Happily Ever After: A Contemporary Romance Boxed Set

by Piper Rayne

  I couldn’t see her—the sun had set, tilting all the shadows of the tree trunks and the canopy, so a blanket of darkness spread across the forest floor. But dread sparked through my body, and I readied my knife, walking toward the sound of her voice.

  “Rosaline?” I called out. “Where are you?”

  There was a splash. A choking, sputtering noise came out of her, unintelligible noises, and as my boots sank into the flooded banks of the algae-slicked pond, I saw her.

  Arms flailing, her head breaching the surface of the water, and then something tugging her back under.

  “Gawen!” she managed to choke out, and then she sank back into the water—I could just make out her shape, the white of her bare arms, the glow of her hair beneath the surface.

  “Rosaline!” The pond was home to nothing more than weeds and tadpoles, but it was foolish of me to think there would be only one enchantment in the Fair Forest.

  Where one enchantment ended, many more sprung up, just like mushrooms.

  I didn’t know what evil might lurk beneath the surface of that pond.

  All I knew was that something had a hold of Rosaline, and I was not going to let her go without a fight.

  Without thinking, without waiting, without so much as yanking off my boots, I charged into the pond.

  Chapter Five

  Rosaline

  I could see it.

  A small light, amber golden and white.

  My eyes cracked open, and it grew brighter.

  “What are you?” I tried to say, but my words only came out as garbled nonsense.

  Bubbles floated out of my mouth, and I watched them make their way up to the surface—that’s right, I suddenly remembered.

  I was in the pond.

  I was trying to leave the forest, and I’d gotten past the border—rather smugly, I might add, because Gawen had told me I’d turn to dust or something if I made it that far.

  But I’d done it.

  I’d crossed out of the forest and had been ready to run for my village. There were candles aglow in the windows of the blacksmith’s shop. I could almost see my own house—how would it feel to walk through the doors again?

  How would it feel to look at my father after everything, knowing he had allowed Mortas to take me away and tie me to the tree?

  Even though Gawen hadn’t turned out to be a beast at all, I knew the legends had to be false, of course, but I hadn’t been expecting a ruggedly good-looking wild man either, with muscles like an archer and eyes that burned like coal.

  Perhaps if I had stayed longer at Gawen’s hut, I might have gotten to know him. Perhaps I would have dared to ask him all the questions I was dying to ask—what was he doing here, in the middle of the Fair Forest, living alone? Had he been born here? How was he able to talk to the wolves?

  And, perhaps most importantly, what was he thinking about when he looked at me like that? Did he realize that when he flicked his eyes up and down my body, shocked to see a real woman in the flesh in his forest, that he aroused goose pimples on my skin and made me warm, feverish, alive?

  It didn’t matter now.

  None of that mattered.

  Now, I was sinking to the bottom of the pond.

  All I’d done was run around the pond—it was the last barrier until I was out of the Fair Forest’s trees and back in the safety of my village.

  But I’d slipped.

  It had been the eeriest thing—I knew the banks of the pond were flooded because the reeds were bloated and the grass was waterlogged, and so I’d been very careful as I edged my way around the pond.

  The next thing I knew, I was falling sideways into the water.

  Almost like something had grabbed me around the ankle and tugged.

  I’d struggled, fighting my way to the surface, but to no avail.

  Whatever it was in the pond that wanted me? It had pulled me under.

  It had won.

  And now I was floating, suspended, weightless. My hair spiraled all around me, my eyes opening in the green water, and all was dark—

  Except for that light.

  One light, shining above, like the sun—but it was night in the forest.

  “What are you?” I tried to ask again, but no sound came out. Water flooded my mouth, and instead of sputtering it out, my lungs just… accepted it.

  I felt peaceful. Light.

  I let the water take me down, further down, spinning, all green, all golden glow, all peace, all the time—

  And then I heard the answer, not just with my ears, but with my mind: “Home.”

  Home, I wanted to retort, no. No, of course not. Home was Fairfront, the village where I’d been born and raised.

