A Cage of Crimson (Deliciously Dark Fairytales #5) Read Online K.F. Breene

Categories Genre: Dark, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, Paranormal Tags Authors: Series: Deliciously Dark Fairytales Series by K.F. Breene
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Total pages in book: 164
Estimated words: 152666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 763(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 509(@300wpm)
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I moved around the screen sheepishly, holding my robe tight as though it might develop a mind of its own and flee from my body.

He was also clothed in a robe, the bottom reaching down to his ankles and the sleeves rolled up so the arms fit. The middle wasn’t too big, and he filled out the shoulders, but it was clear his robe was meant for someone taller.

“I thought maybe I was just a shrimp.” I grinned, rustling the bottom of the robe.

He looked down at his own. “These are clearly meant for a larger creature.” He glanced over his shoulder at the curtain. His lips curled just slightly, unwilling to say anything more when we might be overheard. I couldn’t imagine what secrets he might need to divulge about robes.

“Shall we?” He gestured me forward.

“Oh.” I hesitantly headed for the curtain, peeling it back to reveal a large room with six tubs within. The woman on hand was filling the second of two, the rest left empty.

She glanced up as we came in. Upon seeing me, her large smile faltered.

“Oh honey . . .” Her brown eyes swept to Weston, scanning his face for a moment, before coming back to me.

“Trouble on the road,” Weston said without preamble.

“Of course.” She clucked her tongue, gesturing us over. “It’s getting so rough out there! Every day I hear about fine merchants like yourselves nearly overcome with thieves. We don’t get nearly the number of people through here that we used to, no we do not. Too much crime! Well, no matter. You made it. Here, let me help you. Oh my word⁠—“

The woman’s eyes rounded when she saw the rest of my body, the angry red and blue that was already surfacing on my ribs and the various other bruises from Alexander that I didn’t remember getting.

“It’s fine.” I waved her away, bracing myself to get into the tub. The twisting would hurt, which was fine, but I didn’t want to slip and crack the other side.

“Here.” Weston held out his hand.

“Thanks,” I murmured, going slow but finally sinking in.

I groaned, the heat of the water, just on the edge of being too hot, felt glorious and the floral fragrance of the petals was a nice touch.

“This looks very fresh.” She scanned my legs as she picked up the bar of soap. “This didn’t happen just now in the city, did it? We have a lot of guards. They’ve been very good about squashing trouble⁠—“

“It was this morning. The ache hasn’t reached its zenith quite yet,” I said without thinking, laying back and closing my eyes. “But this bath will go a long way to relax my muscles. It won’t heal the bones—those take forever—but at least it’ll help the soreness.”

“Why can’t you heal bones?” she asked.

“Without magic, the larger stuff takes forever. It’s fine. I’ve been through it before.”

It took me a moment to notice the silence. When I opened my eyes, she had frozen, her hands having been drawn back and her eyes scared. She looked at my skin like I had an incurable, spreadable disease.

I’d been through this before, too.

Before I could open my mouth to do damage control, Weston’s command ripped through the room.

“Get out. I’ll see to her.”

She flinched, nearly falling back in her haste to get away—from me or from him, it was impossible to say. She made her apologies and practically slammed the door to a back room. Silence filtered in the wake.

“Sorry,” I said, wincing as I sat forward to see if I could reach the soap she’d dropped. “That’s been my answer all my life. I didn’t have to hide it in my village. I forgot myself.”

“Don’t ever apologize for other people’s small-mindedness,” he growled, crossing to the other side of my bath and reaching down for the dropped items. He knelt by my tub, his robe open down the front. “I had intended to wash myself. It’ll be more fun to wash you.”

“I can wash myself.”

“And deny me the pleasure?” His eyes were soft as he rubbed the bar of soap against the sponge.

“Except I can’t return the favor.”

“Maybe not right now, but I promise to let you return the favor in the future, and I expect you to be sitting on me when you do.”

My face heated and I lay back, staring into his beautiful eyes, so clear and open. “You’re going to use a sponge?”

He hesitated with the sponge in front of my chest, just above the water line. His gaze flickered back and forth between the sponge and my chest.

“You’re not going to use your bare hands?” I prompted wickedly.

“Oh.” He stared down at it, letting it lower to the water a little, then pausing. “Umm. Honestly, I can’t tell if you’re joking. I’ve never done this before. With a woman, I mean. I’ve obviously washed myself, but I doubt I care as much about hygiene as you probably do. I’m not dirty or anything—it’s not that. It’s just that I have definitely used bare hands on myself, but I’m not sure if women think that’s gross? I don’t pee in the shower, just to be clear on that. I don’t do that. Almost never, at least. I’m just⁠—”


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