Twined

TWINED Copyright © 2022 by Renée Rocco All rights reserved No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Cover and Interior Design: Renee Rocco Developmental Editor: Cassandra Higgins Copy Editor: ACourtofSpicyEdits First Electronic Edition: January 2023 First Print Edition: January 2023 Printed in the United States of America Warning Welcome to my imagination, where the villains are the heroes. My stories may include triggers for some readers. Listing (the numerous) warnings here might be seen, to some, as spoilers. For a list of warnings, please visit my website: https://reneerocco.com/content-warnings For everyone who fell in love with Quinn. This one's for you. “Did I ever tell you I’ve got a thing for brunettes?” Flynn Rider, Tangled Glycerine by Bush Mouth by Bush The Undertaker by Puscifer Darkside by Neoni Unstoppable by Sia Saddens by Enigma Fumbling Towards Ecstasy by Sarah McLachlan The Mummers’ Dance by Loreena McKennitt Demons by Imagine Dragons Bring Me to Life by Evanescence Tainted Love by Marilyn Manson Bodies by Drowning Pool Falling Away From Me by Korn Listen to the full playlist https://spoti.fi/3un4FB0 Contents Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Acknowledgments About the Author Preview of Twisted Preview of Wraith Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter One “A single word and this torment ends.” Sybil swipes ropes of dirty hair from her face, where wrinkles have etched their way across her ashen flesh during the months she’s rotted away inside my dungeon. I’ve taken pleasure in watching her youth and beauty fade. Oh, how I’ve enjoyed witnessing Rapunzel’s magic drain from this witch’s body, leaving her a brittle, old woman. One whose persistence and devotion, although admirable, are foolish. It’s also unfortunate, given how her perseverance has worn my patience down to a raw nerve. I’ve wasted too much time already indulging in her misguided loyalty to Rapunzel. It ends today. In this cell, rank with her stink because I’ve denied the witch even the most basic of humane necessities. I have not even provided her with clean water. This is the punishment for choosing the wrong side in my kingdom. Her food rivals the slop tossed in the swine pens. Urine overflows to puddle around her chamber pot. Lice and fleas have made a home on her abused, frail body. The only comfort afforded her is a straw mattress with a single, threadbare linen blanket soiled with the body fluids of the man I had slaughtered days before this cell became her tomb. And yet, Sybil’s irritating spirit rages around her like a protective cloak. I’ve grown exasperated with her fortitude. The need to bring this witch to heel has become an obsession. One that burns so hot, it’s almost as fervent as my need to find Rapunzel. “Inadequate.” Her croaked reply is pushed past cracked lips. Her fetid breath fills the space between us. I tilt my head, my ear toward her, waiting to hear more. When she remains stubbornly silent, I snarl, “Explain.” “Greater men have failed to break me.” Sybil straightens her spine. The chain attached to the manacle around her throat rattles with the movement. “You. Are. Inadequate.” Her eyes spark with fury, and I know if she had access to her herbs and talismans, she’d cast a spell to drop me dead where I stand. Confirming this, she spits, “To the devil with you.” “I’ll meet him in due time. But you’ll see him first,” I bite out, refusing to rise to her bait. Instead, I gesture at her kneeling at my feet and collared to the wall like a feral dog. Her reach is limited in the already tight cell, and I remain out of her grasp. The fat ruby on my finger catches in the dim light of the torch flickering from the single wall sconce beyond the rusted bars. I hold out my hand to admire the jewel. “Why do you insist on fighting me?” Sybil shakes her head, the thick cuff around her neck tight enough to dig a bloody trench into her flesh. Her rattling breath echoes throughout the dank and claustrophobic prison. “To explain devotion and honor to you would be like explaining the heavens to an insect.” Her remark warrants a slap across her bony face. A crimson slash follows the path of my ring. Repulsed, I clean away the filth of her from my skin with a slide of my palm along my blue silk tunic. “You are many things, Sybil of Aberdeen, but I never expected foolish to be among them.” I flex my fingers, revolted that I still detect her grime on my skin. When I focus back on her, I note how she’s desperately fighting to hide her shivering under the weight of the dungeon’s oppressive chill. “Tell me where you put my daughter and I’ll provide you with clothing and a warm meal.” This irritating exchange has gone on far too long. Three months too long. The repetition of her enduring the techniques of my best torturer is getting tiresome. Also, time is running out. Damn her. The stubborn witch, with her gray hair hanging over her face in matted ropes, sags, lowers her head and heaves out a heavy sigh. Then she pitches forward until her palms slap against the dirty stone floor. Her body is racked with