  Home was the farm where I’d been brought up. Home was where my mother had lived and died. Home was where she had been buried.

  But… no. I had no home.

  Not anymore.

  My home had been lost to me when my father handed me over to Mortas and his men. I had no home.

  And so, I thought with a weak chuckle, light-headed, dizzy, this pond was as good a home as any—

  Something grabbed me around my wrist.

  Another hand, a human.

  Whoever it was pulled.

  I broke the surface of the pond, sputtering, water draining out of my nose and mouth like a faucet. It tasted slimy, and as I spat out little bits of moss and algae, I was pulled onto the banks, laying back in the weeds.

  “Rosaline,” a deep voice said, “can you hear me?”

  Of course, I thought—but I couldn’t say it out loud. Something was still keeping my tongue from moving, almost like I was under a spell of some sort.

  “Rosaline.” That same hand that had tugged me out of the water by the wrist now stroked my face, rolling me from my side onto my back, trying to get me to look at him—

  It was Gawen.

  His face came into my view, and I studied his features, marveling at how perfect they were, even beneath his full bushy beard and scraggly hair.

  “Rosaline,” he said again, and I giggled—I couldn’t help it. His voice saying my name was almost too much to handle. “Rosaline, are you all right?”

  “I’m wonderful.” My teeth were chattering now, but I still felt hazy and peaceful—soon I would be back home, something within me said. Soon I would be where I belonged.

  Gawen put the back of his hand against my nose. “You’re freezing,” he assessed, then lifted me up in his strong arms. “Come on. We need to get you warm.” He tried to steady me on my feet, but my legs were trembling too hard to stand; I collapsed into him, and he held me up, his face inches away from mine.

  “That’s one idea,” I purred, and before he could say anything else, I leaned into him, my lips finding his.

  His mouth was much softer than I expected, and I floated further away, somewhere above the forest, in the clouds. I’d never kissed a man before, and yet it felt so right, so perfectly instinctive.

  His breathing changed—a rumble in his chest made me go slick. I opened my mouth slightly, my tongue finding his, and he tilted his head, letting me explore his lips, tasting him, my knees growing stronger with every second that we were latched together this way—

  Gawen was the one to pull away. “You’re freezing,” he repeated, “and we need to warm you up.”

  “Isn’t that what we were doing?” I tried again to lean in for another kiss, but this time my head spun.

  I was suddenly exhausted. The forest was so dark—the nightjars were singing, crickets were chirping, and when I peered over Gawen’s shoulder, the lights in the windows of the village were gone.

  Lights.

  The light in the pond.

  “I’m tired,” I told Gawen with a loud yawn. “I’m just going to shut my eyes for a moment.” My teeth had stopped chattering, and my legs had stopped shaking. I went limp in his arms, and concern knitted his strong eyebrows.

  “No, Rosaline.” He reached his warm hand up to my cheek again. “You can’t g
o to sleep. Not yet.”

  “I’m tired,” I whispered, “and I’m cold.” I let my head droop against his chest, and he lifted me up in his arms as if I didn’t weigh anything at all.

  “Rosaline,” he huffed as he charged away from the pond and into the thicket and the trees. “Rosaline, stay with me. Stay awake.”

  Gawen was the one to lean down and kiss me this time. His hand wrapped around behind my wet hair, cradling my head, and his mouth clamped onto mine with a fierceness that sent waves of desire through my body.

  But it was too late.

  I was too tired, too light-headed, too … too…

  The last thing I saw as I tilted my head back and closed my eyes, searching for slumber, was that brilliant white light, up in the trees.

  Home.

  But I had no home.

  Not anymore.

  Chapter Six

  Gawen

  She was freezing.

  I had to warm her up.

  “Rosaline, stay with me!” I kept barking as I rushed her through the trees, back to my hut. Above us, a full, round moon peered down on the Fair Forest like a great unblinking eye; I too was chilled from my dip into the pond, but my worry over Rosaline’s health manifested in a heat that dried the algae-soaked water off me as I hurried.

