“Why? Like you said, I won’t be here long.”

He snorted and placed the cup down. “Fair enough.”

“What’s your name?” I asked. “I’d like to know who I’ll be cursing when the ogre is devouring me.”

“Wicked,” he said, and I burst into laughter and slapped my hand over my mouth. His eyebrows drew together, his intense gaze sparking.

“Is something funny, Princess?”

“That’s not your real name. That’s ridiculous.”

His smile was cold as he leaned forward. “Well, it’s the only one you’re getting.”

I rolled my eyes. “Fine,” I said, stuffing bread in my mouth. “Wicked, it is.” I made his name sound as absurd as it was, and his lip curled in a snarl.

“Watch it, Princess. You’re alive at my mercy.”

I leaned forward, baring my teeth. “You’ve already told me I’m ogre food. What incentive is there for me to behave, Wicked? If I’m perfectly sweet and docile, will you change your mind and let me go home?”

He pressed his lips together, anger flaring across his expression. Oh good. I’d gotten under his skin. At least I’d accomplished that.

I sat back and folded my arms. “I didn’t think so.”

He glared while he pulled his plate closer and finished devouring his dinner. We ate in silence for several minutes, tossing dark, meaningful looks across the table. I noted my surroundings, including the only door and the high windows, pondering the best escape route. I had to get out of here, and fast.

“Why do you want to catch the ogre?” I asked casually. Maybe I could figure out his plans and how much longer I had to live.

“None of your business,” he said, not taking his eyes off me as he chewed. He sat so still it was unnerving.

“I do think it’s my business,” I said in retort. “If you’re planning to feed me to it, the least you can do is tell me why.”

He leaned forward, and I mimicked his movement in expectation. “Get used to disappointment, Princess.”

I growled low in my throat. “Asshole.” He chuckled at that, and the sound was so human, so normal, it plucked my already stretched nerves.

Another minute passed before I tried again. Tracing a pattern into the wood of the table, I asked, “Then how about telling me when you plan to use me as bait for the reason that is none of my business?”

He didn’t even humor me with a snort this time. Instead, I was rewarded with a resonant growl. “Keep this up and I’ll make you sleep outside.” His mouth stretched into a feral smile. “And what lives out there is much less friendly than I am.”

Shivers climbed up my scalp at the menace in his expression.

“You just said you need me,” I whispered, not sure who I was trying to convince. “You can’t let anything happen to me until you get what you’re after.”

“I just need your blood, Princess. The rest of you is expendable.”

I gaped at him, hoping he was just being dramatic, but there was only truth in his words. The room suddenly felt very small.

“You finished?” he asked, and I blinked in surprise, looking at my empty plate.

“Yes,” I said softly, wondering how I was going to escape this nightmare. I thought of Ellis and Margaret and my parents. They must be beside themselves with worry. I thought of my soft, warm bed and my airy room in the castle. Of the feast I should have been enjoying after a betrothal to my oldest friend today.

Instead, I was here in this drafty, awful tomb with this cruel, wild Fae, about to become a snack for some monster I couldn’t even imagine. The creak of the iron door of my cell roused my attention. Wicked held it open, his head tipped as he waited for me.

“In you go,” he said.

“Can’t I sleep there?” I pointed to the worn sofa in front of the hearth. “I’ll even take the floor. Please don’t make me sleep in there.” I willed as much docile subservience into my voice as I could. If he locked me inside, there would be no hope of escaping.

But if I thought Wicked had a compassionate bone in his body, I was sadly mistaken because he let out an evil chuckle that reminded me of the rattling bones scryers used to predict the future.

“Nice try, Princess. I’d like to get a good night’s sleep without worrying about you trying to slit my throat and escaping.” I bit my bottom lip. I hadn’t even thought of the first part. Now I eyed the dagger hanging from his belt, mentally adding a new task to my list. He watched where my interest went, and it was obvious he knew exactly what I was thinking.

I bared my teeth in an attempt to look menacing, but he just rolled his eyes. “You can do as you’re told, or I’ll put you in there myself.”

Wavering, I wished I could tear out a fistful of his hair and feed it to him. I couldn’t fight him. I couldn’t outrun him. My only hope was to find some way to outsmart him, but the cunning gleam in his eyes told me that wouldn’t be easy to maneuver.

Slowly, I stood, my skirt clutched in my hands. My arsenal consisted of this wholly impractical dress, my cloak, and a pair of thin slippers. Basically, I had nothing.

With a withering glare, I glided into my cage and spun around to face him as he slammed the door in my face and locked it.

“Sweet dreams, Princess.”

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Chapter Five

I spent a miserable night on the cold, hard floor, huddled in the corner of my cell. The only warmth I had was from my cloak, which offered no insulation between me and the stone. Throughout the night, the fireplace burned lower and lower, the air growing so chilled I could see my breath in front of my face.

I called out to Wicked to stoke it with more logs, but either he ignored me or didn’t hear, because he didn’t stir from his bed on the far side of the room. I stared at the wide breadth of his back while he slept, hating him. Loathing him. He’d taken my entire life from me, and I would find some way to make him pay.

Plagued by murky dreams of the ogre and Wicked’s perverse intentions, I drifted in and out of sleep. Eventually, I must have drifted off because the sounds of movement and the glare of sunlight woke me. Wicked stood in the kitchen, something sizzling on the cooktop. It smelled so intensely good; I sat up, wondering if he was planning to feed me again or if I was the one becoming the meal today.

At my movement, he turned to eye me, one of his dark brows already arched in disdain. “Hungry?” he asked, and tension loosened in my stomach.

Perhaps I had a bit longer yet to live.

I nodded, and he turned away, continuing what he was doing. While he finished cooking, setting the table and piling eggs and bacon onto a plate, I watched. The scent of coffee tickled my nose, and I scooted forward, pressing my face between the bars of my cage as I inhaled. After the miserable night on the floor, the reminder of these comforts felt like tiny jewel-encrusted lifelines.

When breakfast was ready, he approached my cage and unlocked it. The keen gleam in his eyes told me he wasn’t about to let his guard down. With my gaze on my feet, I shuffled out of the cage, trying to look appropriately cowed. I had to trick him into underestimating me.

The derisive snort that followed in my wake suggested I hadn’t fooled him for a moment. I tossed a piercing look over my shoulder that I hoped conveyed the vast depth of my acrimony. He ignored it and skirted around me to sit at the table, tucking into his food. My stomach growled, and I did the same after dropping in the chair across from him.

I took a bite of eggs and nearly moaned. It turned out this rogue Fae in the forest was a surprisingly skilled cook.

“Good?” he asked, catching my expression.

“It’s fine, I guess. Not the absolute worst thing I’ve ever eaten,” I said with a shrug. He smirked before he focused again on his plate. “So, what’s on the schedule for today?”