When he looked up at me, I noted his eyes weren’t black like I’d supposed last night. They were the deepest green, like the stinging needles of pine trees, sharp enough to slice through skin and draw blood. How appropriate. “You’re going to stay here while I go scouting for a suitable location.”

My stomach dropped. “A location for what?” I asked, my voice a whisper, knowing I should stop asking questions I didn’t want answered.

“I’ve been tracking the ogre through the foothills of the Wasanan Mountains for the past three weeks. That will be a good place to set up tonight.”

The rock in my stomach expanded, filling my limbs with dread. “Tonight?”

When Wicked had said I wouldn’t be here long, he hadn’t been exaggerating.

“Tonight,” he repeated, his dark gaze meeting mine without flinching. If he felt any guilt about his plans, he was doing a very good job of hiding it.

Why would he feel any remorse, though? I was no one to him.

“Can’t I come with you?” I asked. I didn’t want to spend the entire day here alone in my prison, and if I could get some sense of my surroundings, maybe I could formulate an escape plan.

“No.” His tone brooked no argument. “I don’t need you getting in the way.”

I pouted and tried to look pathetic, but that didn’t move him at all. My appetite soured, I pushed the food around on my plate. He studied my motions like he was trying to read my thoughts, but said nothing as he rose and deposited his dirty plate in the sink. I did the same, standing up from the table and carrying it over to him.

He took it and looked down at me. I thought I saw a flicker of hesitation, but a moment later, he dumped the plate and then pointed to my cell.

“In you go.”

“I need to use the bathroom,” I said, trying to buy myself some time, and because I really needed to pee. He sighed, running a hand down his face.

“Right. Let’s go.” He opened the door and cocked his head for me to follow. I hesitated at the icy wisps of air that curled up my skirt and around my bared throat, making my skin dimple. “It’s this or you go in the cage, Princess.”

I nodded with my chin held high and followed him out into the cold, hating everything. When we were done, he ushered me inside and once again pointed to my cage.

I didn’t bother protesting, already knowing it would be no use.

Wicked stomped through the room, collecting his weapons and shrugging into his thick coat. As I stood in my cell watching, he approached and closed the door, locking it, not meeting my eyes. He then donned the rest of his gear, including the long furred cloak and his gloves. He left the skull mask hanging on its hook.

“I’ll be back in a few hours,” he said, still not meeting my gaze. Tears burning the backs of my eyes, I nodded. This was really happening. He was going out to choose the ideal location to offer me up as a sacrifice for a monster. The edges of my vision smeared as I watched the future I’d envisioned shrivel away.

I wondered what Ellis was doing and if he’d found a way to get me out of this. Even if he did, I knew it would already be too late when he arrived. And that was supposing he could find this forlorn castle buried so deep in the woods.

Just as Wicked was about to leave, he stopped and looked at me before stomping over to the smoldering fire and adding another stack of logs, muttering to himself as if he was angry about doing so. He then gave a tip of his chin to no one and tossed me one more look before he swung open the door and slammed it behind him.

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Chapter Six

After Wicked left, I paced in my cell, trying to hatch a plan. Maybe I could escape when he took me into the woods tonight. The problem was I was hours from home and getting there would mean having to find the pass that would allow me through the hills.

Even if I did, by the laws of Aetherus and the Fae, I belonged to him, and it would only be a matter of time before he found me and dragged me back here. I had no more rights than a sack of bruised apples.

The only way I could truly escape was to kill him. I needed a weapon. A dagger. A knife. Anything. I shook the bars of my cage, testing for weaknesses. But it was solidly built. If I screamed loud enough, would anyone hear me? Not likely. No one else lived in these woods and the villagers avoided the forest as much as they could because of the Reaper.

What would they think when they learned there were actually two monsters that called the forest home?

Frustrated, I let out a scream anyway just to relieve the pressure building in my chest. I screamed and screamed until my throat was raw and my voice gave out. It accomplished nothing, but it made me feel marginally better.

Sinking down into the corner of my cage, I wrapped my arms around my knees and waited for Wicked to return.

The sun was setting when the door slammed open, and he stepped inside. Snow dotted the furred shoulders of his cloak, and he shook it off, stomping his wet boots on the floor. I winced at the blast of cold air he brought with him. The fire he’d stoked had dimmed an hour ago, and the room had taken on a chill that left me shivering.

He rubbed his gloved hands, his breath fogging before he looked over to where I sat watching him. Without a word, he marched to the fireplace and added several more logs. Immediately, they caught fire, flaring brightly. It would take a while for the room to warm, and in the meantime, I tucked my frozen fingers into my armpits and glowered at my captor.

Wicked shucked off his overcoat and his gloves, hanging everything on the wall before locking his weapons in their trunk. Without looking at me, he headed for the kitchen, clearly intending to prepare supper. Would he feed me before he took me out into the woods? It hardly mattered. I had no appetite and couldn’t have eaten a bite if I tried.

Before long, the aroma of cooking food filled the air. A large pot sat on the stove that Wicked tended to periodically. He didn’t look at me the whole time, moving about his business. I sat in silence, simply observing.

When the stew was done, he portioned it into two bowls. He also placed a bottle of wine on the table. Now that was an idea I could get behind. Maybe I could get drunk enough to dull my apprehension.

Finally, he approached my cage, unlocking the door and leaving it open before he stalked back to the table. Slowly, I rose and shuffled out, sitting in the seat across from him. The stew was a rich brown gravy floating with pieces of meat, carrots, peas, and potatoes. Any other time it would have smelled delicious, but right now, all it did was twist my stomach.

Ignoring the food, I snagged the bottle of wine, pulled out the loosened cork, and filled the glass in front of me to the top. Wicked watched me warily, saying nothing when I picked up the glass and chugged half of it back.

My mother would have been horrified. This wasn’t the behavior of a princess. But I’d love to see how quickly she abandoned her so-called principles if she were kidnapped by a Fae and used as bait for an ogre.

Wicked remained quiet while I polished off the glass and then poured myself another. Outside, I noticed the snow falling more heavily, fat white flakes reflecting in the descending light.

Maybe he’d change his mind, but I doubted a little snow would stop him.

When we finished eating, he cleaned up the bowls and then turned to face me, grim resignation in his expression.

“It’s time for us to go,” he said.

I looked up at him with the most withering expression I could muster.

“How can you do this to me?” I whispered, my entire body trembling. With rage. With fear. With the sick, crushing certainty, this was my last night on this earth. “I’ve never hurt anyone.”