Twist: A Fairy Tale Awakening (Spindlewind Trilogy Book Two)

by Genevieve Raas

  I stepped back. What he spoke was dangerous.

  “A being as you shouldn’t care what these monsters do. Their lives are heartbeats to you.”

  He stepped towards me.

  “But it is an unceasing, and irritating pulse. Free will destroys their joy and leads them to madness and pain. Free will is a power they do not deserve nor want.”

  “I highly doubt that,” I said.

  “Let me explain,” a pomegranate appeared in his hand. “Life is like this pomegranate. Beautiful. Delicate. As fate, I can only show humanity how best to enjoy this precarious fruit. How to safely slice through the skin. How to savor the jewels inside. But they never listen. Instead, I am forced to watch as they dig their dirty nails into the flesh. Tear at the pulp and claw into the seeds until the fruit is left resembling a broken heart.”

  “Why do you care how they consume their lives?”

  “Because I am tired of their blame. Their hatred. After they destroy the gift and look at their empty, broken shell, I am blamed for their misfortune. Cursing destiny is much easier than admitting their own faults. No more. I will make everything neat and tidy. And then, I will give them what they truly crave: Destiny. Glory. Direction. A life devoid of regret.”

  He looked around the room and shook his head, as if pointing out my own obvious remorse.

  “All this because you have hurt feelings?” I gave a laugh, trying to shake away the chill. “This sounds like it is your problem and not mine. Besides, I make my living on others making stupid choices. Removing free will would be counterintuitive for business.”

  He sighed and crossed his arms, as if growing frustrated.

  “I thought you of all people would see the benefit. What gifts has free will given you?” he asked. “Free will allowed Edward the choice of murdering your family. Free will gave Laila the choice to send herself into the Furies’ embrace. Free will placed you right before me now. And why? Because as the entirety of humanity, reason became subject to your desire.”

  “Don’t compare me to the rest of the world,” I said. “I am not like them.”

  Fate raised his eyebrow.

  “Really? You are the worst of them all.”

  His pointed cheekbones smoothed and rounded. His thin lips plumped and his eyes widened. Blonde hair spiraled in long curls past his shoulders, while his chiseled chest softened into two breasts. A sheer black gown rippled past forming curves, revealing the woman I lost myself to.

  “That’s much better,” Fate said. “Those broad shoulders would never do this gown justice.”

  A cold sweat broke out across my flesh. I thought I would be ill.

  “You sadistic fuck.”

  My mind became a torrent of images and sensations I wished I could erase. The memory of her lips against my own, of Fate’s lips...It all crashed down on me. Fate had now made me his in every way. Physically. Emotionally. Intimately.

  Rage roared like a tempest in my chest.

  I leapt towards Fate gripping my fingers around her silken neck, but my strength was no match for her. She grabbed my arms and threw me to the ground. A feminine laugh quaked deep from within her.

  “You always wanted to fuck me over, and now you complain that you have?” Fate asked, tossing her blonde curls. “You weren’t bad, actually. Take that as a compliment from a being whose had all sorts of lovers.”

  My hands clenched into fists, and my body trembled with disgust at her. At myself. I wanted to peel away my skin, anything that she touched to stop feeling so utterly dirty. Defiled.

  “You foul hell demon,” I said through gritted teeth.

  Chuckling, she picked up an empty bobbin and stroked the dips and angles with those glossy red, pointed fingernails. I wanted to retch remembering the pleasure they gave me as they scraped down my back.

  “You see, even you are susceptible to becoming a monster of free will. Free will is your enemy, not destiny. Not me.” Her eyes glowed with exhilaration.

  Through my horror I saw that Fate wanted me to break. Wanted me broken all along until I became willingly and fully her’s. If I retained any hope of succeeding, I had to keep strong.

  “Congratulations, you’ve made your point,” I growled. “But, what you are describing is madness. It is a danger to be left with pure order. You need a drop of chaos. That is how the universe functions. Free will is the knot in the string that keeps this balance.”

