does, not only so I can go home but also so I can get away from you, you’re going to feel just like the asshole, jerk, scumbag you are!”

  He looked back into the sack, mumbling, “I’ll take that chance.”

  Argh!

  Chapter Seven

  Only Stupid People Get Bored

  I woke the next morning half on and totally wrapped around Noctorno again.

  Great. Just great.

  Why couldn’t my unconscious self hate him as much as my conscious self, I ask you?

  I rolled away, landing on my back and he rolled with me, landing mostly on my body.

  Fabulous.

  I opened my eyes and looked into his.

  Jeez, it totally sucked he was so freaking gorgeous.

  “Good morning, love,” he murmured.

  I glared at him thinking there was not one damned thing good about it. First, I had a headache. Second, I was starving. Third, I needed a bath, with soap. Fourth, I was sick and damned tired of wearing this nightgown. Fifth, I was tired and damned sick of this cave. Sixth, I had to go to the bathroom and that meant he had to go with me which was humiliating. Seventh, he was there and I hated him no matter how gorgeous he was. And last, I was still not home.

  Needless to say, yesterday did not go well. He took me to answer nature’s call twice more and when I was back in the cave he left (taking the jugs and sacks with him, the king of all ultimate jerks) and came back after filling the one with water which he informed me I could partake of at will. This was good for I could dehydrate faster than starve but it was bad because drinking water made nature call.

  Other than that, he spent most of the day somewhere else (but close, I could hear him doing such things as murmuring to his horse, chopping wood and what I guessed was sharpening weapons) and I spent most of the day alone, getting hungrier and hungrier by the minute, bored out of my skull at the same time scared beyond reason.

  I wanted to go home.

  “I need coffee,” I informed him because I did. I knew my headache wasn’t because I was hungry. I knew it was because my system desperately needed caffeine.

  “Coffee sounds good,” he whispered, his eyes moving to my mouth.

  Oh God. Here we go.

  All right.

  Whatever!

  “Okay, fine,” I snapped. “What do I have to do for a cup of coffee?”

  His eyes moved back to mine and they were smiling. “Why don’t you do what you think a cup of coffee is worth and, when you’re done, I’ll tell you if you’ve earned it.”

  I glared at him a second, willing my eyes to annihilate him.

  This didn’t happen so I spat, “I hate you.”

  The smile didn’t fade from his eyes when he replied, “I don’t care.”

  What…

  Eh…

  Ver!

  Oh well. Fuck it. A girl like me would do a lot for caffeine and seeing as I was a girl like me, there it was.

  Both my hands went to either side of his face, my foot went into the hides, I pushed off, rolling into him, taking him to his back with me on top and I kissed him, hard, open-mouthed, wet, long and hot.

  God, oh God, oh God but I wished he didn’t taste so fucking good.

  When I was done, one of his arms was locked under my shoulder blades the other one was locked tight around my waist.

  I lifted my head and said (unfortunately breathlessly, so good was that kiss), “Does that earn me coffee?”

  “Sweets,” he murmured, his rough voice rougher, his sexy eyes sexier and his arm moving from under my shoulder blades so that his fingers could slide up the back of my neck into my hair, “that was so bloody magnificent, you get coffee and porridge.”

  Yippee!

  His arm around my waist moved so his hand cupped my ass and his head lifted so his face was in my neck.

  “Fancy earning clothes?” he asked against my skin.

  I shivered. His hand was so big, so warm, his grip so firm and his voice rumbling against my skin so hot my first shiver was followed by a full on tremble.

  Not to mention, I wanted out, out, out of this nightgown.

  Shit.

  “What do I have to do for clothes and a bath with soap?” I asked cautiously.

  His head went back to the hides and his eyes caught mine.

  “I have soap,” he told me.

  I felt my eyes grow wide. “You do?”

  He nodded.

  “Really?” I breathed.

  He grinned. “Yes, Cora.”

  Oh man. He had soap. And I wanted to be clean from top-to-toe. I wanted it bad.

  Shit!

  I studied him as he patiently waited, his hands still warm on me.

  Hmm.

  “What do I have to do to get you not to be a jerk to me all day, from now to bedtime?” I asked.

  His eyes warmed and let me tell you, they looked nice warm. So nice, my belly felt like keeping them company so it did, getting warm too. Way warm.

  “That’ll take some work,” he whispered.

  “If I, uh… do all the work now, will you, um… be nice all day?”

  His hand at my ass squeezed. “You earn it, you’ll get it.”

  I licked my lips.

  Was I going to do this?

  Shit.

  Shit!

  Shit!

  I looked into his eyes, felt his hard body beneath mine then turned my face away, clenching my jaw and closing my eyes hard.

  No. No I wasn’t going to do this.

  No way.

  He thought I was Cora of this world but I couldn’t lose my hold on the fact that I was not. I didn’t deserve this even though he genuinely and with reason believed I did.

  I would not whore myself for soap and clothes and another human being nice to me.

