She shifts a little and sighs peacefully, the sound sparking my smile. If only she could abandon this stupid idea of love only happening among royals, then we could be like this…every day…every evening after playing our parts in our tale.
Tilting my head back on the sofa, I study the wooden ceiling with only the quiet crackling of the fire and her steady breathing for company now. There must be ten thousand knot-holes in the timber. One for each time we played together, I'm sure.
I refuse to believe that all of this could be over. Let’s be frank, the chances of there being a prince sleeping in her trap come morning are slim to none. If I thought otherwise, I wouldn’t have helped her build it in the first place. But Phillip’s ball is tomorrow night. Blue-blooded guys from all corners of Fairyland will be there. They will dance with Riley and soon notice what a rare beauty she is. If she finds her new ever after in Phil’s palace, nothing will ever be the same again.
Shifting my mouth thoughtfully to one side, I lift my head and study her face. She’s asleep. I could carry her down to the cellar and lock her up until the ball is over.
Yeah, great idea, Jack. She’ll totally be in love with you after that.
Or, I could just ask Phillip to cancel the party. No ball, no prince. But I don’t want to get my friend into trouble with his wife. And knowing Riley, that wouldn’t stop her from trying to find her destined majesty somewhere else, anyway. She might play cowgirl and go after the next one with a lasso.
Praise must be given to her creativity, though. I chuckle softly just thinking about her harebrained ideas so far. Heck, she even tried to kiss a frog into a prince! Crazy, or desperate? I close my eyes. Feisty…that’s for sure. And something I’ve come to love most about this girl.
After following through with her plans the entire week, there’s obviously only one way to win Riley’s heart. I will have to snap myself into a prince, after all.
Unfortunately, there’s no serum in Fairyland that can turn red blood blue. Dr. Jekyll won’t be much help there. And all the witch spells in this damn place only work the other way round. I certainly don’t need someone to permanently turn me into a swan, a frog, or a beast.
There you have it, Jack. No chance at all.
Unless…
Chapter 13
Riley
“Mmmmh,” I moan, my fingers buried in soft, thick fur, and my face nestled against it as I return from the land of dreams back into my house. Jack was a man when we settled down together in front of the stove yesterday. Did he change into the Wolf overnight?
Slowly, my eyes flutter open. Bright morning light shines in on me from the east window of my hut, making me sneeze in greeting. My jerk doesn’t rouse Jack. Apparently, the Wolf is a sound sleeper.
“Wake up, puppy dog,” I mumble and shake the ball of fur. He feels strange beneath my fingers, far too stiff. And flat. Did I squash him by lying on top of him? Sitting up, I rub the daze of sleep from my eyes and look down at Jack—who isn’t Jack at all!
It’s a grizzly bear skin, the one in front of my couch. Startled, I scan my cabin. It’s empty. Jack is gone. Only the crackling fire keeps me company. He must have thrown a couple of logs into the stove before leaving. My long red cloak is draped over me, too, keeping me warm. It slides from my shoulders as I get up. No wonder I slept so well, tucked in like a baby bear.
Our two mugs from last night are still on the floor. I carry them over to the sink and open the kitchen window. Rain has gathered in the corner of the frame, pooling on the counter as I slide the pane. I wipe it away with a dishcloth and then poke my head out, calling, “Jack? Are you out there?”
The only answer is the merry chirping of my robin as he flutters down from the nest under the roof and settles on the windowsill. He fluffs up his feathers until he looks like a tiny ball of wool before he quickly shakes himself back into his petite form. There’s always a small sack of birdseed in my cupboard. I fetch a few grains and hold them out in my palm. It tickles when the small beak picks them up, one by one.
“Have you seen my friend this morning?” I ask in a soft voice, not wanting to disturb the little bird’s meal. “Tall man, dark hair, eyes like a wolf.”
After he’s done with his breakfast, the robin angles his strawberry-sized head from one side to the other, inspecting me with a beady eye in turn. Then he picks a couple of mites from his feathers, spreads his small, beautiful wings, and flies off.
“Great,” I call after him, frowning. “Next time you’re up to twaddling, don’t expect me to be chatty.”
Snorting, I turn back to the room, and my gaze alights on a piece of paper lying on the kitchen table. The brawny handwriting beckons me closer. My black pen lies next to the note. Jack must have gone on a raid through the chests to find it and the pad before he left.
The note in my hand, I sit down on a chair and read the few lines.
Dear Riley,
I need to run an errand outside town, which can’t wait. I’ll be back in a few days. You’ll have to tell me everything about the ball then.
Good luck with the prince hunt!
Jack
P.S.: Sorry for not waking you, but you looked extremely adorable drooling on the bearskin.
Quickly, I wipe the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand. Heck, I know I drool in my sleep at times. And he saw that? Heat sears my cheeks. Ugh. I want to drop into the hole to Wonderland again.
But what kind of errand is Jack talking about? And why didn’t he mention anything yesterday? Stealing away in the dead of night is strange to the last E. Then again…didn’t he say something about keeping Friday free for an adventure when we sat together by the lake the other day? Maybe it isn’t an excuse, after all.
I put the note and pen away in the same drawer Jack took them from. After washing up quickly in the bathroom, I collect my cloak from the floor and fasten it around my neck. It’s a shame that Jack is gone. I really wanted him to come with me to Rory and Phillip’s masked ball tonight. Nevertheless, something else conjures a wide grin on my face this morning.
I’ve got a trap to check.
My escort to the ball might already be waiting there. Flittering out of the cabin, I slam the door shut and take off in a run along the path to the mill, my cloak flapping after me. Before the last bend, I halt and lean against a tree, catching my breath. If someone is lying in the prince bed, I don’t want them to see me sweaty and panting.
First impressions are everything, right?
When the faint sounds of snoring drift to me, my muscles tense with excitement. I jerk up my head and hold my breath. Is there really someone sleeping in my trap? With Jack’s disregard of my idea with the strawberries, I almost lost faith myself. But heck, here are the noises to prove my ingenuity.
Excitement is killing me as I tiptoe into the bushes where I tied the rope to a root last night. One quick pull, and the prince should be mine. Hopefully, he’s a cutie-pie. My heart skips wildly in my chest as my fingers close firmly around the rope. I tighten it, ready to snap the trap shut. But then the raucous snoring makes me hesitate. Goodness, did he swallow a chainsaw?
With a man like this beside me in bed, I’m not sure I’ll ever close an eye again for the rest of my life. Silently, I crawl closer to the bushes to peek at my trap. There isn’t much to see, just a rolled-up bundle of a man on the pillow nest with his back to me. Hm. I bite the inside of my cheek. Maybe a closer look before pulling the stick away? It can’t hurt.
Rising with the rope’s end in my hand, I shake my hair back, straighten my spine, and nobly walk into the small clearing by the Timeless Brook with my head held high—just in case the man wakes up and sees me. At another strident snore, I wince. Oh, man…