  She bristled, and her grip tightened and the bobbin fractured to pieces.

  “Always hung up on details,” she said. “Stop thinking about thread and see the opportunity I am presenting.”

  “Which is?” I asked.

  “To be a god.”

  My body stiffened and I choked out of shock. It’s one thing to be granted power. To be given immortality. But to be made a deity, a thing out of space and time, that is something else entirely.

  “I see that got your attention,” she said, grabbing hold of the wheel again. “You will have ultimate control and can create and alter destinies at will. I am offering you the choice no other has ever been offered: to spin the fates of others.” She ran her hand down the wheel, and a rutty hum sang from the spokes.

  I knew the man I used to be would have jumped at the opportunity before me. But now, I didn’t want any of it. I couldn’t let Fate’s madness I already suffered ripple out into the world.

  “I don’t want to spin the fates of others,” I said. “True, free will led me into your trap. Free will let Edward choose to destroy my family and Laila choose to destroy herself. But beneath the gore and destruction is hope. Hope your notion of predestination doesn’t allow.”

  She paused, allowing the spokes and gears to come to a stop.

  “Do you not understand what I am proposing?” she asked.

  “I understand you are out of your damn mind,” I responded. “I am in charge, and if I fail, it will be my choice, not fate. Not destiny. Free will allows me hope. Free will allows me to fight you, and I will never stop fighting you.”

  She lunged at me, twisting her fingers into my shirt. She pulled me against her, and her face hardened with a violent wildness

  “You are just like them! No vision at all,” she roared.

  “Them?”

  Her anger weakened. She loosened her grip, and I ripped my shoulders away.

  “My sisters,” she spat, turning on her heels. She placed her finger beneath her nose, and paced. “They had a similar reaction when I told them my wish.”

  “You are asking a lot,” I said.

  “They didn’t even try to consider the possibilities. ‘Against nature’ they said. That’s all they ever said.”

  Her face looked as if it would crack like porcelain, a crazed hunger glowing off her skin. I’d never seen Fate this disoriented by anger.

  Shimmering beneath her rage was a chip. A glimmer of a weakness. A chip was all I needed.

  She thought she could use my past to destroy me? I chuckled inwardly, seeing how obviously the past was destroying her.

  “That sounds disappointing,” I said, hungering for anything I might use against her.

  She snapped her gaze back onto me as she approached the spinning wheel, her gown picking up twigs of straw behind her.

  “We were the most powerful beings in all worlds and realms. We brought entire kingdoms to their knees, and yet, we couldn’t do as we wished. My naive sisters believed we were caretakers, upholding the infection that is free will. In the meantime, as I watched humanity worship golden calves and blame us when the rains didn’t come, I knew we were fools.”

  “You’ve never spoken of them before,” I said, coaxing.

  “We were supposed to be a family, but they wouldn’t understand. They rather betray me. Now they can no longer interfere.”

  “Why is that?”

  I remained hopeful her pride would let her reveal more, but she ignored me.

  “I’ve been forced to wait a thousand years to take my chance again. I will not miss it.” />
  Her gaze somewhere distant, she leaned her cheek against the wheel and caressed the spokes.

  “Clotho spun the thread of life on this wheel. Lachesis measured the thread, and then I cut where that life should end. There must always be three. A family. The Moirai. I scoured the universe for the right match for Clotho’s place. You, Rumpelstiltskin. I want you to join me, then we can be the family we were always meant to be.”

  The hair on the back of my neck raised.

  “Tell me as many sad stories as you wish,” I said. “I want no part of your fake family.”

  She lifted off the wheel, her eyes narrowing and features pointing. She dipped her hand into the depths of her skirts and pulled out those gruesome scissors of hers. The torchlight gleamed off of their deep silver. They looked barbaric clutched in her fingers, their sharpened point waiting to cut flesh. My palm pounded remembering their last kiss.

  A clear sound like crystal rang out as she opened them and pressed the sharpened blade against my cheek.

