Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25724 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25724 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
I tear into the fish, chewing slowly, eyes fixed on the glowing window. Something about it is familiar. Not the tower itself, but the sense of isolation. The loneliness of the person who lives there is almost palpable.
I shake my head, cursing my fanciful thoughts.
A twig snaps behind me, and I freeze. I slide my hand toward the spear, listening intently.
Nothing. Just the rush of the river and the crackle of the fire.
Once I’ve eaten, I toss the fish bones into the flames, rinse my hands in the river, and scrape together a bed of leaves. Crude, but dry, and better than brambles.
The light across the river blinks out.
Did they see my fire? Wouldn’t they come to investigate if they had? Or maybe it is a witch. One of the reclusive witches who guards her territory with magic. Best I keep my distance. I don’t need to get hexed.
I lie back, hands behind my head, watching the black web of branches overhead. The quiet settles like a weight on my chest. I craved noise when I was incarcerated. Chaos. Ale-soaked nights. A return to my old life. But that life—and all the bad choices that came with it—led straight to that cell. Maybe it’s time I stopped running toward the past and started thinking about the future—whatever that looks like now.
I’m almost asleep when I hear it.
Singing.
Soft. Clear. Unmistakably female. Notes spill into the night like raindrops on glass, weaving through the trees.
My breath catches. I sit up so fast that my head spins for a second. That voice…
It slides under my skin, settling into places I didn’t know were empty. Calms something wild in me. Am I dreaming? Probably. But it doesn’t feel like a dream. The song makes something inside me ache with loneliness and something else. Purpose. Destiny.
I scrub a hand over my face, cursing my vivid imagination. This place, combined with my hunger and lack of sleep, is messing with my head.
But the heartfelt melody curls around my heart like a vine and pulls. I stand. The river should be a problem. It isn’t. The current shoulders me sideways, and a neat line of stones appears where there wasn’t one. A low branch dips to catch my balance. When I push through the undergrowth, the brambles that spent all day skinning me… part. Roots that kept tripping me flatten into steps. The ground firms. The path clears.
I’m not just following a song.
I’m being guided.
Reaching the base of the tower, I duck behind a tree. Peering up, I spot her—a woman sitting in the window.
Golden hair that glows like starlight. Skin pale and smooth. Full lips. Curves that make my mouth go dry. Soft, round, and perfect.
Not a fragile damsel. Not to me.
My throat tightens. I take a step closer, heart pounding. She sings as if she’s made peace with the solitude. As if she belongs here. Her voice soothes something raw inside me.
My body responds before I can stop it. Heat pools low in my belly. My cock throbs. I shift, muttering a curse. Gods, it’s been so long since I felt anything like this. Now isn’t the time to take care of it.
I should look away. I should move on. But I don’t.
I’m about to step closer when the shadows move.
Something slithers around my ankles—a vine. Before I can react, I’m yanked off my feet with a grunt, the air knocked clean from my lungs as I hit the ground. My head cracks against the hard earth, and my vision swims. I scramble for purchase, but whatever has me is dragging me across the dirt.
Toward the tower.
Maybe this forest is hungry.
And it’s not done with me yet.
Chapter 3
Rapunzel
It’s usually quiet in the tower at night. Not peaceful-quiet, like in the books I read with cozy libraries or sleepy cottages. No, this quiet hums with something else—something unnatural. During the day, the forest below hums with life—birds darting between trees, squirrels chittering, strange little creatures singing their nonsense songs. Sometimes, the braver animals venture close to the tower’s base, noses twitching, eyes bright with curiosity. But never too close. It’s as if an invisible boundary holds them back, like they know something about this place—something dark and old and not meant to be touched.
At night, even they disappear. The hush falls heavy, and the silence presses against my ears, too loud to ignore.
So I sing to fill the void. Melodies I make up as I go. Songs I’ve never learned yet seem to recall from memories I know don’t belong to me. Anything to remind myself that I still exist and there is a world beyond this tower. Singing fills me with… contentment. And the roots tangled in my hair seem to like it too. They stretch and sigh like a cat basking in a patch of sunshine. They seem less like chains keeping me captive and more like friends in those moments.