As if she can sense me trying to ask why, she presses a finger against my lips.

“It’s impossible to know which of the red ones are poisoned by the Evil Queen,” she says. “She’d take great pleasure in killing a pretty girl like you, so don’t give her the satisfaction. You would’ve died if Gabriel hadn’t sucked a good chunk of the poison out of your chest.”

He did what?

My eyes widen, and she laughs while trailing a hand down my neck. “I’m being facetious, Belle. I know he kissed you here.” She moves her hand above the swell of my right breast. “And here … Am I wrong about that?”

I nod, and she laughs again.

“Fair enough.” She wades behind me and picks up the brush, resuming the care of my tresses. Then she whispers, “For what it’s worth, he’s checked on you multiple times every day. I think he likes you…”

Enchanted No More

Gabriel

Something isn’t adding up…

No birds have sent word of any villagers searching for Isabelle or her father, and the trees’ whispering network has yet to confirm that anyone cares.

Usually, when I hold someone for a debt—no matter how small—the outrage over my retribution spreads like wildfire within hours.

Belle’s kidnapping is over a week old now, and the deafening silence surrounding it is more than concerning.

Is Mr. Arwyn really her father? Did she make that up?

The more I think about her, the more I wonder if she knows something darker about him and Isabelle. If she’s been a part of their plan to get away from me all along.

My mind can only wander so far, though. My conspiracy theories are incessantly interrupted with memories of her perfect and tempting mouth. Even though she “claims” she hated it.

“You made me waste my second kiss…”

“Please tell me that we’re leaving this godforsaken place in the morning,” someone complains outside my cabin window. “I’d even settle for a midnight departure through a storm at this point.”

“I’m hoping to hear the same,” another voice says. “The dwarves are nice, but they can’t build a ceiling for shit.”

“Or a decent bed either. Half my body hangs off the damn frame.”

I hold back a laugh and move toward the cabin’s back door, stepping outside.

When I’m sure no one is watching, I open my satchel and pull out my dreadful mirror. I’d planned not to use it—to show the old hag that I could handle the final leg of this journey and curse on my own—but my pride is costing me time.

Swallowing it, I hold it in front of my face.

The glass instantly sparkles and gleams, and the haggard woman’s face settles in its center.

“Well, well, well. Look who’s come crawling back to me…” She tosses her head back and cackles, revealing her revolting, toothless smile. “I was beginning to worry that you didn’t love me anymore.”