  “So brave,” she said, pushing the point into my flesh. “I’ve tried asking nicely. I’ve tried letting you see reason on your own.”

  “Sorry to disappoint,” I replied.

  She pressed it deeper until I felt its bite.

  “You’ve forgotten what I am capable of.”

  “Are you going to kill me with a pair of crafting scissors?” I mocked, hoping she didn’t notice the sweat on my forehead. “Slashing throats seems a bit rudimentary for such an ancient being.”

  She pulled the blade down enough to make me hiss in pain. Warm liquid trickled down my face and I knew it was my own blood.

  “These are for far more than cutting flesh and pretty paper,” she replied. “These scissors cut where life should end, and it ends how I wish. I am Atropos, the fate of death. Were you not paying attention earlier? Perhaps an example would get it into that stubborn brain of yours.”

  Her soft cheeks hardened with masculinity and her hair shortened. Broad shoulders of firm muscle tore through the gown. The man I knew as Fate stood before me again, wearing his signature black trousers and white shirt.

  He made for a side door and threw it open. The hinges screamed as if they hadn’t been opened in years, but they were nothing to the screams coming from inside.

  That familiar desperation I had felt earlier crashed down on me now. A flame blazed hot and it was not a dream or the byproduct of a game. It lived and wanted. My heart quickened, and my throat went dry.

  It couldn’t be possible.

  Fate dragged a woman out from behind the door, clutching his fingers into her matted, chestnut hair.

  “Here is your example,” Fate said, throwing her down.

  Her palms skidded across the flint and her knees cracked hitting the rock.

  The woman breathed heavily, her face turned down towards the stone. Her fingers dug into the mortar, as if preparing to resist being dragged back to her cell.

  “What have you done?” I seethed, kneeling down besides the woman. Scabs and bruises speckled her knuckles. Cuts tore through the fraying fabric of her gown, as if shredded by the claws of some creature.

  My heart rushed in my ears. Fear took hold crumbling my strength. I’d been fooled once already. The thought I had to touch her, to check, was almost unacceptable.

  “Blamed again,” Fate replied. “I’ve done nothing. You see the results of her own torment. This place has not been as kind to her as you. Those ravaged by guilt and unable to forget the past usually don’t fare well here. I suppose I needn’t tell you that. Look where we are now thanks to your own inabilities to move on. We are only back in this dungeon because of your own remorse. At least she will be already used to the view.”

  I stared at the crumpled creature on the floor. Her gaze remained frozen on the ground, but the flame in her soul blazed. Spoke to me, just as it had so many years ago.

  I stretched out my hand towards her, my fingers trembling as if trying to touch the mist of a ghost. Lifting her chin I gasped as her battered eyes locked on my own.

  Laila.

  Unequivocally.

  Purple bruises painted her skin. A cut of congealed blood clung to the corner of her mouth. Though it was hard to see the woman who had enraptured me so completely beneath the blue and black, she was still there. Un-aged. As if time had forgotten her.

  Her gaze narrowed, and hope mixed with anger boiled in her eyes.

  “You,” she rasped.

  She tensed beneath my touch. I begrudgingly let my hand fall away. I didn’t want to cause her any further distress.

  “You must give her time to warm up to you again,” Fate said. “She has had nineteen years to think on what you did to her. Perhaps she finally realized the type of man you truly are.”

  I stood and faced Fate. Everything in me yearned to destroy him.

  “You let me believe she was dead.”

  “I never said she was dead. I said she wasn’t at the party above, and she wasn’t. She was here,” he said. “Of course it took a bit of coaxing, but the Furies ended up being quite accommodating.” Fate bent down and grabbed Laila’s chin. He squeezed into her skin, turning her head left and then right as if admiring her complexion. “She should be grateful, really. Not devoured and not looking a day over twenty-one.”

  I grasped Fate’s arm and tore it away from Laila’s jaw, causing Laila to make a sound from the back of her throat.

  “You’ve kept her a prisoner!” I shouted, clenching his wrist tighter.

  Fate pulled out of my grip and turned away.

