In a way, I was already well used to captivity.

At least my bruised neck felt better, and I no longer felt as if I’d pass out if another surprise appeared.

The past three days had given me plenty of time to go over my situation. I’d drawn a quick map of the estate from my hazy memories and couldn’t understand why there were so many separate buildings all connected with a network of gardens, corridors, and pathways.

The only explanation I could come up with was...this wasn’t the first time a bunch of women had been thrown in here. The sprawling accommodations were designed to...I didn’t know. Give each girl space? Provide a sense of safety? Separate her from the others so when Lucien and his panther went hunting, no one heard her screams?

I shivered and squeezed my eyes tighter.

You promised you weren’t going to think about it.

The only thing I should focus on was lowering the crazy amount of cortisol still in my system and finding a way to be somewhat normal. Once my heart no longer palpitated and I wasn’t borderline passing out, then I would be brave enough to return to the main palace, request an audience with a killer, and see if rational conversation could enable my release.

After all...it was Tuesday.

The spa weekend was only meant to be for a weekend.

God, Rook. How did anyone mistake you for a savant? You’re an idiot.

I exhaled heavily.

My ideas of walking out of this place were as fantastical as having a panther for a pet.

My ears twitched, latching onto a sound I hadn’t heard since the night in the ballroom.

Footsteps.

Soft and deliberately quiet as if someone was well used to stalking.

I had two choices.

Sit up and meet my end awake or...play dead and hope it didn’t hurt too much.

I hated my lack of courage as I forced my body to completely relax, sprawling on the grass like I didn’t have a care in the world. Softening my face and keeping my eyes closed, I focused on keeping my breathing low as a shadow fell over me.

Not a cloud.

Not a bird.

A shadow as tall and as cold as the Grim Reaper himself.

Something wet touched my hand, followed by the needling brushes of whiskers.

It took every trick to stay ‘asleep’ and not cower away from the quiet chuffing of the panther as it sniffed its way up my arm. Its huge paws caught in my long hair that I’d fanned above my head, the gentle tugging on my scalp sending a wash of goosebumps down my spine.

“Sleeping?” Lucien hissed, his voice barely above a pissed off whisper. “How the hell is she sleeping? Why isn’t she whimpering or plotting my demise like the others?”

The panther huffed as if replying, the heavy thuds of its paws circling me to return to the shadow’s side.

My heart pounded as the air changed, turning sharp and potent the longer Lucien stood over me. With a quiet curse, he padded toward my commandeered pavilion.

I sighed heavily as I had a short reprieve while he investigated whatever he’d come to see.

“She’s even eaten most of the food and drank the wine,” he muttered, his shadow returning to block my sun. The panther grumbled as if commiserating with my oddness, only for Lucien to add, “How does she even have an appetite?” He toed my ankle, our bare skin prickling with connection.

He must be barefoot again.

No wonder I’d barely heard him arrive.

“Where did they find such a useless spy?”

Spy?

There were spies now? Seducers and assassins and now spies?

Anyone with eyes could tell I didn’t fit into any of those categories.

My stomach tightened at how I must seem to him: a mentally unstable woman who’d made herself quite at home, stuffing her face, drinking her fill, and lounging about in a negligee.

I’d found clothes in the wardrobe—beautiful gowns and skirts, blouses and trousers, but when my system was this strung out, anything tight or restricting only added to my misery. So I’d opted for a cream satin nightgown with long flowing sleeves and a hem long enough to trail on the floor. Its matching robe had embroidered peonies on the front. It covered a lot, yet was undeniably feminine and offered no protection whatsoever if he wanted to hurt me.

“She’s drunk,” he spat. “She drank so much, she’s passed out in a stupor.”

The panther grunted and sniffed my foot.

“You’d think they’d get sick of this after twenty years. I won’t fall for their tricks, and they can’t kill me. Yet they keep fucking trying.”

It took all my effort to keep my eyes closed and continue faking sleep, especially as curiosity scratched to know more. To look at him. To see why his tone held both exhaustion and fury, despair and wrath.

His shadow suddenly dropped beside me, shading half my face and leaving the other growing warm with sunshine. I did my best not to react, even as his fingertips landed on my brow, ran down my nose, and traced my bottom lip.

“She looks so weak,” he breathed as if he truly believed I’d passed out from too much alcohol. “So useless.”

My heart took offence even though I thought those things on a daily basis.

“Their little games are getting so tiresome,” he sighed, pulling his hand away.

I expected him to rise to his feet again, but he didn’t move. Time ticked past and his closeness made my skin prickle. The longer he looked at me, the more I felt him in every part. My bones. My blood. My breath.

His panther slinked to my other side, hemming me in and making my pulse thunder in my ears.

Lucien’s fingertips suddenly brushed my wrist.

My body betrayed me; a small flinch escaped.

He didn’t seem to notice as he leaned closer. So close I could smell him. Cedar and citrus and the bitter bite of blood.

Blood?

I froze.

Had he killed another girl before coming here?

If I opened my eyes, would I see his hands covered in red and ready to spill mine?

“It’s happened again,” he muttered. “The pain is less when I’m near her...”

The panther hmphed, making it seem as if this man and beast actually held a conversation.

“How is she doing that?”

The way Lucien spoke to it hinted this wasn’t the first time. The memory of what the other girls had said about him raising it as a pet made it seem as if he’d been living alone for a very long time with nothing but a predator for company.

My heart pinched.

Was that true?

Had he been trapped in this brutally beautiful place for twenty years?

“I should kill her,” he suddenly snarled, making my muscles tense. “Get it over with.” Soaring to his feet, his shadow drenched my body again.

I stopped breathing.

I fought the urge to brace.

How would he do it?

What would Frank and the board of Snowflake Corp think when no one could find me?

Please, be quick.

I hovered on that precipice, waiting for the end to come but...he didn’t strike.

Endless minutes ticked past as if he studied me, judged me, and found me not worth his time.

Finally, he exhaled and backed up. “Ugh, forget it.”

The panther sniffed my shoulder as if assuring itself that I was still alive before padding toward its master.

“I’ll wait to see what game she’s playing. I can always kill her tomorrow.”

The panther huffed.

Their shadows vanished.

And my body turned to soup on the grass as I gave in to the shaky relief that I’d somehow survived another day.

Chapter Twelve

I STUCK TO THE SHADOWS AS night fell, and my stubborn headache finally subsided.

After three days of rest, an unwanted visit by the ruler of this place, and a cupboard of wine, I felt strong enough, irritable enough, to go for a walk.

Perhaps, while everyone else was sleeping, I would find a way out of this nightmare.