  I would not.

  I turned back to him and whispered, “I think I’ll make do with coffee and porridge.”

  Once I was finished speaking, I looked away and tried to slide off but his arms wrapped around me again, holding me where I was.

  “Cora,” he called but I stared at the hides to our sides.

  “What?”

  “Look at me.”

  “Just tell me what.”

  “Look at me,” he repeated on an arm squeeze.

  I looked at him and he had that blank look on his face with his eyes active again.

  “I’ll say this once and counsel you to take it to heart. You can play your game but you don’t play me in mine.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “Do not tease me.”

  Oh hell.

  “I wasn’t –”

  “No excuses, no lies, just take that to heart. Am I understood?”

  God, I couldn’t win for losing.

  “Understood,” I whispered.


  His arms loosened and I rolled away.

  He rolled out of the hides.

  I watched him walk to the table and thought, I hate, hate, hate this fucking world and I hate, hate, hate Noctorno Whoever-he-is.

  And I hate, hate, hated them both so much, I felt the tears spring to my eyes, I rolled to face the wall and prayed I didn’t make any noise with my crying as I listened to him stoking the fire.

  Luckily, my prayer was answered.

  * * *

  “What are you doing?”

  Noctorno was speaking from behind me.

  I was at the mouth of the cave, the day had a hint of watery sunshine which was an improvement but nothing like the brilliant beauty of the fairytale world I woke up in two days ago and shattered because I inadvertently caused a curse to fall on the land.

  I was also shaking out the bed hides.

  “Cleaning,” I answered, not turning to him and continuing awkwardly to shake the heavy, huge hide.

  “Cleaning,” he repeated after me.

  “Yep,” I said, giving up on shaking and I decided to start beating it with my fist.

  That worked. Dust flew out everywhere.

  Brilliant.

  “Why?” he asked.

  “Why?” I asked back.

  “Yes, why?”

  “Because you’re tidy with your bone remains but the rest of the place is filthy.”

  “Cora, it’s a cave.”

  That made me turn to him.

  “I know it’s a cave, Tor.”

  I watched his mouth get tight.

  Oh Lordy. For some reason, he was getting angry.

  Jeez, with him it didn’t take much and this time I didn’t even know what I did. I could hardly be pissing him off by cleaning, could I?

  Oh well, let him get angry. I was getting used to it.

  I went back to beating.

  I heard a clomp, clomp, clomp and then I felt the velvet of Salem’s nose against my neck right before he blew.

  It tickled so much, I giggled, dropped the hide and turned to him. His head jerked back and I lifted my hands to his nose and held gently.

  “It’s okay, boy,” I cooed.

  He snorted again.

  “That’s it.” I kept cooing and started to stroke his muzzle.

  He clomped a half a horse step closer.

  “That’s it, you beautiful beast,” I whispered, still stroking.

  He snorted his contentment.

  I smiled at him.

  “Salem!” Noctorno barked, Salem pulled his nose from my hands and looked down his massive body as my head turned to see the big guy standing, arms crossed on his chest, openly pissed. “Move away from, Cora,” he ordered his mount.

  Salem whinnied.

  “Now, horse,” Noctorno growled.

  Salem blew breath through his horse lips and clomped away.

  I glared at Noctorno. “Why’d you do that?”

  “Do not think, woman, you can come between a man and his horse,” Noctorno informed me.

  “I wasn’t trying to,” I informed him right back and I wasn’t!

  “Right,” he muttered.

  “Jeez!” I cried, throwing up my hands. “What is with you?”

  “I warned you not to play me for a fool.”

  “Good God, man, I was just petting your horse!” I pointed out.

  “You were playing your games,” he returned.

  “You know,” I started, “this is getting old. The Cora of your world must be a huge freaking ass bitch to make you think she’d use your fucking horse against you.”

  “There is nothing I’d put passed you,” he replied.

  “Well, again, big guy, I am not her and I’m getting sick of you treating me like her.”

  “Then we share something because I’m getting sick of you pretending you aren’t her.”

  I continued glaring at him and he withstood it.

  Then I swung back to the hide, hefted it up and started beating at it again, hard, all the while muttering to myself, “I lived a good life. I was nice. If I saw someone drop a dollar, I’d pick it up and give it to them. If a beggar looked like a real, genuine, honest to God beggar, I’d give them change. If strangers walked by me and caught my eye, I’d smile and say hello. If my friends did stupid shit with guys, I kept my mouth shut and then let them cry on my shoulder when that stupid shit bit them in the ass at the same time I kept the mojitos flowing. Okay, so I didn’t tell on Jenny Linklater when I saw her cheating on that test in sixth grade but I didn’t cheat. I’ve never cheated. I’ve never done anything wrong enough to land me in this crazy, freaking world with a lunatic hot guy. What did I do to deserve this?”

  Salem whinnied and I didn’t know what that meant.

  I looked at him. “I don’t know what you mean but the way you said it, I agree.”

