Ogre Daddy (Fantastical Daddy Doms Book 2)

by Allysa Hart

  Once inside, I stopped to catch my breath and listen. The sound of a whip in the air flung me into action once again, I raced down a long corridor and up one flight of stairs and then another. With my long legs, I was halfway up the second flight of stairs when the next scream sounded, primal and shrill. It broke through the night air, breaking my heart with it. I was getting closer.

  I hated to listen, but I had to follow the noise and let it guide me. A fourth flight of stairs, and I knew I was in the right place. I don’t really remember flying down the hall, or how I knew where to go. I only remember what I saw when I flung the wooden door open wide. The scene will be forever etched in my nightmares.

  Ariana was hunched over, her gown lifted and flung upwards to uncover her back. A pretty wooden box with an engraved top and a silver lock lay open in front of her, upside down and though I could see what appeared to be the very napkin I’d wrapped the coffee-cake in, there was no evidence of the treat. A leather-book etched with dolphins on the front lay on the bed.

  The witch, in her queenly form, stood over her with a thick whip, shrieking intermittently about loyalty. Her words were rushed and garbled, the ramblings of a delusional psychopath, but I knew Ariana believed them. That was the nature of abuse.

  I froze in horror at the wicked words falling from the witch’s mouth. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, but when she pulled the whip back to strike again, I caught its tail with my bare hand, lifting it into the air and the witch with it.

  “You!” she screamed when she saw me.

  “Still your worst nightmare,” I confirmed with a smirk, watching smugly as her eyes widened at the sound of my voice. “That’s right, I’m no longer mute. Your spells are breaking, and your power is waning. Now, let me tell you how this is going to go,” I began. Ari chose that moment to peek out from her prostrate position, and she was horrified when she saw me, holding her beloved queen dangling in the air by the tail of her whip.

  “Grayson!” she cried. “Stop! What are you doing? Put her down!”

  It was in that moment that I realized that I couldn’t just storm in here, rescue her from a beating she probably thought she deserved, and save the day, then take her home with me to live happily ever after, ogre and princess. It was a lot more complicated than that. Yeah, I’m a little slow on the uptake, sometimes.

  “The spell,” I muttered to myself, growling at my own stupidity. “I have to break the spell.”

  The book still lay on the bed near where Ari had crouched, and I grabbed for it before either of them could stop me. The queen gawked when I picked it up, and I knew I was on the right track to destroying the spell. Unfortunately, to do that, I was going to have to destroy the book.

  I caught Ariana’s eye for the briefest of moments. “I’m sorry,” I whispered helplessly as I flung the book into the roaring flames of the fireplace in the corner of the room.

  Ariana shrieked, and fainted. I wasn’t sure if it was from the distress of seeing her precious book go up in flames or simply a side effect of the spell breaking, but there was no time to be upset by it. Using the whip to fling the queen across the room, I cast her against the wall, smiling at the cracking sound her spine made as it was slammed against the stone walls.

  Then I scooped Ari into my arms, cradling her like a baby and fled into the night, leaving the castle and its voodoo magic far behind us, at least for tonight.

  “Ariana.”

  Her eyelids fluttered lightly against her face, and I held my breath. She had been out for more than twenty-four hours, and I was getting anxious.

  “Ari, it’s time to wake up.”

  “Ughh,” she groaned. “What time is it? I had the weirdest dream.”

  My stomach clenched when she began to come to. I had been waiting for this confrontation for what seemed like forever, but now that it was happening, I wasn’t sure how it was going to go.

  “There was a storm, and my parents died and I was in the hospital. There was this horrible sea witch who stole my mother’s crown, and when she wore it, she became this beautiful queen. She came to visit me in the hospital and brought me this book. But what she was really doing was casting a spell on me. I became loyal to her with no memory of my parents or life before the queen. I lived at the castle with her. She was so strict and mean, and she beat us regularly. One day, I saw her without the crown, and she was really an ugly monster. Then I met this friendly ogre who liked to bake, but she told me the whole thing was a dream. She convinced me I was crazy, but the ogre was still there. She found out I was going to visit him, and she was beating me for my disloyalty when he broke into the castle, and grabbed her and burned the book she had given me. It broke the spell, and he took me home with him.”

