by Plum Pascal
GOLDY
BOOK 2 OF THE
HAPPILY NEVER AFTER SERIES
by
Plum Pascal
HP Mallory
Copyright ©2020 by Plum Pascal
Published by HP Mallory
License Notes
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ALSO BY H.P. MALLORY:
Paranormal Series: (Writing as HP Mallory)
Lucy Westenra Series
Mists of Magic and Mayhem Series
Lily Harper Series
Dulcie O’Neil Series (over 1 million downloads of the series!)
Jolie Wilkins Series (New York Times bestselling series!)
Sinjin Sinclair Series
Peyton Clark Series
NuLife Series
Reverse Harem Series: (Writing as Plum Pascal)
Happily Never After Series
Sacred Oath Series
F My Life Series
TABLE OF CONTENTS:
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
TWENTY
TWENTY-ONE
TWENTY-TWO
TWENTY-THREE
TWENTY-FOUR
TWENTY-FIVE
TWENTY-SIX
TWENTY-SEVEN
EPILOGUE
About Goldy:
Fairy Tale Princesses Like You’ve Never Seen Them Before…
10 Champions destined to defeat an evil that threatens to wipe out the land of Fantasia...
Snow White, Goldilocks, Rose Red, Sleeping Beauty, Tinkerbell, Cinderella, Bo Peep, Belle, The Little Mermaid, & Red Riding Hood
Book 2: Goldy
Three bear shifters.
vs.
One golden-haired thief.
Kassidy Aurelian, otherwise known as Goldilocks, is a Guild thief, and has one goal and one goal only. Find and obtain the coveted Ambrosia from the werebear kingdom, no matter the cost.
Once Kassidy has the Ambrosia in hand, she comes close to escaping.
But close doesn’t count when she’s facing the wrath of three werebears… Leith, Nash and Sorren, all who happen to be as naked as they day they were born.
Once captured, Kassidy faces a difficult choice: Either take the punishment for her theft—a punishment which will almost certainly kill her—or choose submission. Submission = two weeks in each of their beds, sacrificing her virginity in the process. As if that weren’t bad enough, Kassidy can’t stand Nash and she’s scared to death of Sorren.
With a mutual enemy rising in the underground kingdom of Grimm, Kassidy realizes she needs help from the three bears in order to beat this enemy back. But, the road to their help is paved with her naked and willing body.
To save herself and her people, is Kassidy brave enough to climb into bed with three sexy shifters and literally bare all?
10 Chosen Ones:
When a pall is cast upon the land,
Despair not, mortals,
For come forth heroes ten.
One in oceans deep,
One the flame shall keep,
One a fae,
One a cheat,
One shall poison grow,
One for death,
One for chaos,
One for control,
One shall pay a magic toll.
Goldilocks:
Born a thief and a cheat
She meets fate with a smile
And brings a giant his doom
On a distant isle.
ONE
Kassidy
The magnified roar of a bear shakes every leaf on the trees around me and turns my legs wobbly for a too-long second.
I force myself to keep moving, clinging to the burn in my muscles, the ache of my back as I struggle to carry my precious cargo, the scrape of air in my lungs. All these pains remind me I’m still alive. And they remind me I want to stay alive, no matter the cost, even as hopelessness threatens to overwhelm me.
I knew the risks going into this mission, knew this nightmare scenario might be waiting for me.
But, fuck, all the same.
Knowing and experiencing are two different things, and I can’t help the shudder that rocks through me as the furious bear shifter behind me bellows its displeasure into the sky.
The path is so overgrown, I can scarcely follow the twisting brown ribbon of dirt winding in front of me. What’s more—night is closing in, something which will prove to be more a hindrance to me than to my pursuers. Bears have amazing night vision, and it’s doubly true for werebears.
Well, fuck me.
I shove my hand into the satchel bound to my waist, a satchel enchanted by Tenebris a long time ago in order to hold massive quantities of… you name it. The number of items and the breadth of said items the satchel can hold is mind-blowing, but you wouldn’t be able to know just by looking at it.
It takes me thirty precious seconds of searching to find the pair of enchanted goggles I managed to filch off a traveling merchant. When I slide them on, the night comes into clearer focus, everything highlighted in fluorescent green, and I leap just in time to avoid stumbling over a fallen log. Instead, I use the mossy oak as a springboard, launching myself toward the wall, just a few feet away.
The smack of body against the brick drives the air from my lungs, and I dig my fingers and the heels of my boots into the worn lines of mortar between the stones in order to hold on. I heave in one breath, then two, only giving myself a few seconds to recover before I’m climbing. A surge of hope rises in me as I scale the fifteen-foot wall. I’m so close to escape. If I can scale this wall and make it to the other side, I’m home free. I can make my way back to Bridgeport and liaise with Hook for safe passage to Delorood.
