The sun is back in full force today. I shade my eyes as I follow Rue around the outside of the castle, though not to the beach we explored the day before yesterday. Today she’s on a mission to find the right light for drawing, whatever that means.

In practice, it means I’m left trailing behind her as she hitches up her skirts and wades through the high grass that grows on the bluff next to the castle. She makes a pretty picture in her light blue dress, fighting against the wind to get wherever she is going. Her red hair splays out wildly, refusing to be bound. I catch only occasional glimpses of her freckled face, squinting at the sun-drenched landscape.

All the while, I’m lulled by the sound of the tide going out. The noise of the ocean washes everything else away. Just over the cliff, I can see the pointed rocks and the waves breaking on them.

I’m listless, hiking a good twenty paces behind Rue, trying to keep an eye out. For what, exactly, I do not know. But I check that my hunting knife is in my pocket time and again, nevertheless. You can never be too careful. My eyes sweep back and forth as I follow Rue, ever watchful.

The vigilant part of me slips into that comfortable nook inside me, allowing me time to think. And I think about Rue.

About how she disappeared the other night, at the mention of her mother being a whore. About her wide-eyed denials when accused of pleasuring herself.

Sinking down into that thought, I imagine Rue splayed out on a couch, wearing nothing at all. She bites her lip and blushes as she spreads her creamy thighs, inching her hand down past that golden nest of hair to find her clit.

I can imagine it so well that I start growing hard, out here amongst the grasses. It makes moving more challenging, and I find the amble that I have had up until now has me falling behind. Luckily Rue stops, staring out at the sapphire sea, her slender frame looking as wispy as ever.

I could snap her in two like a twig. I could crush her windpipe almost without thought. It would be so easy, ending her life.

She turns to look for me, shading her eyes and motioning for me to come closer. I trudge to where she stands, realizing just how close she is to the edge. She doesn’t wait to hear my gripes, though. She faces the sea once more, her voice a bit breathless.

“Look at it,” she says. “Can you imagine a more beautiful sight?”

I can, I think, looking at her. With a little color in her cheeks and the cornflower blue of her eyes shining at me, how can I be dour? I let the corners of my mouth curl up. “No.”

It’s too bad that I’m a monster, and our love story will be a tragedy for her. I think in a different place and a different time, she would’ve illuminated the darkest parts of me, and I would’ve gladly let her. Hell, I would’ve opened the doors to allow all her magic and beauty in.

If I had met Rue in the market instead of Aurelia, maybe this tragic story could have had an uplifting ending. But I am who I am now. I’ve done so many violent, bloody things since then.

I’ll never be innocent again, not even as relatively innocent as I was six years ago. Now, with the Church against me and a Prince on the other side too, what have I got going for me?

The Rebel King’s heir, if gossip is to be believed. That thought tempers my smile.

“Let’s go back now,” I say. “I’m hungry for lunch.”

Rue doesn’t argue. She comes skipping along, a small bunch of wildflowers in one hand. We walk back in silence, with Rue still admiring the view. She stops a few times to add a flower or some heather to her bouquet, and I don’t try to stop her.

Let there be some happiness in the castle if there can be. Walking ahead, I shade my eyes and squint.

I can just make out a man by the front door, peering curiously at it. He’s dressed in khakis and a faded Hawaiian shirt, his dark hair greying at the temples. As I get closer, I can see that he clutches a map.

All signs that he is a tourist, and yet…

Something about him isn’t right. I turn to Rue.

“I need you to go back the way we came in from the sea,” I say, pointing at the path we cleared in the grasses with our bodies. “Go back and sit down in the grasses so you can’t be seen. Don’t come back until I call for you.” I wait for a beat as she stares at me uncertainly. My lip curls up in a snarl. “Now!”

She jumps and goes pale, turning around and heading back to the high grasses. I stride toward the castle’s entrance, glowering. Fishing the knife out of my pocket, I unfold it.