  Her eyes were still closed, and her lips barely seemed to move when she spoke. This was exactly the outcome I had been fearing.

  “Ariana,” I spoke gently, but there was no disguising my deep voice. This time when she heard it, her eyes popped open and she sat straight up on the sofa, her back ramrod straight.

  Her face was etched in pain when she turned to face me. “It’s you,” she breathed.

  I waited.

  “It wasn’t a dream, was it?”

  “No, Ariana, it wasn’t. More like a nightmare we’ve all been living for the past two years.”

  Her eyes narrowed and she peered at me. “You’re Grayson. You’re that Grayson.”

  I frowned and looked down at my feet, wondering how she recognized me. Had I somehow changed form in the last ten minutes? Nope. Still green and giant.

  “You were there that day on the boat. You were the fisherman who made deliveries to the castle. You, and your father before you.” She sighed, her eyes wide and full of wonder and a hint of sadness. “My parents adored you.”

  “And I, them. Their deaths were a tragic loss to the Kingdom of Venus, and not just because of Queen Lamia.”

  At the mention of the sea witch, Ari covered her stomach with both hands and groaned. “Ugh, how could I have been so stupid?”

  My eyes narrowed into slits, and I worked to stay calm. Beautiful, young women putting themselves down was a pet peeve of mine, especially now. I figured if I could manage to refrain from self-abusing while looking like this, anyone should be able to. With a sigh, I crossed the room into the kitchen and began to brew a pot of tea. “You were not stupid Ariana. You—”

  “Grayson!” she cried, interrupting me. “I believed everything she told me. I let her use me for evil. I helped her hurt people, and I let myself be convinced that it was for the best, and that everyone outside the castle was against me. If that’s not stupid, then what is it?”

  “Voodoo. Mind Control. Brainwashing. Magic. Take your pick, but I don’t want to hear you call yourself stupid again, do you hear me?”

  She seemed to shrink in her place at my stern admonition, and my stomach knotted. I was going to have to be careful how I spoke to her. I was a dominant man… er, um, ogre, by nature, and I had a tendency to take charge, especially around beautiful, young women. My looks, size, and deep voice made me far more intimidating than I had ever been before, and I had been plenty intimidating when I wanted to be. It had been years now since I had been around a woman, other than the princess, and I was going to have to be careful not to spook her. Right now, she was like a wounded little bird who needed to be nursed back to health. Speaking of nursing… I moved to the kitchen, pulling supplies out of the cabinets.

  “I need to see your back, Ariana. I’m going to need to wash it, and apply ointment and bandages.”

  “I’m fine, Grayson, really.” She spoke in a listless monotone. “I like the pain. It reminds me to do better.”

  I shook my head, mixing up a salve in a little china bowl. “Do better at what?” I asked gently, reminding her with my tone that the last two years had been a lie.

  She didn’t answer, and I didn’t push it. It was funny; I had spent the last two years basically dreaming about breaking the spell and freeing
her from the queen’s mind control, wanting nothing more than to have her here at the cabin with me, and now that she was, I had no idea what to do with her. There was so much damage that needed to be undone, and I had no idea where to start. The urge was to swoop in and claim her as my own. This was where she belonged now, had always belonged, whether she knew it or not. Patience, I reminded myself. She had been out of the castle for a day, but only awake for twenty minutes. She was still groggy, still processing. Eventually I would claim her as mine and relay the hard truths of the past two years, but today was not that day. Today, I only needed to worry about taking care of my little princess. Convincing her she was a princess and getting her to do something about it? That could wait.

  Clutching a tiny cup of tea in one hand, and the bowl of salve in the other, I walked back into the living room. When she saw me, she groaned, flopped down to curl up on her side, facing the wall.

