Forbidden (A New Adult Paranormal Romance) by Dawn Steele

several of her teeth were missing.
    “Exquisite,” Gretel said. She grasped Snow White’s chin with her sharp, scarlet-lacquered fingernails and turned it this way and that. “Amazing bone structure. Hips a little narrow, but she’ll do. Where did you find such a prize, brother?”
    “Excuse me,” Snow White interrupted, struggling in Hansel’s iron grasp, “but I don’t care to be examined like a cow.”
    Gretel ignored her and continued her inspection. She grabbed Snow White’s breasts through her tunic and squeezed them roughly, measuring their size and firmness. Snow White gasped. She wasn’t used to anyone fondling her.
    “Why, you – ” she began, but gasped again when Gretel dove for her crotch.
    “Long story, sister, but Gorm won’t be returning for a while, so it will be for you and me to ascend several notches in Mother Baron’s favor.”
    “Her favorite has finally fled the roost?”
    “Let’s hope so.”
    Gretel seemed unconvinced. “He has returned before. And each time, she welcomes him like the prodigal he is.”
    “No matter.” Hansel caught his sister’s faraway look. “You’ve been lost in your thoughts a lot more lately, little sister. What is it?”
    Snow White was aware of an undercurrent here, but it was not something she could grasp at the moment.
    “Think nothing of it.” Gretel’s face turned impassive again. She pinched Snow White’s arm, not unkindly. “She looks a little thin. Not to our taste. For supper tonight I have snared us a tender young virgin, only seven years old, plump and milk fed. It will be a feast well deserved.”
    Despite her self-admonition to be strong in the face of danger, Snow White felt her stomach turn.
    “Come with me, child. Mother Baron awaits,” Gretel said. She reminded Snow White of a stone wall.
    She led Snow White down several passages swathed in damask, followed by a watchful Hansel. Every time Snow White stumbled, Hansel propped her roughly up. The bruises continued to accumulate beneath her skin. I must resemble a blue-and-black patchwork, she rued.
    They entered a hall with crystal chandeliers and lighted wall sconces. A carpet that must have deteriorated the eyesights of a thousand weavers covered the entire floor, its red-and-black motifs too complicated to follow. An extremely old woman lay on a plush, high bed swathed with pillows. The bed sat upon a dais where you might expect to find a throne. A very strong scent of roses emanated from the woman, mixed with the smell of feces and decay. Several fat leeches sat on her exposed, skeletal arms.
    The old woman’s eyes were bright. Two pregnant handmaidens propped her back up with two equally pregnant pillows.
    “My children.” The old woman held out her wavering arms. Several leeches dropped off.
    Hansel and Gretel immediately swarmed to the old woman, devotion spilling from their gestures. Hansel clasped the old woman’s right hand while Gretel stroked her left. The handmaidens glared.
    “Grandmother,” remarked one, “you shouldn’t exhaust yourself.”
    “Nonsense,” the old woman said gaily. Her voice wheezed like wind in a reed. “I will always have time for my children and their little ones. Each one of you is more precious to me than my life blood itself.”
    Some of that life blood was leaking out onto the white sheets, courtesy of the leeches. So this was the infamous Mother Baron. Mother to murderers, rapists and brigands. Despite her fearsome stature, Snow White could feel the warmth emanating from the old woman and the love in her eyes as she gazed upon her adopted children. She hastily swallowed the lump that was threatening to form in her throat.
    Mother Baron turned her wrinkled face to Snow White. “My word, Gretel, what a treasure you’ve brought me.”
    “It was actually I who found her, Mother Baron,” Hansel said.
    Gretel shot him a frosty glare.
    “Why are her hands tied up? Release her bonds immediately, Hansel,” the old woman said in a