No Prince for Riley (Grimm was a Bastard Book 1)

Warily, she reaches out and starts rubbing behind my ear. What the hell? I want to snap at her hand—carefully, of course, so I don’t hurt her—but her fingers there in my fur work magic. Damn, that feels good. She tickles the spot and, suddenly, all I can do is squeeze my eyes shut in utter surrender.

My knees start to buckle. Yeah, that’s it. Right there, baby. A little more. I sink into the long grass beside her and rest my head on my paws, groaning dreamily.

Riley sits up and continues the pleasure. Quietly, she giggles. “You like that?”

My eyes snap open. Shit! I shift back with a final snarl and get to my feet. “No.” Patting the dirt off my clothes, I throw her a warning look. “And stop shooting arrows at me!”

Holy flea circus! What turned me into that fuzzy ball of no control? Using the moment when Riley gets up, I briefly shake myself so she can’t see it. That was crazy. Until today, no one has ever touched me in wolf form. Apart from the Huntsman, but his touches are never those of great pleasure—and he always has a knife on him. As Riley throws the cloak around her shoulders and fastens it at the base of her throat, I narrow my eyes at her, scowling. This girl is sneaky, finding all the right spots to undo me.

I need a drink. Without a word, I head off across the meadow to the line of trees because I know a shortcut to the village. She follows me after she picks up the remaining, intact arrow. With a taunting smile pasted on her lips, she straps the bow and quiver to her back as she skips along beside me. “Where are we going now?”

“Pub. I’m done.”

“What? No!” Her happy expression falls, and she grabs my arm to stop me. “Come on, Jack, let’s give it a try first.” She clasps the collar of my shirt and hauls herself up on her toes so her hopeful face is level with mine. “Please. We’ve come this far today. Let’s find a prince and shoot him. See if this arrow really works.”

I frown. “Well, if not, you’ll be the new death-bringer of Fairyland. No more worries about romance then.”

“So are you coming?”

We stare into each other’s eyes for a lengthy moment. Her irises gleam like two drops of honey in the sun. And suddenly, I understand why I haven’t eaten this girl all these years. She has me on toast. It’s her eyes, her innocent look. She does that hopeful eyebrow-quirk thing, and I turn to complete putty in her hands. Fuck. When did that happen?

I wrap my fingers around hers and gently move them away from my shirt. “Mmrrrr…yyyyyes.” Irritated with myself, I roll my eyes. “After all, if you shoot a prince dead, someone should be there to dispose of the corpse. And I missed my granny meal today.”

“Oh, Jack, you’re the best!” Exultation in her skipping step, she dashes off a few feet ahead, her red cloak flapping in the wind and looking just as happy as she does. Then she stops and turns expectantly. I can’t share her enthusiasm, sorry. She’ll have to settle for my moody pace.

Surprisingly, she does—without complaint. But when she walks on beside me, the excited tremor in her is still tangible. Riley is like a bouncy ball of fluffy unicorn laughter today. How one person can be this lively is beyond me. And yet, it raises a tiny smile.

After a few more steps, I cast a look down at her and cock an amused brow. “You always this jumpy outside our tale?”

Instead of giving me an answer, I can see how she’s struggling to calm down. To no avail. In the end, her bright beam finds its way to my face. “I guess so.” She clings to the string of her bow running across her chest and bounds a few steps ahead again, then comes back. Excitedly, her hands wrap around my arm. “Just imagine, tonight I could find my happily ever after. We’ll go out, he’ll propose to me, and at the end of the story, we’ll have a beautiful wedding inside his palace.” Her eyes grow like sunflowers in the summer. “Wouldn’t that be a gorgeous ending?”

The only ending I can see is me playing a role in Peter and the Wolf, and a hoard of angry village people chasing after me with pitchforks in the final quarter. So, no. That wouldn’t be gorgeous.

The forest gets thinner around us again. This must be Kansas because I can see where the tornado left a swathe of fallen trees behind. One lies in our path, and I help Riley over it. Dorothy’s house stands in the open space to our left, but that’s not where we want to go, Riley informs me. Ahead is another signpost, toward which my red bouncy ball drags me. “Camelot?” I read out loud.

“Yes. They have King Arthur. His wife ran off with his first knight so he’s alone again, right?” Her lips stretch wide. “Perfect for me.”

“Ah, so becoming a princess in a cozy castle isn’t enough anymore?” I laugh. “You want a whole kingdom to rule over.”

“Not really,” she replies meekly after a moment of deep thinking. “But he’s the only single royal in Fairyland that I know of. I don’t want to steal somebody else’s prince.” Then her face lights up a bit more again. “And he’s hot from what I saw in The Character Magazine.”

“Hot, huh?”

“Yeah. Like really handsome, you know?” She steps on a rock and ruffles my hair, grinning, and then tickles the spot she rubbed before when I was the Wolf. “Not like ragged, little puppy dogs.”

Did she really just do that? I narrow my eyes to fake a mean scowl and sneer at her. “Run…little girl.”

When a playful growl rumbles from my chest, Riley dashes away, squealing like a happy, young child. I chase her, but not in wolf form. That would be too easy. And too dangerous. Near a little brook barring our way, I catch up with my girl in red and grab her from behind. A surprised half-gasp, half-laugh escapes from her. Not wanting to fall into the runlet, I take off with her and jump across the water. On the other side, we topple down, Riley breaking her fall with my body.

She laughs so hard in my arms that she can barely manage to climb off me. The sound is interesting—and cute. Like the snicker of the purple My Little Pony. For a strangely long moment, it makes me just look at her. Still in the hold of the odd emotion, I reach up and wipe a tear of laughter from the corner of her eye with my thumb.

Her face feels incredibly soft, and suddenly, I want to know more about this girl that I only thought I knew for so long. The side she’s showing me today is completely new. Curiosity takes over. I bring my thumb to my mouth and lick the small drop off.

Riley’s laughter turns into an incredulous giggle. Still lying on top of me, she slaps me on the shoulder. “Ew, Jack. That’s gross.”

No, it’s not. It tastes delicious.

“Your tears are like sun-kissed honey,” I honestly tell her with a smile. “I should make you cry more and make a drink from them.”

“You’re crazy.” She laughs again, her hood sliding farther down her forehead to cover her twinkling eyes and half of her nose. Suddenly, all I see in front of me is a pair of sensual, rosy lips. I wonder what she’d do if I plucked a kiss from them. She said she wanted to be kissed, didn’t she? And a kiss is a kiss, no matter if a prince delivers it or a wolf.

My hands on her hips, I lift my head a little from the ground, ever so slowly nearing her. The next moment, Riley pushes back her hood to her shoulders with both hands. Her wild hair frames her face, a few locks tangling across her forehead. The happy gleam in her eyes changes abruptly when she looks into mine. Suspicion crumples her face. “Jack! Were you just going to kiss me?”

Okay, that was a fail.

Motionless from astonishment, I quirk my brows. “Maybe…?”

Now would be a good time for her to get off me. But she doesn’t. Her face is still only inches from mine, and she’s obviously looking for some sanity in my expression. “Why would you do that?”

My head drops back to the ground. Cumbersome under her weight, I shrug my shoulders.

Her expression turns grim. “Well, stop it. How would that look if my future husband saw me kissing a stranger?”

My eyes fly wide open. “A stranger?” Hell, I’ve known this girl for centuries! I lift her off me, then stand up and help her to her feet, maybe pulling a little too hard because she knocks into my chest. I glare down at her face. “What am I to you? Stage equipment?”

Instantly, her expression softens. “Ah, come on, Jack. You know what I mean.”

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