Locked

By Penelope Wren

It's hard to be a green witch when you're surrounded by all this stone.

I've lived practically my entire life in a high-rise tower, a side-effect of my parents ticking off an evil witch before I was born. But don't tell Mother I called her evil, she scares me more than a little bit. With her as my guardian, good company is scarce. All I've got are my plants, my talking cat and my blog. And Mother isn't exactly fond of any of them.

Especially since the latter introduced me to three ridiculously gorgeous half-elves, and I've fallen for all three of them. Kinden, the mage security specialist who never fails to make me smile. Rifyr, the rogue-turned-locksmith whose physical beauty almost hurts. And Sorrel, the hunter who uses his skills to track down works of art, and whose heart is so pure he rekindles my faith in the world.

Things start getting hairy when we decide to meet in person. As it turns out, Mother hates it when I sneak hot guys into the tower, go figure.

So now we have to figure out a way to get both me and my cat out of the tower without blowing everything up. Wait… did I forget to mention the threat of arcane annihilation if I were to leave the tower? Right… I always forget that part…

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This full-length, steamy Reverse Harem Romance is a modern fairytale, full of magic, whimsy, talking animals, and an evil villain who tries to ruin everything. Follow Rapunzel's journey from captive to independent witch in this stand-alone novel by Penelope Wren.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Penelope Wren
• Release date: Jun 29, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201629939

Book preview

Chapter One

Zelle

long-hair-dont-care

About the blogger:

I'm twenty-two years young, just about the greenest witch you could ever meet… if you could meet me, that is. I'm locked in a high-rise in the city by the witch who raised me. My parents owed her something or whatever, you know the story, right? She owns me, and while most witches set their wards free when they come of age, Mother must just really like having me around, because here I still am!

I blog about plants. About my cat, Basil. About anything, really.

I'm really nothing special. But I'd like to think all of you are! Let's talk!

Low connectivity, my tablet read, the screen glowing in the darkness of my living room.

No shit, I muttered, Basil stirring beside me with a soft feline grumble. He rubbed the top of his head against my hip, his yellow eyes opening to gaze up at me.

Language… he chastised, before yawning and stretching his legs.

Wasn't talking to you, I said softly, trying for the billionth time to search for a wi-fi signal that wasn't going to show up.

Narrowing my eyes, I glared at the tablet screen. It wasn't going to work. Mother had it turned off. And I wasn't exactly skilled in network magic, so here I was. All alone, in the dark.

Well, the darkness really was of my own choosing. I could turn on the light, but the unnatural glare from these bulbs did more harm than good when I couldn't get access to regular sunshine and fresh air. The windows that lined each and every wall of the entire apartment were no help either, all of them were fakes, just mirrors enchanted to give the appearance of outside. And since Mother had turned all of those off too, it was either sit in the dark, or sit in a room and stare at myself.

And judging by the way my hair felt when I ran my fingers through it, I didn't want to stare at myself. I'd kind of given up on hygiene for the past couple of days. And with hair as long as mine, skipping an opportunity to brush wasn't exactly a possibility.

I inhaled audibly, scratching Basil behind his ears and feeling a warmth flood over me when he started to purr. He was the only one who saw me, anyway. Otherwise I was completely alone up here.

'Here' was the tower. I didn't even know whereabouts in the city I was. The enchanted mirrors changed every week or so, shuffling through random landscapes. It was easy to forget that I was even in a city if I never went out to my sunroom.

And I hadn't gone out there at all for nearly two weeks.

It was horrible.

I supposed that the entire unfortunate ordeal was technically my fault. I had been the one to bad-mouth Mother on my blog.

It was stupid of me, really. I knew Mother read through my blog posts in the evenings. Read through the comments, read through all of it. And I had written nasty things about her before. But I'd always deleted them immediately. It was a kind of catharsis. A release.

I could unleash my venom to the world and then take it back. Unfortunately, this most recent time, I'd fallen asleep soon after unleashing my venom and had forgotten to take it back, leaving the scathing post for Mother and everyone to see.

And she had most definitely seen it.

I wasn't sure of much, but I knew for a fact I would never cross Mother again. Not when she held my very life in her hands.

Well… 'life' was probably too dramatic a term. 'Powers' was a better one. Or maybe even 'energy'. The long and short of it was, I wouldn't die without exposure to the outside, but my powers wouldn't work.

I'd been grounded from both my sunroom and the internet for my little dissension.

I knew which one should have hurt worse, but I also knew which one actually hurt worse.

I glared at the inactive tablet in my hands, trying to will it to connect to something. Even if it was just for a moment. Just long enough for me to tap out three messages.

It was like torture, knowing that Kinden, Rifyr, and Sorrel were probably trying to message me. To ask me where I was. Probably worrying about me.

And there was nothing I could do to let them know I was okay.

I wanted to cry. But that was nearly all I'd done for the past fortnight, and quite frankly, I was tired of it.

