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I take a deep breath. Here it goes.

The plan.

I stumble suddenly, pressing my hand to the stone corridor wall as I clutch my face with the other.

Ragnar stops and turns. “What is it?”

“It…” I say through gritted teeth. “It’s nothing.”

Lord Rollo grips my biceps fiercely, pulling me up straight. “Clearly it is not. Why are you in pain?”

I tremble. “It’s the stars. I think they are trying to tell me something.”

Lord Rollo searches my eyes, waiting, so I land my final line of my script. I add a little wobble to really sell the deal. “It’s the star stone, the Cebalrai. I think I’m starting to get a vision for the location of the stone.”

Please, please, please take the bait. There is only one thing that this man wants more than sex.

Power.

Lord Rollo abruptly turns to Ragnar. “Take her to the chamber immediately.” He then turns his dark gaze on me, all lust replaced with cool calculation. “You have one hour to produce viable results on the location of the stone. You will be fruitful in many different ways for me tonight, pet, when our consummation completes this marriage ritual.”

Moon God please help me from murdering this male. My mind was on the brink of shattering this past week, until I began to sing. The guards probably thought I was going crazy—likely possibly still true—but music was the only thing that grounded me. Healed me.

Gave me hope.

Two other large Oksvakt join Ragnar to escort me to the all-too-familiar circular chamber. Perhaps it’s because it’s my wedding night, but they don’t put a leash or chain around my wrists. They are getting relaxed. Perfect.

In fact, I lay myself onto the table as they strap me in. I have only one shot at getting this right. My heart gallops as fast as Lux despite my steady breaths.

One of the guards pulls on the massive lever, and I watch as the stones slide and shift, swirling to reveal a small hole at the top. I swear I can see one singular star twinkling above, a single thread of hope.

I close my eyes and pretend to use my powers, but instead, I’m waiting, until they are close enough to blast. All I know is that while Ragnar was tackling me in the maze, I was able to knock him off. Maybe I need someone too—

I scream as a set of large, meaty hands drag up my right leg.

This is not a part of my plan. I imagined a million scenarios, but for some reason, this possibility never occurred to me. You are so foolish!

“She ain’t the lord’s just yet. Who’s to say I can’t just taste a little of this beauti—” the guard starts but then is pushed off by Ragnar, who now stands above me with a dagger drawn.

The guard is furious, but Ragnar only looks at him flatly. “You’re welcome. If Lord Rollo found out you were touching his things before he could, he would kill you.”

I almost release a surge of power just then but let my rage continue to fester. I stare at Ragnar with as much hate as I can muster. I don’t give a fuck what he just “saved” me from when he is the reason I’m here in the first place.

“I can continue from here,” Ragnar says, pulling a sharp dagger from a sheath and twirling it between his fingers.

The other guard puffs out his chest. “Who says you get to make the orders? I want some alone time with her first… if you know what I mean.”

I whimper, then gasp at the way the sound startles my ears. I didn’t realize I was crying, the facade of Teller clearly breaking under this horrifying twist.

This was not the plan.

Ragnar sets his dagger down next to my hand and turns to leave.

“No! Wait!” I plead for him to stay, knowing that he is the least of the three evils in this room.

The guard’s face is bloated with sick joy at the thought of having “alone time with me.”

No, no, no… My hands shake and my pinky brushes something sharp. The dagger! Why would he leave it here where I could reach it?