  He jerked his snout up.

  “Damn straight,” I muttered, gathered the hide to me and stomped through the loose stone back to the opening under the eyes of a glowering Noctorno and I did it only wincing a little at how much the stone hurt my feet.

  When I got to my destination, I slapped the hides open and then for good measure I slapped them shut behind me thinking stupidly, Take that, asshole.

  He wouldn’t care if I slapped the hide closed but it made me feel better.

  * * *

  Hours later, the hides opened and Noctorno strode in.

  I looked up from my sweeping and gave him a good glare.

  Then I kept right on sweeping.

  “Gods, what the bloody hell?” he muttered irately.

  I ignored him and limped through my sweeping.

  “Cora,” he called.

  I kept limping through my sweeping, seeing, belatedly, the error of my ways as I went about my business of the day.

  I had, very stupidly, gathered all the bones in the dirty bowl, carried them to the mouth of the cave and tossed them as far away as I could throw them. I had also beat out the sheepskins as well as the cowhide. I had also trudged (again) through the sharp stone of the main cave, back and forth (four times), to replenish the wood supply. This meant my feet were raw on the bottoms but I was not, not, not going to be bored out of my mind like yesterday nor give myself the headspace to fret about my calamitous circumstances.

  No I was not.

  I didn’t have any lemons to make lemonade but I was going to damn well do what I could with no lemons and no nothing.

  So, when I saw the dried grass was filled with dead insects (ick), yes, you guessed it, I trudged right back through the cave (knowing big guy and his sweet horse watched me) back and forth, back and forth, yanking fresh, long blades of grass that grew close to the mouth of the cave and piling them up outside the antechamber we slept in. Then I inspected the entirety of the cave and its cave chambers, found a long stick and enough pieces of twig to build my own freaking broom, which I did, braiding the bristles at the top with a blade of grass and attaching it to the stick with more blades (this, by the way, was tedious and took a long time but, by God, I did it) and now I was sweeping out the old, dry, dead insect-ridden grass (as well as whatever else my admittedly not very great broom could pick up) even though my feet were killing me.

  “Cora,” he repeated when I didn’t answer.

  “Right here,” I replied.

  “Stop.”

  “No, I’m almost done.”

  “I said, stop.”

  “No,” I kept sweeping the big pile toward the pelt curtain, “just a bit –” The broom was suddenly yanked clean out of my hands and my head snapped up to see Noctorno had it. “What are you –? Oof!”

  Clatter went the broom as up I went on his shoulder again.

  “Put me down!” I beat at his back with my fists.

  He did, dropping me on the hides I’d bunched up in the corner to get them away from my sweeping. I barely got my body under control when his strong fingers closed around my ankle and he yanked it up.

  “Hey!” I yelled as he be
nt low and to the side to inspect the bottom of my foot.

  “Bloody... damned… hell!” he roared and I jerked my ankle from his hold partly because I didn’t want my ankle in his hold and partly in a reaction to his scary roar.

  “What –?” I started but stopped when he planted his hands at his hips and scowled at me so ferociously my breath caught.

  Okay, now he wasn’t just pissed, he was pissed.

  “You’ve scraped the soles of your feet straight to hell,” he gritted at me.

  “I’m perfectly fine.”

  “Your feet are scraped to hell,” he semi-repeated.

  “Noctorno, I’m fine.”

  “What, by the gods, were you bloody thinking?” he demanded to know.

  “I was cleaning.”

  “Yes, love, you were cleaning a cave which,” he leaned into me, “by all that is natural, is dirty.”

  “But we’re living here!” I sat up to lean into him. “So, being humans and with opposable thumbs and the ability to cogitate, means we can better our surroundings so I’m doing that.”

  “And injuring yourself in the ridiculous process,” he shot back.

  I felt my eyes narrow. “It isn’t ridiculous. There are dead bugs in the grass under the bed we sleep in! That is pure ick!” I shouted.

  “If you weren’t so bloody stubborn, you need clean rushes, you’d bloody well kiss me and I’d give you some bloody shoes!” he shouted back.

  “I don’t want to bloody kiss you!” I yelled.

  “Then you should have sat on your arse and kept your feet healthy and clean!” he returned on his own yell.

  “I did that yesterday and I can’t do it again. It’s boring and my mother told me only stupid people get bored and I’m… not… stupid,” I fired back.

  He leaned back and his brows knitted. “Your mother told you that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Your mother didn’t tell you that,” he declared bizarrely decisively.

  “Yes, Tor, she did.”

  “She did not.”

  “Yes! She did!”

  “Bloody hell, woman, she’s sweet as syrup and wouldn’t harm a fly but Dara Goode isn’t smart enough to think something like that much less enunciate it.”

  I scrambled to my feet, planted my hands at my own hips and snapped, “Are you calling my mother stupid?”

  “Gods, Cora, she’s beloved but she’s not bright. It’s not nice but it’s well-known. Even you told me she’s dull as a post,” he retorted.