My attack has very little impact on the king, who simply absorbs my punch without falter. Not even his precarious stance between his single leg and staff is compromised. His expression clouds over and all previous amusement leaves his eyes.
My captors regain their hold on me.
“Tie her back up and leave her in darkness,” he growls. “We’ll draft a new ransom note. One thatdoesn’tclaim she’s unharmed. And if her father fails to comply, then I’m sure we’ll find another way. Another family member perhaps.” His gaze slides to me, expression triumphant.
Another family member.My mind goes to Nina. “Leave my family out of this!”
The fae begin to funnel back into the hall, and my captors drag me toward the chair. Turning away, the king hobbles toward the door.
“Wait!” I call at his back; he’s already halfway over the threshold. “We can talk this out.”
He ignores me and disappears into the hall.
My captors push me into the chair, forcing me to keep my seat as they gather the discarded ropes.
I take a deep breath, steadying my resolve, then shout, “Tell me about the curse!”
My captors halt their motions, and all sounds of footsteps cease. For a moment, time seems frozen, until the king stalks back into the room, his staff pounding on the flagstones. His lips are pulled into a snarl. “Who told you about the curse?”
I hear a small gasp and catch sight of Micah peeking into the room, shaking his head vigorously. Averting my gaze to the king, I say, “It’s obvious there’s some kind of curse at play here. Why else would you be toying with me like this? Trying to trick me time and time again to make some silly sacrifice for you?”
His chest heaves. “Some silly sacrifice?” The words come under his breath, so low they reverberate in my bones. “Thissilly sacrificecould mean my life.”
“If that’s the case, then you’re going about it all wrong. The ransom plot, the feigned attacks, the trickery. What you’re doing will never work.”
“You know nothing.”
“Then tell me. Instead of using me as bait, make me an ally.” I keep my expression neutral to hide the truth. That I have no intention of allying with this fae. What I need are more facts. More figures. More to tally up and divide until I can find the right weakness to use against him.
For several silent moments we just stare at each other, the king’s garnet eyes narrowed with intensity. It may not be the ruby stare of his wolf form, but there’s certainly something predatory about it.
Finally, he speaks. “Out.” His voice comes out quiet, then magnifies into a roar. “Everyone out!”
“Even us—” Blackbeard begins.
“Out!” the king shouts again.
Blackbeard and the female release me and hurry out the door.
I catch a final glimpse of Micah’s wide eyes before Blackbeard closes the door and leaves me trembling and alone with the king.
11
The silence blanketing the room sends my heart hammering against my ribs. This isn’t the silence of peaceful mountains and quiet woods. This is the eerie quiet that comes before the storm.
Eyes locked on me, the king takes a step closer, then another.
I rise from the chair, shoulders thrown back. Everything in me screams that I should run, cower, but I refuse to give in. If this is where I die, then I’ll go down with my eyes wide open and defiant. Counting to five, I steady my breathing and curl my fingers into fists to keep my arms from trembling. Then, voice as steady as I can manage, I break the silence. “Are you truly the Unseelie King of Winter?”
He ignores my question, lips curling into a snarl, but his expression falters. He drops my gaze, shoulders drooping. Then with slow steps, he closes the distance between us. I hold my ground, pulse racing, but as he approaches, he waves a hand at me. “Move.”
I step away and he takes my place in front of the chair and lowers into it. Slumping to the side, he leans on his elbow, propping his face with his fist. In the other arm, he cradles his staff. “So,” he says, his tone cold and distant, “you want to be my ally.”
No,I think to myself.I want to measure your weakness. Strike where it hurts.Out loud, I say smoothly, “I think there’s a chance we could work something out.”
“Fine,” he says with a dismissive flourish of his hand. “Pitch me this alliance of yours.”
With slow, hesitant steps, I move a few paces away and face him. “I have questions first. To start, tell me if it’s true. Are you the king?”
