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Chapter one
BETH
Cold.Sofuckingcold,like the air was licking my skin with icy abandon.
I reached for my cover, but no matter how far I stretched, I couldn’t grab hold of it. My head was killing me, and without opening my eyes, I dropped my hand.
That’s when I realized something was very wrong. My arm touched a hard surface, biting my skin worse than the air. Where was I? Where was my warm bed?
My eyelids flew open, and my breath caught as if I’d been plunged into an icy lake. Once my vision got used to the dim, gray light, I whimpered in pure terror.
I lay on a stone floor, its ice-veined surface clinging to my skin. The metallic aftertaste of enchantments lingered in my mouth, and my legs were so cold, they felt like they didn’t belong to me.
Ice glinted on the window bars of a solid door. The numbing chill seeped through my skin, leaching the warmth from my bones. I sat up, my joints creaking, and hugged my knees as my teeth chattered. The stench of dampness and mold hung in the air. In the distance, something yowled once—a sound so eerie, I hid my face in my hands and moaned softly.
The silence following the howl was thick and oppressive, blanketing everything like a heavy winter’s fog. My prison was bare, without a bed or a blanket. My breath curled around me like ghostly tendrils before vanishing into the gloom.
Streaks of luminescent Fae magic cast an otherworldly purple glow that danced across the walls. Outside, it might have been pretty. In here, the flickering made my stomach heave.
The cold was unrelenting, and I shivered so badly, my knees banged together. Where were the pants Bleddyn had bought me at the market? Whoever had put me here had stripped and left me in a coarse shift dress several sizes too big. They hadn’t added underwear, and my ass was freezing against the stone floor.
Panic rose again, tightening my chest. Lowering my head between my knees, I forced myself to slow down my breathing. If I wanted to survive this, I needed to calm the fuck down and think.
When I could breathe without hyperventilating, I called out, “Hello? Anybody?”
I didn’t know what I expected. Bleddyn to open the door with an apology? I’d only just admitted to myself I’d caught feelings for the Fae, but there was a less than zero chance he’d show up to save me.
With fake bravado, I shouted, my voice hoarse and raspy. “You’re not gonna break me, you bastards.”
The only answer to my cries was silence, broken by screams in the far distance. Groaning like an old woman, I struggled to my feet, regretting it the moment I straightened up.
Frigid gusts stole through the narrow gaps in the stones, whipping past me like icy lashes. Slowly, the mental fog lifted, and I remembered.
King Rhys, the ruler of the Fae, motionless at my feet. His son Prys, my uncle, pointing at me accusingly while I protested my innocence. Bleddyn, stone-faced and pale, standing by as they grabbed my arms, and then—
A pang of sorrow washed over me. I’d never gotten to know my grandfather, the late King Rhys. Never learned the story of my mom, the Lost Princess. My story.
They’d dragged me to the throne room where, only the day before, the king had acknowledged me as his heir. Not a single person had raised their voice to defend me. Or questioned how convenient it was that the king had died immediately after giving me his throne.
If anything, Rhys’s words before his death had condemned me. In their eyes, it had given me a motive to ascend the throne as soon as the old king was gone.
I could still hear my voice, hollow and desperate. I told them I’d never have raised a hand against my own grandfather. But no one had listened.
Tiny creatures scuttled through the near-darkness. Squeaks and rustles echoed off the walls.
Turning my face away from the draft, I slumped against the freezing wall, fingers pulling on my hair to fight back the panic muddling my thoughts.
Why had Bleddyn not defended me? I’d thought we had something, maybe a chance to explore these feelings between us. But when I’d stood over the dead king’s body, his blood on my clothes and hands, Bleddyn’s face had shut down until there was nothing but an icy mask.
Daeary had told me Bleddyn was Prince Prys’s enforcer, and I’d been stupid enough to think he’d choose me over his liege lord. What an idiot I was.
Then my thoughts drifted to Daeary. My breath hitched at the memory of the gorgeous, reckless incubus who’d swept me off my feet. Where the hell was he? Was he still alive? I hadn’t seen him in the crowd before Prys had knocked me out.
Something moved at the far side of the cell, hidden in the shadows. I pressed my back against the wall, preparing for the next horror.
As if my thoughts had conjured him, Prys stepped into the ghostly glow of the cell, his silver eyes as chilling as the frost on the door. A cruel smile played on his lips, twisting his handsome features into a mockery of my mother’s face.
Anger seized me so hard, I lurched forward. “You bastard. You know I didn’t kill the king, you... you...”