  “Sit up, Ariana.” I kept my voice cool and calm, even though inside my heart was breaking. I hadn’t ever given any thought to what would happen after the spell had broken. If I forced her to stay here with me was I no better than the queen? The thought tore through my gut like a knife, but I knew I had to keep her safe. I also wanted her to feel safe. With me. What if she didn’t? What if she found my ogre form repulsive?

  “Ariana,” I repeated gently. “I am going to take care of your wounds. This is non-negotiable. You need to sit up now. I don’t want to have to force you up, but I will if I must.”

  She whimpered softly at my edict, and though she remained facing the wall, she obeyed. I set the tea and salve on the table beside her, and sat on the one stool I had that fit my massive form. Lifting her dress, I assessed the damage. The wounds on her back were deep, but there were only two… this time. Seeing the broken skin, and the thin layer of scars beneath the wounds, presumably from past beatings filled me with a seething rage.

  “I should have done something before now,” I whispered angrily. As soon as the words left my lips, I knew how ridiculous they were. There was nothing I could have done. I didn’t have the information I had now, and I didn’t have a voice. I needed the information gleaned in my garden talks with Ariana. Without those talks, I wouldn’t have known how to break the spell, and storming the castle and kidnapping Ariana when she didn’t even know who I really was, would have terrified and traumatized her.

  Ariana turned then, and put her small hand in my oversized one. “Grayson, no. There was nothing you could have done. I was happy there. At least I thought I was. It wasn’t the right time.” She sighed sadly, and whispered under her breath, “Maybe it still wasn’t.”

  I tried not to let those words sting. Instead I turned her body so that her back was facing me again, and began to gently apply a thick layer of my homemade salve. “This might sting a bit. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s fine.” Her voice was a dull monotone. When my rough fingers came in contact with the edges of broken skin, she didn’t even wince. She was far too used to this, I realized.

  Wordlessly, I finished my application, and righted her dress. “It’s going to be a little sticky. I should probably bandage it so that it doesn’t weep onto your clothes.”

  Again, she said nothing, and I made the decision to let it go for now. It wouldn’t hurt the wound to breathe a bit, and there were other ways to take care of my little princess.

  “You were out for a whole day,” I called over my shoulder as I made my way back into the kitchen with the bowl of salve to cover it for later use. “I didn’t know what to do with myself, so I baked. It’s kind of become my vice.”

  No answer still.

  “Anyway, the kitchen counter is full. I have lots of yummy options to choose from. Let’s see. I have carrot cake, blueberry muffins, lemon bars, and sponge cake.” I looked around the kitchen, listing off the offerings, hoping one would catch her attention. “Oh, there’s my famous banana bread as well. It’s my mother’s recipe.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “Ariana—”

  “I don’t deserve to eat.”

  I had done well to stay calm, but that got my ire up. She needed sustenance and if she was going to stubbornly refuse my delicious treats as some sort of self-punishment for imaginary crimes, then I would make her something far less appetizing. Without saying a word, I set a pot of water to boil and went to work, listening intently for any sounds coming from the other room. There were none, but I hadn’t really expected any.

  I thought she might have fallen back asleep, but when I walked into the room fifteen minutes later carrying a hot bowl of rice soup, she was sitting up on the sofa, staring at the wall, with her arms crossed over her chest.

  “I told you I’m not eating.” She scowled.

  I set the bowl of soup down, and pulled the stool closer to her. When I sat down, we were knee to knee.

  “Little princess,” I began sternly. “You are acting as if I am giving you a choice. You will learn that I am a very patient ogre, who will put up with a lot. You can pout, sulk, whine or yell all you want, but I will not abide you not taking care of yourself. Now open your mouth.”

  “You can’t force me to e—” Before she could get the last word out, and clamp her mouth tightly shut like I knew she planned to, I picked up the bowl, dipped the spoon in the soup, and pushed it right into her open mouth.

  I was rewarded for my efforts with a spray of hot soup to the face. I had expected nothing less, and the knowledge that she had the energy, both mentally and physically to engage in a battle of wills with me, made me smile. So, she was acting a bit childish. I could deal with that. It meant she felt safe here, and that was worth a thousand sprays of soup to the face.