I’ve been a good climber my whole life, since very soon after walking. First, to escape the bastard who’d sired me, avoiding beatings by remaining out of reach, and then to keep up with my adopted brothers: Sabre, Titus, and Draven, who had the unfair advantage of flight. Even with my fingernails threatening to break and the flesh of my fingers already screaming, I know I can handle this wall.
The roar ceases, and the silence is so deafening, I whip my head down to see what’s happened to my pursuers. What I find below draws a squeak from me.
The two bears, one black and the other slate gray, have disappeared, leaving men in their place—very tall and very… strong who also happen to be as naked as the day they were born. I can’t see much beyond the tops of their heads, though, but what I can make out with the aid of my goggles frightens the shit out of me.
These fuckers are huge! Easily six-feet-six or more, with more muscle than your average carnival strongman. And they�
��re scaling the wall after me, closing the distance quickly, the dark one in the lead.
My mind squeaks a panicked litany even as I force myself to climb higher, faster.
Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit...
The dragon shifters—Malvolo, Herrick and Reve—had tried to warn me against this mission, saying that next to dragons and hellhounds, bears are the toughest customers around. You’d have to be a moron or have a death wish to fuck with them. And yet, here I am—with no death wishes so I guess that leaves the other alternative. Am I moron? I guess the jury’s out on that one.
I don’t really have time to think about it though, because these enormous and enormously pissed off assholes are catching up. Only a foot or two beneath me now, even though I’m climbing as quickly as I can.
“Ah!” I yell when one of them makes a grab for me, wrapping long, sure fingers around my ankle. He tugs, and the force is almost enough to dislodge me from my perch. If he succeeds, he’ll send me careening back to the ground to break my back or split my head open like a ripe melon, depending on which way I land.
I cling tenaciously to a brick which pops out of the wall a bit more than the others, giving me something on which to wrap my upper body around. I squeeze until blood runs down my fingers and my knuckles are long past the point of turning white. And then I get an idea. Hopefully not another moronic one.
Clinging to the exposed brick, I take my free foot and smash it, as hard as I can, on the fuckers fingers which are still wrapped around my ankle. Yes, it feels like I’m about to snap my ankle but I do it anyway because I’m not going to last hanging like this. Now the second part of my hopefully not moronic plan: I free one hand from the stone and bring it down to where it’s just above the enraged guy’s face. He looks up just at the moment I shake my hand and all the blood from my palms and fingers floods his face.
The hot spray of scarlet hits him in the eyes, just as I intended.
“Fuck!” he yells in an accented voice as he draws his grasping hand back to clear his vision, growling all the while. I seize the opportunity and drag myself the last few feet up the wall, scrabbling to reach the top.
The ledge of the wall is about three feet wide, but sturdy enough to stand on, especially for me because I’m about the size of a large child. Yeah, I wasn’t around when the gods were handing out height but you know what? Being so little (I’m maybe five feet tall on a good day) has it benefits—I’m small and I’m quick and both attributes make for a good thief.
And I also have great balance—I’ve been forced to balance on the point of a spire once—so this walk along the top of the wall is a jaunt through the park! When I reach the end, I evaluate the drop down. Even jumping feet first, I’m unlikely to survive the fifteen-foot fall, and if I did survive it, my legs would be broken and I’d have no chance of escaping those fucking bears.
And those bears will kill me if they have the option. I’ve no doubt about that. The fuckers are beyond enraged.
Climbing down isn’t an option, either. My hands are shredded to shit and once on the ground, if my pursuers climb onto the ledge, they’ll be in a prime position to rain things down on my head or unload a crossbow bolt or two right into my face.
And I like my face as it is, thank you very much.
Fuck, Goldy, you’ve really put yourself in a bad one, this time, I tell myself.
I’m aware! Think you can contribute something useful? If not, shut the hell up!
Yeah, I like to have conversations with myself. Hey, there’s truth to that old saying about ‘being your own best friend’, right? Well, at this moment, I’m pretty ticked off with my best friend because she left me in a shitty situation, without many options.
What to do, what to do, what to do…
I stare out at the pitiless winter sky, wishing for the millionth time I’d been born a member of the Order of Corvid, like my adopted brothers. If that had been the case, I could just take the form of an overgrown jay, raven, or rook and fly away from this fucking place. Instead, I’m earthbound. And that leaves me with only one real chance at escaping.
There are more big oak trees just below me. If I aim right, I could snatch a limb on the way down, swing off the limb like a trapeze artist and hit the ground hard, but not fatally so. I know how to land. And I know how to roll. I just wouldn’t be very good at fending off two hungry man-bears who want to tear out my throat.
Well, fuckety-fuck, Goldy, what’s it gonna be?
This is going to tear up my hands even more so than they already are, but that’s a small price to pay for a clean getaway.