The man only seems to notice me when I’m a dozen feet away. He turns to greet me with a stupid-looking smile, waving his map in the air. “Hi, there. Is this your property?”

I don’t pull any punches, being openly menacing. “You need to leave.”

He looks confused. “Well, I was just—”

I grip the knife in my palm, making it clear that his life is in danger. “Leave,” I grit out.

The way he looks at the knife, the way his eyes don’t widen… that says that something isn’t right. He just looks at me, squinting. “Look, I was hoping to use your phone…”

I feel like I’ve given him two chances to get the fuck out of here, and that’s enough. I lunge at him, aiming for the carotid artery in his neck. He has some training, as he uses his arms to block me. He’s pretty effective until I get my foot behind his, hooking him by the ankle.

I trip him, and he’s mine. I know it. He knows it. A sense of fission runs through me, the same sensation I usually get when I’m about to kill. Locking him in my grip, I bring the knife to his neck, ready to pierce his carotid.

“No, no!” he cries. “I’ll leave!”

“Who sent you?” I husk out, bending one knee while he struggles. “Hmm?”

“N-n-no one,” he yowls, panicking. “I just wanted to see the inside of the castle—”

He makes a choking noise when I tighten my grip because I can't stand any more of his lying.

“Who taught you to lie so badly?” I growl. “Tell me who sent you, and I’ll let you leave here alive.”

“I swear,” he says, choking. He starts turning red. “I didn’t mean to offend you…”

“Hey!” I look up to find Rue a few paces away, her expression incredulous. “Let him go!”

“Go back to the grasses,” I hiss at her.

“No!” she says, looking a little frightened. She switches to French. “Seriously, just take your hands off of the guy.” She hesitates, then returns to English. “I’m sure that this man will agree to leave. Won’t you?”

She looks pointedly at the man who I’m wrestling. The man nods vehemently.

“I will!” he says. “And… and I won’t tell anybody, either. I’ll just leave—”

Disgusted, I let him go. “Do you ever fucking stop talking?”

The second I no longer have a grip on his neck, he glances at Rue pityingly and scrabbles off down the driveway. I shoot a death glare Rue’s way.

“He’s going to call the police,” I predict stormily. “Assuming that he wasn’t sent by Father Derrik, that is. If he was, he will tell them that we’re here and we’re without protection.”

I take a step toward her. She quails, looking apprehensive. I can see her swallow hard. Pointing to the front door, I hiss at her.

“Get inside.”

She turns and scurries to the door, heaving her weight against it to move it enough so that she can get inside. I’m right on her heels, moving with a kind of maniacal sureness.

She hurries up the stairs, which makes me smile cruelly.

“I hope you don’t just think that you’re going to go to your room.” I dog her hurried steps. She glances back at me, licking her lips nervously.

“Dryas—” she tries to explain.

I sweep her up in my arms and carry her toward her bedroom. It’s almost as if I carry nothing at all in my arms, she’s so slight. She’s gone pale, but she has two bright spots of red burning high in both cheeks. She licks her lips again as I barrel through her door and deposit her on the bed.

She flies into action as soon as I drop her, scrambling to get away. My hand lands on her thigh and I pull her closer to my body as I climb onto the bed.

“Dryas… Dryas, no…” she says, desperation thickening her voice.

I lock her in place under my big body, throwing her arms up and pinning them against the bed. I can see the fear making her pulse go wild. Running my nose along the elegant line of her neck, I flick my tongue out to taste her skin, salty-sweet.

I hear her shaking exhalation of breath. Chuckling, I shift my weight to pin her hips with my own. Feeling her warm body beneath mine makes me hard. Pressing my erection against her, hearing her whimpers, I suck her earlobe into my mouth.

Her whimpers stop for a moment, followed by her sucking in a long breath. I can feel her breath stirring against my cheek as she slowly lets it out. Letting one of her wrists go, I grasp her jaw, marveling at how tiny it is compared to my big hand.

So tiny. So pale, the freckles paling next to my much darker skin. I grip her jaw firmly, moving her head up. Giving my mouth access to her delicate, almost translucent skin.

