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Chapter 7
Bree
Shortly after dawn,Taveon came for Bree again. It only took one look at the dress in his hands to understand what he had planned for her this particular morning. She hated that she never knew what was coming, but she felt as though she couldn’t complain. She’d just spent at least fifteen hours locked up in this cell, the time only broken by the delivery of food every fewhours.
Terrible food that tasted likeass.
“Get up,” the Prince barked when he reached her cell. He unlocked the door, threw in the dress, and whirled on his feet to face away from her. Frowning, Bree grabbed the dress from the grimy floor. He seemed grumpier than usual, and that was sayingsomething.
“What bug got up your ass thismorning?”
“Honestly, Bree. I do not understand a word that comes out of yourmouth.”
“Why are you in such a shittymood?”
“That is none of your concern.” His back rippled as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Now, get dressed. I do not have time to waste waiting foryou.”
With a roll of her eyes, Bree quickly changed out of her dirty prison clothes and into the clean blue dress. It was a soft, luxurious fabric that whispered across her skin and clung to her every curve. The Prince had even brought a brush today, and she quickly ran it through her long dark hair. She could almost feel pretty like this—and free—and so far away from the beast she waswithin.
But it was all just anillusion.
And it was a feeling that vanished the second she stepped out of her cell, the metal wrist braces snapping tight around her skin onceagain.
Prince Taveon was silent as he led Bree up the stairs and into the castle above the dungeons. She risked a glance his way, curiosity niggling in her mind. Sure, he was usually pretty grouchy, but this was something else. He was practically seething, and she didn’t think it was directed at her for once. Had something gone wrong? Was someone else jostling for thecrown?
She was desperate to know, but there was no way in hell he’d share the information. And he’d probably march her right back down the stairs if she keptprying.
“So, are we going for a walk again?” shetried.
“That is obvious, is it not?” he merelyreplied.
She rolled her eyes. “Well, I assumed you didn’t want me training in a dress, but who knows? I don’t know how this Courtworks.”
“You will be training in your fightingleathers.”
Yourfighting leathers, Bree couldn’t help but notice. So, those clothes were officially hers. There was something so final about how that sounded. So permanent. There were clothes that belonged to her. Almost as if this place were now herhome.
She wrinkled her nose at the thought. “You can’t keep me here forever, youknow.”
“I can, and I will,” he said in a sharp voice. “Once you have won me my crown, then you will be assigned to the task of generating energy for the Dark Fae. This is not a temporary need. We require this energy to survive.Forever.”
She bristled, anger now roiling through her once again. “You seriously can’t expect me to kill people for the rest ofeternity.”
“You will not be killingthem.”
She balled her hands into fists. “I might as well be. And hell, death is probably a better fate than what you have planned for them. Turning them all into vicious monsters that can’t controlthemselves.”
“I do not have time for this,” Prince Taveon said with a dismissive tone in his voice. “You will do what I say, whether you approve of the methods or not. That is what being my slave means, Bree Paine. It does not mean you have any input into how I run myCourt.”
“Well, it’s not yours to run yet,” Bree said in a snap. “First, you’ll need to win the damn champion fight thing. And hey, maybe I’lllose.”
Bree had been unable to do anything other than tiny, rebellious little acts since she’d been captured, but an idea had sparked in her mind during their conversation. She might be forced to fight for him, but that didn’t mean she had to win. Or even that she had totryto win. She could lose the fight and lose him thecrown.
It would serve himright.
The Prince flashed her a frown. “You do understand that this is a fight to the death, yes? It is why the prospects for the crown do not fight for themselves. The loserperishes.”
Bree’s mouth snapped shut as she gaped at the Prince and how easily he’d tossed out his words as if they were meaningless. As if her life did notmatter.