  Wiping my face with my sleeve, I picked up the spoon again. “Open up, Ariana. I can stay here all day, and we can do this a thousand times, and I can end up with a whole faceful of hot soup, but you will eat. If you drain the bowl with your antics, I will simply walk into the kitchen and get a refill. I’ve got a whole gallon.”

  Her eyes widened and then narrowed, but her mouth stayed clamped shut.

  Finally, she spoke, mumbling in an obvious attempt not to open her mouth far enough for me to shove the spoon in again. “You don’t have to take care of me, Grayson. I’m not a child.”

  “Oh, you’re not?” I asked pointedly, with one eyebrow raised. “Could have fooled me because you’re certainly acting like one.”

  As I had hoped, she sputtered, and her jaw dropped open in surprise as she gaped at me. I took advantage of the opportunity, swooping the full spoon past her open lips, and using one hand to snap her jaw shut, holding it closed. “Swallow.”

  It took a full minute of me sitting there holding her mouth closed, but she did eventually obey.

  When I moved my hand she grimaced. “That’s not very good.”

  “Surely not,” I agreed. “Baked goods are my specialty. But you didn’t want any of those when offered, and I went through the trouble to make this. So you will eat it, every last bite, and then we will enjoy it again for our supper.”

  “I don’t need you to feed me,” she whined, when I picked up the spoon again, and held it up to her lips. “You keep calling me ‘little princess,’ but I’m not little, nor am I a princess. And even if I were, I’m not a baby, and you are not my father. I appreciate you saving me, or whatever, and giving me a place to stay, but you don’t have to take care of me.”

  I was trying to keep it light, and I was trying to take care of her, but with every stubborn refusal, the dream I had been holding tight to for the last two years died a little more.

  I sighed, and spoon-fed her two more bites of soup before answering with a forced smile and a wink. “Well, little bit, I may not be your father, but I loved your father, and I know he would want me to take care of you. Like it or not, you are stuck with me for the time being. So, if you are going to keep acting like a child who needs to be taken care of, you can just call me Ogre Daddy.”

  Ogre Daddy? Why did th
e sound of that warm my soul as much as the flavorless soup was warming my belly? My stomach clenched and my nether regions seemed to suddenly awaken, pulsing with arousal. It was a feeling I’d never experienced and it was a bit unnerving.

  “What was that thought, little princess?” Grayson asked as he scooped the last bite out of the bowl.

  “Nothing,” I lied, embarrassed that he might learn of the thoughts I was having. Besides, I reminded myself, he was an ogre. Everything about him was huge. And green. I was sure his penis would be no exception.

  He chuckled, a deep rumbling sound that made me smile. “You are a terrible liar.”

  That simple sentence brought my penile musings crashing back to reality. I was a terrible liar. I knew I was. It had caused me a lot of trouble in the past. “I know. I got punished for it a lot.” At the thought of the queen and her whip, I sighed, lying down and pulling my knees to my chest, curling into a tight ball. Exhaustion set in and all I wanted was a nap, and to avoid the thoughts lingering below the surface. Grayson, however, seemed to want the opposite. He certainly didn’t pick up on my cues or obvious body language.

  “Sweetie, those were not punishments, that was abuse. There is a difference, you know. Punishments are administered with love and meant to teach a lesson. Abuse breaks you down and forces submission. Understand the difference?”

  I shook my head. I didn’t want to think anymore, but I couldn’t stop my brain from racing. The last hour had sent me through a whirling roller coaster of emotions. I needed to rest, and heal. I was still tired, I knew, but there were so many questions I needed answers to, and I wouldn’t rest until I could quiet the storm raging inside my head. Questions about Grayson, my parents, the queen, the past two years, the future, the past, everything. I opened my mouth, and the one that fell from my lips was the one I had least expected. “Why are you being so nice to me? Why do you care?”

  He peered at me in silence, his brow wrinkled as he seemed to contemplate the answers to the questions I was asking. I sighed, my stomach clenching at the perceived rejection. He felt sorry for me, obviously, and who wouldn’t? I was a mess.