Bree didn’t stick around to see his last breath, but she knew it would come. The blade had gone right into his heart. Tears streamed down her face at the horror of it, and her feet pounded in time with the heavy beating of her heart. She hated what she had done. Killing was the last thing she ever wanted to do. It was why becoming a Redcap had been so torturous for her. The bloodlust drove her wild. A bloodlust she had wanted to rip out of her skin.

It was a long way back to the Faerie Ring that would lead her home to Otherworld, and she no longer had a horse. For a brief moment, she considered letting her beastly form take over. It was itching to get out, making her skin pulse with the need to run, run, run.

But as awful as she felt about what she’d done, she also felt unspeakable relief. She would not be turned into a champion, an assassin, or whatever else the Prince had planned for her. She would be free, and Otherworld would be safe. No one would ever know what had happened to the King or the Prince, and the Light Fae’s realm could continue on as normal.

Except...a little voice in the back of her head reminded her that some things were still very much not fixed yet. There was still the Tithe to worry about. All the innocent humans who would be lost because of it. She didn’t know how they would end the Tithe now.

Up ahead, she could see the dark stone ring that would lead her back to the Light Fae’s realm. Almost there.

Heavy wings beat overhead. More ravens? No, these wings sounded like thunder, like they were ten times heavier, and they were coming close. Frowning, Bree slowed her steps and paused to gaze overhead.

Two enormous silver wings pounded against the air, protruding from the bloody back of a very angry and very alive-looking Prince Taveon. Bree’s heart dropped into the pit of her stomach at the sight of the fae, and dread poured through every vein in her body. All she could do was stand there, dumb-founded, staring up at him.

How the hell had he survived?

He’d been seconds away from death when she’d left him. The blade had gone straight into his heart. Blood had painted the ground all around his broken body.

The blade was gone now, along with his shirt, though the blood was still caked to his slick, luminous chest. One with tightly-coiled muscles that rippled as his wings beat the air. He had found a rope somewhere, and he had slung it around his neck. The ends swirled in the air from the force of his powerful wings. Bree swallowed hard and took a step back, not sure whether to scream or run or both.

Instead, she settled for staying rooted to the spot, calling to the beast within her. Maybe if she transformed into her wolfish counterpart, she’d have a chance at fighting back. Maybe the beast could take on this monstrous Dark Fae.

Because damn, did Prince Taveon look as though he were itching for a fight.

He settled down on the ground before her as the force of his wings formed a tornado around her shaking body. Her hair whipped at her face, and the scent of smokey death filled her head. She took another step back, staring at the Prince. Hot breath shot from his flared nostrils as he eyed her with a ferocious intensity that made her knees quake.

“You killed me.” His voice was a deep growl that slithered across her skin.

She raised her eyebrows. Interesting choice of words. He certainly didn’t look like she had killed him.

“I showed your world mercy. I intended to keep your dear Princess safe.” His nostrils flared even more. “And you repay that favor by killing me while I lay bleeding before you.”

“I think you might be confused. You don’t look dead to me.”

In fact, he was breathtakingly alive. Blindingly so. It was hard not to stand and stare at him. Before, it had been impossible not to notice that he was easy on the eyes. His smooth dark hair, that strong jaw. But now, he was on a totally different level. Power rippled off him in waves, so fast and furious that Bree felt knocked senseless by his very presence.

He blinked, shuddering as he folded those massive silver wings of his behind his back. And she felt as though she could breathe slightly easier, now that she didn’t have to stand there transfixed and staring at them. That didn’t fix his bare chest though.

“I am impossible to kill,” he merely said. “Or harm. At least for more than a few moments.”

“Right...” Bree frowned. “Wait a minute. I thought you got injured back in Otherworld. That’s why Norah brought you back to the castle in the first place. So that Liam could heal you.”

“I was not truly harmed then either. I needed an excuse to be taken to your castle.” He pressed his lips into a grim line. “That is your first lesson of Underworld. Never trust the words of a Dark Fae.”

Another lie. Another falsehood. For what? To get close to Princess Norah? To gain her trust? So that he could then steal Bree away to Underworld.

Bree took a step back, shaking her head. “What are you going to do to me?”

He pulled the rope over his head and took several large strides toward her. She backed up quickly, her eyes darting left and right. “I shall take you back to the castle like I had planned. And you will become my champion and my Redcap assassin.”

She stumbled back. No. She wouldn’t do this. She wouldn’t let it happen—

“And Bree?” He gave her a cruel smile. “If you try to run again, if you try to kill me, then I vow to tell my Court exactly how my father died. And I will not stand in their way when they want to kill every last Light Fae alive.”

Her whole body trembled as she stayed exactly where she was. He’d given her no other choice, she realized. She’d happily risk her own life to get the hell out of here, but she wouldn’t risk the lives of anyone else, especially not those she loved. As he strode behind her to wrap the rough rope around her wrists, she ground her teeth together. She’d never hated anyone more than in that moment.

