Home > Books > A Ruin of Roses (Deliciously Dark Fairytales #1)(34)

A Ruin of Roses (Deliciously Dark Fairytales #1)(34)

Author:K.F. Breene

“Thank you for the cautionary tale.”

When we reached the second floor, he pointed to the left, and we headed through a grand room out of a picture book. It was gorgeous, with large red curtains draping the massive windows, golden trimming, and cream walls playing host to oil paintings. Large chandeliers hung down from above, all the candles within burned nubs. I wondered if they burned those down every night or had just never replaced them. I wasn’t sure how many demons loitered in this place at night. I was a little afraid to find out.

“Where do the demons sleep during the day?” I asked. In the village, they all retreated to a house they’d taken over at the far end of town. They hunkered down in darkened rooms, waiting for the daylight to disappear. The sun didn’t kill them like it did vampires, but it sapped their power. Only the very powerful walked around during the day.

“They are in the dungeons. Nasty fuckers. Why choose to lie low in such a vile place, you know? Then again, I guess they can shut themselves in. Maybe they’re worried one of us will try to drag them into the sun and kill them all. Who knows. Not like the master would let us.”

A man walking in the opposite direction slowed when he saw me. He beamed and waved before ripping his floppy hat off his head and holding it to this chest.

“Oh, go fuck a donkey, Liron,” Hadriel called, waving the man away. “Don’t draw attention to her.”

“Eat my ass,” Liron said with a snarl before smiling at me and bowing.

After we passed him, Hadriel murmured, “That guy fucks up every single threesome you try to get started. He literally does not know where to put his dick. He just walks around parties with his cock in his hand. He’d be creepy if he ever did more than look on with that dumb expression on his face.”

“I can hear you,” Liron yelled in a shrill voice, now continuing down the hall.

“Like it matters,” Hadriel called back. He rolled his eyes. “Clearly nothing wrong with his hearing. If you ever find yourself in an intimate situation with that guy, watch your arsehole. Because that guy will cornhole you. He will fucking cornhole you! All the ladies say so. One time I was giving head, and he just randomly walked up and tried to stick me in the ass. Only he missed and fell over me. Like—who does that, you know?”

My mouth had dropped open. I needed those pearls. I needed something to clutch. This was starting to get a little crazy.

He must’ve noticed, because he waved it away. “It’s fine. You won’t be out at night, anyway. If someone tried to fuck you, the master would probably rip his dick off and feed it to him.”

“Is this how all of you talk?”

He laughed. “Oh, love, aren’t you cute?” He looked skyward. “Remember when I thought talking like this was gross? Neither do I. Boy are you in for a world of crazy. This place is frozen in time with a bunch of single adults. Pregnancy doesn’t exist—not in the castle. Only the master can impregnate a woman, and then only his true mate. That’s it. The curse has shut everything else down. Add in the demons and their sex magic and endless quantities of alcohol, and that, my love, is a recipe for bad decisions and disaster. Dis-aster! The demons have steered this ship. Anyone who tries to turn the tide lands themselves in an accident that they don’t walk away from. We’re adrift. Only the master has been able to avoid all the sex stuff, and that’s because he has a will of iron. Of absolute iron. I don’t know how he does it. The rest of us… Well, this is our life. Welcome to it.”

“You keep getting darker and darker.”

“Yeah, right? I wasn’t ever a ray of fucking sunshine, but I had my moments. Anyway, we have a shitload of hobbies here. After the master is done with you, I can walk you through them all and see what you might want to do. That assclown Liron teaches watercolors, if you want to give that a go. It’s not as boring if you’re drinking.”

“I’m not a painter, I don’t think.”

“Neither am I. I painted pictures of penises. I couldn’t even get that right. He kept commenting on my finished product, thinking I’d painted a bouquet of flowers or something. But really he was complimenting me on a bunch of dicks. I kept going back just for that. Eventually someone told on me and ruined all my fun.”

I chuckled helplessly as he opened the door leading outside and waited for me to go through.

“One thing of note,” he said, pointing at a wide set of stairs that had been freshly painted. We stepped down to a natural rise in the countryside, the base covered in colorful tiles that hosted a round wood table and matching chairs. Brown and brittle grass led away to a patch of trees much tamer than the Forbidden Wood. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but…well, I’m going to. If you plan to rebel against the master and leave your room at night, you should go to the salon. It takes place in the early evening before all the major stuff kicks off. It’s the safest activity for you.”

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