  “And here I thought you’d be pleased she’s alive after all. I expected you’d be thrilled I spared your love.”

  “He isn’t my love,” Laila choked out. “I see now he never was.”

  My heart sunk, but what other sentiment could I have expected?

  “That is a great pity,” Fate said. “If that’s truly the case, then what I’m about to do won’t be half so satisfying.”

  “Let her go,” I demanded. “She can be of no use to you.”

  Fate smiled wickedly.

  “That’s where you’re wrong. The visions of her were a great motivation for you to finally come and play, but why would I play my ace when I needed it now most of all?”

  He charged Laila and twisted his fingers into her hair, tugging hard. Laila screamed and flailed. She kicked Fate’s knee, but Fate was not about to let himself be beaten by a mortal.

  Gripping her hair tighter, he pulled Laila’s head back and placed his free hand over her heart. Her heart that now pounded in my head begging for my help.

  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he started to sink his fingers into her chest. Her pleading pounded within me now.

  All thought but Laila gone from my mind, I lunged at him. His hand drew back out of her and Laila fell to the ground, clapping against the stone.

  Gripping his arms I shoved him into the wall. He gritted his teeth and pushed back. My boots slipped backwards over the stone, but I kept pressing into him. I wouldn’t let him touch her again.

  “You will not make her part of this!” I yelled.

  “Again, always blaming me!” he bellowed. “You made her part of this the moment you coaxed her father into bragging about his daughter that could spin straw into gold.”

  Bitterness washed over me, cold and cutting, that he was right. I dug deeper into his hard flesh. I wanted to cause him pain, but gripping his arms were like gripping stone. He was immovable. Unbreakable.

  We were two beings locked in battle, and I knew I could not win by strength alone.

  Only one way out remained. I let up and he came at me with such great force we struck against the opposite wall. Our mutual anger blurred into fists and kneecaps. Jabs and scratches and blood. In the flurry of emotion, I dove into his pockets hoping to find what I wanted.

  “Enough!” He shouted. He shot a beam of white power into me, blowing me back into the floor. My back spasmed but the pain was not strong enough to
keep me from smiling.

  “Do you really think you can win against me?” Fate asked.

  I stood, my bones cracking. I held up the potion he stole in my hand, my way out. Fate’s smile vanished, replaced by shocked fury.

  “I might not be able to win, but I can choose not to play,” I said.

  His hands reached out for me like claws. My only concern was Laila who remained slumped against the wall. I only had seconds.

  I skidded towards her and gripped her arm. Unstopping the potion, I downed the bottle. Fate grasped at my shirt, but his fingers fell through as if we were ghosts.

  The world swirled. The world spun. Dream melted away.

  Fate’s curses rang in my ear as he and the dungeon disintegrated. I tightened my grasp on Laila.

  “I will find you both, Rumpelstiltskin,” he screamed, his voice echoing. Livid. “You cannot escape me.”

  My palm blistered with his rage, agony searing up my arm. I clenched my teeth and held Laila closer against me. She was all that mattered now, and she was safe.

  But as the potion lingered on my tongue, I knew something was wrong.

  Chapter Seven

  Knot:

  noun: a fastening made by looping a piece of string, rope, or something on itself and tightening it

  noun: an unpleasant feeling of tightness or tension in a part of the body

  TRISTAN

  I found myself immersed in a world that only hours before existed purely as ink strokes on the page. Instead of seeing the sun through a window, I felt its raw warmth on my skin. Wind rippled through my hair and the scent of grass was a welcome change to beef stew and smoke. I was finally part of a vibrant world. A living world.

  Manure dissolved the freshness as I entered my first village. Nature yielded to stone and mortar. Shouts and chatter rumbled within my ears. Sharp structures that cut into the sky overtook the rolling meadows that softly kissed the horizon.

  Navigating the streets I couldn’t help but stare at the angled roofs and painted walls. Reds, blues, yellows, all manner of colors decorated the white plaster reminding me of the illuminated manuscripts Pater brought me from his journeys.