  She made a moaning sound in my arms. I glanced down at her—her eyes were gently closed, her head tipped back, and she looked so peacefully calm. I knew we didn’t have much time.

  Hypothermia set in fast, and as soon as the teeth stopped chattering it was almost too late.

  I couldn’t believe it. She had made it through the periphery without the spell tearing her into little pieces. I’d never heard of such a miracle. Racking my brain for any sort of loophole in the enchantment that I’d forgotten about, I wondered if Rosaline understood just what she had accomplished.

  “Hold on,” I told her, nuzzling my chin against her icy forehead. “We’re almost there.” She pressed into me, and my body remembered the fear at seeing her fall into the pond, her arms violently windmilling and then flailing in the water. I remembered seeing her head go under and not surface again.

  It had been a guttural, visceral response. Rosaline needed help, and so I rushed to her side.

  I had forgotten all about her stubborn foolishness in that moment, and I hadn’t thought about it again until she’d kissed me.

  Kissed me.

  I shuddered now at the memory—it was only minutes ago, on the other side of the forest, but it already felt like it had been too long since I’d touched my lips to hers.

  The taste of her mouth, the soft slipperiness of her tongue, the feel of her breasts pressing against my chest, her hips jutting into mine, pressing for more and more…

  There. The hut. We reached it just in time. My shuddering was about to turn into full-body chills at the thought of what might have happened next, had Rosaline not been close to freezing to death, and I needed to focus.

  Needed to bring her back from the brink.

  I pushed through the door of my hut, not bothering to stop and light the oil lamp on the table; the moonlight, seeming to understand my rush, cooperated by shining through the windows and the open door.

  I lay Rosaline on my bed. “Here we go,” I muttered, “let’s get you wrapped up in—where’s my blanket?”

  Rosaline turned her head and murmured sleepily, “Took it for a cloak. Left it in the pond.”

  “Stole it,” I corrected. “You stole my blanket.” But I didn’t have time to lecture her. I had to get her warm.

  I assessed the situation. A fire in the hearth wouldn’t be fast enough. Not on its own. And it would take too long to warm up stew or broth or even tea.

  No, I would have to do something else entirely.

  “Rosaline,” I said softly, “I’m going to warm you up. But first you need to get out of that wet dress. Do you understand? Can you get it off yourself?”

  Rosaline tried to lift an arm, but instead she rolled over and snuggled against my pillow, letting out a dreamy sigh. “You do it.”

  Me. She wanted me to undress her. I swallowed, attempting to stay clear-minded as I pulled the strap down one of her shoulders.

  The dress peeled away from her body willingly, and as I took one of her arms out of its sleeve, her right breast fell out, a soft mound with a pebbled nipple that made me instantly grow hard.

  Oh, gods, but she was so beautiful. Even when she was nearly undone by hypothermia and soaked in pond scum, she was lovelier than a painting. I pulled her dress off her other arm, and her other breast tumbled out, the two of them set high on her chest, so alluring, so tempting.

  An instinct rose in me—I wanted to touch them, to handle them roughly, to watch them move and bounce. I wanted to take them in my mouth, flick my tongue over the nipples, watch her gasp in delight. I didn’t know why, but I had the notion that Rosaline might find some pleasure in my mouth on her nipples, as well.

  “Gawen?” Rosaline intoned, and then she shifted slightly, bunching up the pillow beneath her as she spoke. “Are you still there?”

  Focus, I told myself. Focus. Save her first. And then…

  “Yes,” I said. “I’m here. Stay awake.”

  And then what? I hooked my thumbs around the waist of her dress, preparing to pull it the rest of the way down, and gave myself a stern chiding. What exactly do you think will happen?

  She was ready to risk the periphery spell just to get away from you—she would rather spend the rest of her life at home in Fairfront than stay here with—

  I sucked in a breath of air, filling my lungs, trying to keep my center.

  I’d pulled her dress all the way off, and the sight of her gorgeous body, the spread of her hips, the tuft of hair, her shimmering slit…

  My blood went hot. I wanted to get between her thighs. I wanted to lick her there. I wanted to push my length inside of her, feel her body tight around mine.