I should have known better, honestly. Mother never minced her words around me. She never even tried to sugar-spell anything at all. I had known what the consequences were before I had misbehaved. But I had still done it.

Almost like I was testing her or something. Even though I knew what she was capable of.

She never forgot anything. Never forgave a grudge. It was the whole reason I was locked in this tower, for gods' sakes.

"Zelle, can we please turn on a light?" Basil asked, rubbing against my shoulder as he walked along the arm of the chair. I couldn't see him in the darkness save for his yellow eyes, catching the dulling light from my tablet screen and refracting it times a hundred. For such an old cat, he still had the brightest eyes.

Why do you care? I asked. "You can see in the dark."

"Yes, but you can't. And you really should turn on a light and go take a look at yourself, he sniffed, perching himself on the end of the couch arm to begin grooming himself in what was most likely a passive aggressive manner. Run a brush through that mop on your head."

Scoffing, I tossed the tablet onto the other end of the couch and stood, walking towards the doorway. I had to make a short leap to avoid the babbling brook that ran through the entire apartment and I cursed as I stubbed my toe on the door frame.

That wasn't a good sign. I wasn't clumsy by nature. I could usually gauge where everything was even with my eyes closed. Either my powers had been depleted lower than ever and my body was trying to compensate, or I'd simply stopped caring.

I raised my hand, snapping my fingers and not getting so much as a flicker out of the lights.

I swore under my breath. My powers really were weak. It was lucky that tomorrow was the end of my punishment, or I might not be able to muster enough energy to even get out of bed.

I fumbled around on the wall, finding the switch Mother had placed there. I'd always thought it was kind of silly to place a light switch in a witch's apartment, but now that I was thinking about it, this was likely the precise reason she had done so. It didn't make me feel any better, having to resort to non-magical ways of doing things. Sure, the light was on, but at what cost?

The fake, fluorescent light flooded the hallway, illuminating my path from the living room to the bathroom. I simply followed the brook, keeping my eyes down so I could easy see where the shallow drop-off into the water was and not accidentally step into it and kill a magical goldfish or something. Also, any reason to halfway shield my eyes from the fake light was welcome.

The mirrors refracted it infinitely and regardless of how much I tried not to look directly into the lights, I felt a dull headache begin to pound right behind my eyes anyway.

There were no fake windows in the bathroom, thankfully, but I kept the light off all the same. There was no need to cause myself any more discomfort than I already was. I left the door wide open as I finally peered into the vanity mirror at my reflection.

My eyes were ringed with darkened skin. Sunken. Bloodshot. I looked like I felt, apparently. Like a green witch with no sun. No fresh air. Nothing except the filtered air that the vents blew throughout the entire apartment. My blue eyes were lackluster. My skin, normally pink and golden, was grayish and dull. My long, head-full of blonde waves looked like a rat's nest.

I was wearing the same shirt and leggings I had been wearing the day before. And possibly the day before that as well, I couldn't really remember.

Around my neck was the same locket that had always been there. Rose gold, matching chain, obsidian stone in the center. It looked tarnished in the dull light, as if even my jewelry was suffering the effects of my depleted powers.

Upon facing down my own horrid reflection, I thought back to my stubbed toe moments earlier and wondered if I hadn't just stopped caring.

Closing my eyes, I summoned up as much energy as I was able and aimed my fingertips at my head. The knots unraveled themselves, leaving me with a head of messy waves, but no more knots or tangles. Nothing a quick brushing wouldn't fix.

I picked up the brush from the vanity, running it through my super-long tresses and feeling the tiniest bit better for it.

Glancing behind me at the tub, I mentally flicked the tap and hummed as the tub began to fill with hot, soapy water.

Good, you're bathing. I love you and everything, Zelle, but you were getting kind of ripe… Basil quipped from the hallway.

You're one to talk, tuna breath… I muttered.

Ouch, he said, tilting his head up. At least I'm taking care of myself. Which is more than I can say about you.

You're easier to take care of than I am, I insisted.

No kidding. He pushed back on his hind legs, stretching his sleek, black-furred body in the process. I was starting to worry…

I'll be fine tomorrow when Mother lets me sunbathe again.

Basil's eyes narrowed at the mention of my guardian. I don't care for Mother's most recent punishment, Zelle.

I don't think you're supposed to, it's a punishment, after all.

No. You need fresh air more than most. She's supposed to be taking care of you.

She is! She's helping me be a better person, Baz.

"No. She's helping you be a better prisoner."

I rolled my eyes. Not this again. I know it sucks that we can't leave, but you know the law. I can't leave until she lets me. I have no family waiting for me, not a single penny to my name... besides, we have everything we could ever want here.

"Not right now we don't. You don't have sunlight. You don't have fresh air. You need the outdoors to charge your energy."

And next time I feel like bad-mouthing Mother on my blog, I can remember this and not do it. I can't bite the hand that feeds me, Basil. The hand that feeds us.

