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Slowly I curled my hand in the cool air then looked to the doorknob, to the core dusted with snow. Those options felt more like suicide than freezing. Freezing was freedom. Going through the door was annihilation.

I walked back to my corner and let the dress drop to the floor, leaving me naked. When I sat down, the ground was cold and snow melted where my skin touched it, making me wet. The wetness amplified the freeze. With determination, I took my dress and placed it beneath my head, making a sort of pillow. Then I lay down.

As I shivered, teeth chattering violently against my jaw, I tried to remain calm. There was this tug inside my gut, a primordial warning that wanted to take control of my arms and have me put the dress back on. But, if I did that, I would still die, just not as obviously. At least this way there would be a body.

I closed my eyes, trying not to focus on the bitter burn against my skin. I didn’t know how long it was going to take me to freeze to death—I’d read stories about people who froze to death in as short as ten minutes or as long as hours—but eventually I wouldn’t feel the cold. Eventually I would feel warm, even.

My gaze flicked to the apple core again, shriveled on the hardwood floor, dusted with a bit of snow. I knew he could have had it cleaned up. Everything was immaculate in the penthouse. He’d picked it up from the other room and brought it with him for a reason. He’d thrown it to the floor for a reason, too.

To taunt me.

To remind me.

Most people remember Dante’s hell as fiery and lava-filled, but the final center, the darkest, most horrible place, the place where Satan likes to hang out, is cold. Satan is frozen, and his chilly winds are felt in all the levels of hell.

Hell is not a boiling place. Hell is an icy place. I laughed at the thought then groaned as my teeth chattered ferociously. What a perfect description of Beast: a beautiful, fallen angel, the most beautiful and evil of them all.

I had one last thought before I fell asleep: at least my sojourn in hell had been quick.

When I awakened, twisting, crackling flames filled my vision. I saw more than felt at first. Saw the orange glow, the crackling pops. Saw the way the large yellow-orange tendrils cast shadows. I was disoriented. The last thing I remembered was falling asleep in the room, sure I was going to die, thinking about hell.

“God dammit,” I said, my teeth chattering. I’m going to have to walk back through each individual level of hell. As I blinked, though, my vision got clearer and more senses returned. I saw where I really was: in a sitting area, on some kind of armchair, sitting in front of a fire, a blanket draped across my body.

Beast w

as there as well, leaning casually against the marble mantle of the fireplace, holding another fucking apple. He sliced it, watching me with an aloof expression.

“Hungry yet?” he asked, taking a bite. Seeing him, I wasn’t entirely convinced I hadn’t landed in hell after all. He bit into the red flesh and the juices ran down his chin, across his sharp, angular jaw, trickling down his neck. I had the worst thought pop into my head: I want to lick that. I shook my head, clearing the thoughts.

I knew what the asshole wanted. When I stood, such violent shivers racked me that the blanket nearly dropped from my shoulders, but I hurriedly caught it. My limbs felt heavy and sore. Holding the blanket with one arm, I made sure to keep the fabric grasped tightly so I didn’t expose myself. I tried not to think about the fact that in order to put the blanket on me, he would have already seen everything. With a deep, dogged breath, I walked to him, holding my free hand out.

“No, you’ll eat that.” He lifted his chin, gaze flicking from my eyes to behind my shoulder. With dread, I turned slowly around, following his gaze to an end table next to the chair. When I realized what he was talking about, I was simultaneously furious and revolted. Sitting neatly on the table was the fucking apple core. I spun around, glaring at him. I swallowed every bit of pride I had to walk up to him and he wanted me to eat the fucking core? In front of him?

How about he suck it instead? I’d go back to my original plan of dying.

I took my hand back and tugged the blanket tighter around me, waiting for him to throw me back in the room. Instead he ate a piece of his apple and stated, “When you’ve finished eating, you may join me in the living room. You’ll stay here until you decide.”

With equal parts stunned indignation and mute fury, I watched him leave the room. I stared at the dark maw of the doorway he’d walked through, my eyes flickering to the dried core on the table. When I was sure he wasn’t going to come back, I picked it up then walked to the fire. It took me about two seconds to make my decision.

It had been at least two days since I’d had any food, since the morning Beast came for me. If I’d known what was going to happen, I would have eaten a huge breakfast, but I hadn’t, so all I’d eaten that day was a banana. My gut felt like it was growing a home for the Minotaur, but I wouldn’t let him take everything from me.

I threw the core into the fire, waited until the flames licked it and turned it into ash, and then walked out. The Beast was reclining in the sitting area I’d walked into the day before, reading the paper. Everything about him screamed casual, content, and most infuriatingly, handsome. His hair fell to his neck in loose black waves. He wore a forest green Henley that not only stuck to his muscles but somehow brought out both colors in his eyes.

I looked down at myself: covered in tears and blood, hair a mess.

Good.

Maybe he’d leave me the fuck alone.

He flipped a page. “Welcome back.”

“Yeah, well…” I shrugged in the blanket, trying to portray confidence. “There’s nothing you can do to me that you haven’t done already.”

He chuckled lowly, but didn’t say a word.

Four

Opening his palm, the Beast looked down at the sleek black surface of the remote, thinking about what it controlled. It was just the morning after he’d punished Frankie, since he’d turned off the heat and thrown her into the empty storage room with the window open. She’d lasted in there for nearly four hours.

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