  “Are you going to keep warming me up, or eat me?” Rosaline’s words were sharper now, and when I glanced up at her face, she was more awake, more alert. Her eyes were mineral green, reflecting the moon’s glow from the window and making her look almost animalistic.

  The mere act of removing her wet dress and setting her down on my bed had brought her back from the edge, but she was shivering again. She wrapped her arms around herself, and I couldn’t tell if she was trying to stop her shaking or attempting to hide her naked self from my eyes, but her vindictive tone yanked me out of my lust.

  “Were you actively trying to kill yourself rather than stay in the Fair Forest with me, or was drowning just a happy accident?” I slipped off my boots and lifted up my tunic; the night’s chill hit my skin, which erupted into goose pimples and made my own nipples grow erect.

  I couldn’t miss the way Rosaline looked at my body, inspecting my torso, my muscled shoulders, my chest, her own body still shaking with cold. Perhaps it should have made me feel self-conscious, to be stared at by a woman like this, but her eyes felt welcome on me. I wanted to return the gaze and stare at her own naked form again, but instead I unbuckled my pants.

  “Listen,” I told her firmly, “you’re not out of danger. Not yet. See how you’re shaking? You need to get warm right away.” Nerves prickling in my stomach, I inhaled. “Through body heat.”

  Rosaline glared at me, realizing what I was insisting that we do, but she did peer down at the bulge of my cock, still hard, pressing out of my pants. “All right,” she grumbled, her teeth chattering. She turned around to face the wall, giving me privacy, and I caught a glimpse of her glorious backside, rounded like a peach, delicious enough to bite into.

  Gods, what was becoming of me? One day with Rosaline, and I was turning into a ravenous beast, ready to devour her.

  I dropped my pants and, taking one of my many furs from a basket beneath my bed, which I kept there for extra cold winter nights, lay beside her, spreading the fur above us.

  She trembled in my arms, but I pulled her
closer, her flesh still icy against mine.

  “It’s like curling up with a snake,” I muttered, lining my chest up with her arched back, my arms wrapping around hers.

  Rosaline snorted. “Well, for me it’s like curling up with a sword in its scabbard stabbing into my behind. What is that—oh.”

  I felt her exhale as she realized my hardened prick was pressed against her, and perhaps I should have been embarrassed, but it only brought attention to how desperate I was to plunge into her, how much I wanted her to touch it.

  “Sorry,” I told her, clearing my throat. “It’s an unfortunate … just a reaction—”

  “Fine.” Rosaline shuddered once more. “It’s fine.” Her entire form snuggled into me, and her teeth stopped chattering. “By the way,” she added after a moment, “I wasn’t trying to run away from you. I just wanted to get back to Fairfront.”

  Her breathing steadied, and I repositioned my arm around her middle, her breasts settling near my hand. “I understand,” I told her. “You wanted to go home.”

  “Home.” Rosaline chuckled darkly. “I’m not sure I have a home. Not anymore. Not a single person put up a fight when Mortas suggested they tie me to a tree in the forest. Not even my own father. It’s almost as if…” She trailed off, then shook her head. “Never mind.”

  “Almost as if what?” Her hair was drying in clumps right near my face, but beneath the smell of the pond water I could pick up her flowery scent. Like a rose garden, like fresh air. Like nothing I had ever smelled before.

  Rosaline paused, almost like she was considering whether or not to share this with me. “Almost like… I belong here. I know it sounds wild, but I didn’t fall into that pond. I think … something pulled me in.”

  Where one enchantment was, many more might spring up. Magic was never a logical, rational thing, but it did have a few principles that were almost always true. “Could be,” I mused. “There are many strange things here in the Fair Forest, things that even I don’t fully comprehend.”

  “When I was under the water,” Rosaline went on, “I wasn’t … afraid. I felt warm, welcome. And I saw a light, a golden light. It told me that I was supposed to be here in the forest. It told me I was home.” She angled her face upward, glancing sideways at me. “What do you think it means?”