That analogy doesn't apply when it's the only hand you ever see, he countered.

"I am not arguing with my cat again. I'm taking a bath and washing my hair and I'm going to look fresh and not smelly when Mother gets here in the morning."

Fine, he replied, turning and prancing off in the direction of the kitchen.

Basil meant well, but he was a cat. And therefore, he was kind of inherently selfish. I had to forgive him for that.

He'd been my only company in this tower since I was a little girl. He'd lived with me as long as I could remember. The day he'd come here was one of the fondest in my memory. Probably because it was the day after one of the worst.

I was a difficult child, and as a result, Mother had found the need to punish me even back then. I supposed I must have deserved it then, too. But, she had found it in her heart to forgive me, and to even surprise me with a gift once my punishment had been served.

Mother had been thrilled to present me with a talking kitten that year at Yule. They were becoming increasingly hard to find. And it was pure dumb luck that she found him at all. He was solid black, with big yellow eyes. And he'd imprinted on me almost immediately. It was like we were made to be companions.

He'd certainly saved me from a life of nothing. A life of terrible loneliness. It was hard to be lonely when your best friend was literally curled up on your feet. I didn't know what I'd do without him.

I turned off the water, replacing the brush on the side of the vanity and quickly disrobing. Waving my hand, I quickly lit some candles, which nearly drained me despite being an everyday sort of task.

I eased my way into the bath, laying back and sighing with pleasure as my muscles began to relax and loosen. My hand went instinctively to my throat, to wind around the chain.

The locket was charmed to remain closed. I couldn't open it no matter how much I tried, but I knew what was inside without having to look.

A lock of hair. From my birth-mother. I'd seen it when Mother had given me the locket. Platinum blonde, nearly white, and curly. The locket had been my birth-mother's as well, one of the only things remaining that Mother hadn't destroyed or kept from me.

The locket and Mother's stories were really the only things I had from my birth parents. I didn't even know their surname. I was just Rapunzel. No last name.

But definitely not as cool as Cher or Prince. My magic wasn't nearly up to snuff.

I sunk deeper into the warm water and relaxed in near contentment.

The bubbles were calming. Lavender and mint. A touch of vanilla from the plant I was growing in my greenhouse.

My heart leapt at the opportunity to see them again. Oh, how I had missed my plants!

If there was one thing a green witch loved more than the sun and the wind and the rain, it was the plants she could grow using them. The herbs that she lovingly raised from seed to seedlings. From seedlings to full grown plants. From those plants into potions and teas. Brews that helped one's mood improve. That helped everything from sore muscles to having a baby.

Not that I was in any market for the latter, mind.

But now that I thought about it, I wondered how different it might have been if I had been the witch my parents had encountered on that fateful evening and not Mother. I had no use for someone's first born child. I would have asked for something simple. Tuna steaks for Basil. Milk from a real cow, and not the stuff I conjured from hemp or almonds.

And they might still be alive, my parents. Not dead in a horrific fire that had consumed them when they'd attempted to hide me from Mother.

They weren't very smart people, but they had loved me. Mother had always insisted upon that. My stupid parents had loved me very much.

I let myself sink beneath the bubbles and water, let the warmth flood over me. With my eyes closed, I could pretend it was the sun. I could pretend for a moment that I wasn't in the insufferable darkness that I had been for the past two weeks.

But I had to breathe, unfortunately. And I rose back up out of the water, gulping in the air and gazing around my darkened bathroom.

The hall light flooded the floor and the glow from the candles actually made it possible for my eyes to focus without straining.

But it wasn't the same.

I needed the sun. Like I needed fresh air.

And I needed an internet connection.

I just knew my blog was going crazy with me gone for two weeks. What would my readers think? Me disappearing with no word?

I'd cycled through this same vortex of spiralling thoughts the entire time I'd been locked inside, and I wasn't fooling anyone, least of all, myself.

There were three readers that I really cared about. Kinden. Rifyr. Sorrel. I called them 'my guys' when I was running short on time or breath. They were the three I talked to the most. The three I had grown closest to.

The three I truly was worried about losing.

The three who were probably the most worried about me.

And me, I worried too. Worried I'd lose them. That I'd come back online tomorrow to find out they'd gotten tired of waiting and had moved on.

I knew, in the back of my mind, how unimportant that worry was in the grand scheme of things, and how unconducive to my mental well-being it was. So, I tried to think about something else. Anything else.

I made a face. My daily post average was going to be messed up for sure.

Okay, so blog stats weren't exactly the most important thing to be thinking about at a time like this, but the mind tended to focus on the mundane to avoid thinking about the big picture.

And my big picture was so limited anyway… it was probably better to worry about the mundane things.

I reached for the shampoo bottle, my powers already so weak that I knew too much of a spark would drain them completely, leaving me almost unable to drag myself to bed. So I washed my hair as a non-magical person would.

With my hands.

It felt good, scratching my fingernails over