Page 19 of Breaking Briar

Inside, I can feel myself screaming, but nothing moves. My lips refuse to part and let the sound out. It stays in my head, bouncing about until my mind aches and throbs.

Abomination.

Why didn’t I think things through? Why did I listen so blindly? If Philip is indeed a bastard-born dragon, then how will my true prince come and rescue me? Who can fight a dragon and live?

Abomination.

I long to move my hands, just enough to grasp the Dragon’s Bane I know rests against my chest. Something to feel safe and protected. But what can a mere plant do? Can’t he burn it away and me with it?

Do I long for death so eagerly that I almost wish to feel the heat of his breath against my skin? Deep inside my mind, I can almost feel an extra warmth kissing my flesh. I hadn’t felt it before.

Until now, everything was cold and desolate, a frigid prison with no escape. The whisper of a touch sizzles my brain, bringing all my attention to the nerves that had been left untouched for so long. Or was it merely an hour? A day?

Muddled thoughts come and go as I latch onto the sensation, using it to shore me up for longer days of nothing. Could this be my abomination? Or did some prince vanquish him and is here to rescue me?

My lips nearly tingle with anticipation of the kiss that will wake me up, but it never happens. Nothing brings me out of this darkness. If I could move, I’d ball my hands into fists and slam them against the person I feel touching me, begging them to release me from this torment.

Abomination.

The word keeps bouncing around my skull. It’s the only thing I can hold on to. But how can Prince Philip be what she claimed? He was always so sweet and gentle with me, even as a child. I remember the concern in his eyes whenever he looked at me.

He needn’t worry so. Nothing ever harmed me. As clumsy as I was, I never even managed to get a scrape against my delicate skin. But still, he worried. Even now, in memory, I can see his brows scrunching up as he looks me up and down.

Could he really be an abomination?

And that’s when his mighty roar shakes me to the core. It’s him. I know it’s him. Though I am trapped inside this body, I can hear and feel the anger rumbling off of him. The only thing keeping me from cowering in fear is the fact that I cannot command my body.

I cannot throw myself at his feet and beg for mercy. If only I could tear away the Dragon’s Bane to show him how sorry I am for keeping him at bay. But even as I think it, his fingers graze the sensitive skin as he plucks it from me.

But how can that be? No dragon should be able to pass the barrier. And yet, I know the plant is gone. Should I be grateful to know some other man enters my sacred lair? Or should I fear this stranger more than the man I thought I knew?

This person takes liberties with me no one with honor ever would. My skin burns as he tears away my clothing, ripping it off of me as if it were nothing more than silken strands from a spider’s web.

Then nothing.

I strain in the silence, listening for anything to give me a clue as to what he has planned, but all I can hear is his labored breathing. It matches my own, as if our hearts beat together. Perhaps now? Does he plan to kiss me?

No. He touches me. Finally, he grants my body some other sensation than the nothingness I’ve been forced to reside in. His fingers trail my skin until reaching the part of me I was supposed to keep hidden, sacred, only to be seen or touched by my true love.

The prince.

My abomination.

He touches me as if he owns me, running his fingers over my mound to tug at the last bit of defense I have. Instead of fear, however, pleasure blossoms through my body, making my breath catch and my soul sing. It’s as if my body knows and accepts this man and the things he does to me.

My legs wrench apart, stretching until the joints should ache, but instead of pain, I feel a burst of pleasure. Not like when I was younger and fell. This is altogether far different. It’s a sensation I’ve never known before.

As a child, any injury felt like a flutter of a bird’s wings behind my breastbone. It left me breathless, but that was it. Now, I find the fluttering to be a bit lower, near where he touches me, as if his fingers can make me pulse.

I ache.

I yearn.

I so desperately need.

But for what, I don’t know. It’s as if I’m standing on the edge of this precipice and teetering back and forth. I’m not sure if I want to take the plunge, but something tells me I won’t have a choice.

I feel him again as he touches me, far more intimately than any man has a right to. The heat of his breath scalds me, driving away the chill from my body. For the first time since I fell asleep, I feel alive and warm. Inside my head, I moan, the sound wanton and foreign to my ears.