Yep, I’ve made up my mind and I’m going for it.
I’m preparing my leap when the first of the shifters clambers onto the top of the wall with me. Him! All six-foot-enormous of him! What the hell is the idiot thinking? He’s a fucking bear, not a tightrope walker!
“I hope you fall off!” I yell at him, just… because.
He doesn’t say anything but as I watch him, he seems somehow…balanced and graceful on his feet. With a nervous gulp, I adjust my measure of his height. Six-nine or six-ten, shorter by only a few inches from the tallest shifter I’ve met to date.
Oh, ye Gods! Look at that cock!
Yeah, he’s completely nude, and I don’t really do well around naked men. I just… I’m not used to them, that’s all. And now I’m totally off-guard for a few stunned seconds. And this fucking naked man-ballerina is making his way towards me as if he’s not afraid at all of falling off this fucking wall.
His tan, muscled torso gleams lightly with sweat and my blood has caked on his face, in an arc around each of his eyes so he looks like some kind of weird, naked mime or a weird, naked raccoon. I can’t keep my eyes from tracking downward, tracing the contours of his abdomen down to his...
Dear God. That thing… there should be a warning sign tacked to it.
I have to yank my eyes away from the sight of the very full and very large cock that nestles against his thigh. I have to imagine the winter air is painfully cold on his bare skin, but it’s not dissuading the monster between his legs. I’ve only ever seen one other cock in my life, and it was similarly large and belonged to a dragon shifter. Are all men built like this—with enormous man meat? If so, I think I’ll be holding onto my virginity until the end of my days.
Which won’t be too much longer if you don’t hurry the fuck up, Goldilocks, I remind myself with a bewildered shake of my head which sets my golden curls bouncing all over the place.
“Can’t you cover yourself with something?” I yell out at him as I start forward again.
“Yes, I’ll soon be wearing your fucking skin!” he yells back in a Scandinavian accent, voice deep and angry. “I’m going to skin you from head to toe, thief!”
I don’t look back, but I can hear the sound of his steps. He continues his advance, taking slow, measured strides toward me. I glance back to get a read on his proximity.
Black shiny hair atop his head, he’s long of limb, bulging with ready muscle, scars and burns crisscrossing his biceps and forearms. He’s got a square, heavy jaw; a narrow, aquiline nose; and captivating brown eyes. They narrow on me, watching me dither on the edge of the wall like some frightened damsel.
“Hand over the Ambrosia and you don’t have to die,” Black Bear’s companion says as he pulls himself onto the ledge, his voice a deep rumble like distant thunder. His slate-gray hair is an odd contrast to the rest of him, giving the impression of advanced age, while his body looks like it could belong to that of a young blacksmith.
His presence doesn’t trouble me unduly. The ledge is narrow, and, if I’m lucky, at least one of them will fall off and die a slow and miserable death.
“Not a chance!” I’ve worked too hard and there’s too much at stake to give up now.
Gray-Bear’s mouth screws into a tight line. “I’m only going to give you one more chance to hand the Ambrosia over now and I’ll extend my leniency.” So he must be the one in charge?
“F
ail to comply,” Black Bear adds. “And there’ll be lots of fucking pain and even more death.”
I pause at that one and scrunch up my face as I glance back at him. “How can there be even more death?” I call, shaking my head. “You can only die once.”
He frowns at me and I just offer him a shrug and a smile to say I know I’ve bested his argument. As to his threat… Pain, I can handle. And death is a risk I’m willing to take.
So I shove my hand once more into the satchel and grope around until I find the hilt of a broadsword. I draw the sword from its jeweled scabbard before bringing it forth from the bag.
“You want the Ambrosia, beary-bears, come and get it,” I challenge, raising the sword to its ready position. It’s not my preferred weapon, but it will do. I just have to fell these fuckers and then I’ll be free. And maybe I’ll wear their fur since Black-Bear made that overly rude comment about wearing my skin.
“Last chance, girl,” Black-Bear says and he’s now maybe six feet from me.
“Stop stallin’, Nash,” the second one growls, his hazel eyes glaring murder at me.
“When we reach you, we’re going to split open your belly with our claws and watch your insides trail to the ground!” Black-Bear, otherwise known as Nash, yells at me.
“Is that part of the extra death I was promised?” I respond with a little giggle. I like it when my comments are wittier than those of my enemies.
Nash takes another step forward and I strike with my sword, carving a furrow into his bicep. The blade goes in deep, but he doesn’t cry out. He’s a tough motherfucker, more so than I expect. He continues forward, and lashes out at me. I duck his swing, dancing back a few steps to stay out of reach.
Yeah, that wasn’t such a great idea because I find myself balancing precariously on the edge of the wall, one boot threatening to step out into open air. One shove is all it would take to end me right here and now.