At first, I brush my lips against the column of her throat. I can feel her resistance melt a little under my body, feel her curiosity outweighs her rebelliousness. Sucking at the tender crux where her shoulder meets her neck, I know I draw on her flesh too hard. I can feel myself leaving a bruise.

Good. Let her learn what it means to bed a beast. Let her look in the mirror later and see what it is to be mine.

My attention wanders down to those perky little breasts, heaving beneath my chest. I release her jaw in favor of pawing at her breast, pulling at the silky dress she wears. She’s not wearing a bra, so I get a handful of goodness. I can feel her nipple rising insistently against my palm.

Yet another sign that she likes this. Likes being my prey, as it were.

I rip at her dress, shredding the fine material. She makes a mournful sound as it rends. But a second later I’m rolling that pert, dusky rose nipple between my deft fingers. I glance at her and she looks back, her eyes half-lidded.

She makes a soft noise that would be moan of pleasure coming from any other woman’s lips. But my little bird is not used to feeling pleasure. So, she mutes herself, makes her pleasure unimportant.

I shift my weight again, moving lower to take that same pouty nipple between my lips. I’ve forgotten the reason that I started all this, caught up in making her make noises that satisfy me. Her head rolls back, eyes closed hard. Her whole body goes tense as I run my tongue over her nipple in a figure eight pattern.

I mmmm against her nipple, moving my big body aside and ripping her dress up. Rue’s eyes snap open, looking as blue as they ever have.

I run my hand down the line created by her legs pressing together.

“No—” she tries.

But I don’t listen. I pry her legs apart, my fingers exploring the seam I find there, held back by nothing but a flimsy pair of pink panties. She’s wet. There’s no denying that.

My mouth curls up in a grin as I touch her where her clit should be, probing softly. I look at her face again, which is forbidding. Not really what I was expecting, but whatever works. It doesn’t stop her from letting out a little gasp and thrusting against my fingers.

Pushing the material aside, I rub her clit harder and take her nipple in my mouth once more. I suck on her nipple, harder than I need to. But she just groans aloud, her eyes closing.

Her wetness drips onto my hand from my fingers, driving me wild. I release her nipple and move up to her throat, then her lips. I kiss her on the lips, firm and insistent. She is awkward, but she kisses me back, her lips moving too little.

When I add a little tongue, she kills the moment by using too much. Breaking the kiss, I touch my lips to her throat instead, sucking at the pulse point.

Suddenly she goes wild, thrusting against my hand, her body seeking release. I give her what she needs, twisting figure eights into her clit. She comes all at once, like a wave exploding on the beach, spontaneous and ancient and somehow also brand new.

I don’t stop touching Rue until she grabs my hand and pulls it away, closing her legs. I skim my hand over her outer thigh, watching emotions wash over her face. The rosy heights of her orgasm soon fade, leaving behind a look of shame and betrayal.

I didn’t think I’d betrayed her. Puzzled, I try to pull her into my arms.

“No!” she protests, pushing herself away. Her eyes begin to fill with tears as she turns onto her side, staring out the tall windows into the bright sunlight. She whispers, “Just go away.”

The way she sounds… it doesn’t sound like her. She sounds broken.

What in the world did I do to make her sound like that?

“Rue,” I say, sitting up.

Unexpectedly, she sits up and whips one of the pillows from her bed at my head. When she screams, it’s enough to startle me. “I said go away! Go AWAY!”

She drops back onto her bed, pulling another pillow over her head. I blink, unsure what to do for the first time since I saw her running through the woods, a wedding dress streaming behind her.

Then, it was easy. Take her, I thought. And so, I did.

But this? Crying and screaming and throwing things? I would’ve expected it from a different girl, but not Rue. Pushing myself up off the bed, I walk to the door.

I stop and look back, but Rue remains motionless except for her jagged, silent sobs. Shaking my head as I walk down the hall, I have to wonder.

Was it something I did or did Rue come to me damaged in some way?