One day, she would get her revenge on him. One day, she’d show him exactly what she thought about him and his stupid realm.

Until then, she just had to hope the deeds he made her do wouldn’t break her soul into a million tiny pieces along the way. She had to hope she could hold on to her humanity.

* * *

The horses were long gone, so Bree and Prince Taveon were forced to continue with the rest of their journey on foot, Bree stumbling behind Taveon as he yanked her down the path. Every single time he did that, the ropes would dig even deeper into her raw skin, but she couldn’t bring herself to merrily walk along like nothing was wrong.

There wasn’t much she could do to rebel against him, so a little pain felt worth making his journey as difficult as possible.

It took several more hours to reach the castle, a hulking monstrosity that rose up from the beautiful scenery like an ugly toenail. Everything was all sharp angles and drab steel gray. Skinny towers sprouted from the ground, narrowing into jagged peaks that cut through the inky sky. The sight of it made Bree shiver, even though she wasn’t cold.

This was where she would be living for at least a few years. Maybe even the rest of her life.

“I guess you Dark Fae aren’t really into the aesthetic side of things, huh?”

Prince Taveon’s jaw rippled as they slowly approached the gates that were guarded by half a dozen armed guards. “My father had this castle built as a demonstration of his rule. He wanted it to reflect who he was as a pointed message for his subjects.”

“Right.” A beat passed. “So, his message was that he’s got a bit of a inferiority complex.”

Taveon raised his eyebrows in question.

Bree gestured to the towers, a slight smile playing across her lips. “Those are very phallic towers. One might think he was trying to make up for a lack in other...areas.”

At that, the Prince’s lips quirked, which surprised her. She thought that comment would have pissed him right off. “Best not say that kind of thing once we get inside.”

“Why? Your oh-so-loyal subjects who want to fight you for your crown might think you’re suffering from a similar issue?” She barked out the words without even thinking.

He scowled and yanked hard against the rope, making her tumble forward and almost splat face-first on the ground.

“I told you to show me respect. If you do not behave, then I will have to make an example of you in front of the Court.”

She wanted to snap back, but she didn’t know what to say.

When they reached the gates, several guards clad in all black approached while two more began to push open the heavy doors. Their faces were covered by steel helmets, only revealing sets of reddish eyes. Bree found them unnerving, to say the least. Things were different here in Underworld. The fae of Otherworld were so much more in tune with nature. They wore billowing cloaks full of color. These fae liked metal and black.

“Prince Taveon,” one of the guards barked out. “Why are you on foot? Where is your father? Who is this prisoner you have with you?”

They didn’t mention the blood or the fact the Prince didn’t have a shirt on, when those were the first things Bree would have noticed herself.

“Please send word that I would like to gather the council together immediately,” Prince Taveon said in a clipped tone of voice that caught Bree off guard. He hadn’t exactly sounded soft before, but this tone was so much harder, so much more full of steel. “And do not speak of this to any of the other guards. Keep my request as quiet as possible, for now.”

“Yes, my Prince.” The guard gave a slight bow and scurried off through the now open gate while Bree turned to the Prince with a lifted eyebrow.

“Why all the secrecy? You’re not going to tell the guards?”

“The news of his death will not be taken well. It must be handled carefully,” Taveon said, his jaw flickering. “But that is none of your concern.”

Bree fought back the urge to roll her eyes. Of course. In his eyes, it wasn’t her concern. She was just his slave, a captive. Already she could tell he was going to be one of those. The kind of fae who wouldn’t tell her anything but the bare minimum. The kind of fae who liked to keep secrets, even when she’d been involved in this whole thing every step of the way. And it was already starting to piss her right off.

“Whatever,” she said. “I didn’t want to know anyway.”

Oh, but she did want to know. She just wasn’t going to let him know how much she hated the fact he wouldn’t tell her. She wasn’t about to let him get the upper hand in anything else.

“Come on.” He yanked her forward, and the ropes dug into her skin once more. She glared at his back as she stumbled forward. The cuts from the Wilde Fae attack had completely disappeared, the red splotches fading into smooth golden skin. The fact he showed no remnants of the attack only made the anger she felt toward him grow even more. It wasn’t fair.

He yanked her through the courtyard and into a large building with few windows overlooking the faerie lands outside. Sconces lined the walls, and a yellowish light danced against the stone from the small fires. The Prince was completely silent, and the only sounds were their footsteps echoing through the empty space.

Bree hated the silence. She had to get him talking again, more for her sanity than anything else.

“So, how does the energy work then? Is that why you can’t be killed? It makes Dark Fae truly immortal?”

Bree thought he would refuse to answer her, but after a moment, he let out an irritated sigh. “Most Dark Fae can be killed.”

“But not you.” A pause. “Why?”

“The reasons why are none of your concern.” He jerked her to a stop just outside a thick wooden door. “Stop asking so many questions.”

“You expect me to be your champion, but you don’t want to tell me how anything works around here?”

“Yes.”

He pushed open the door with the hand that didn’t hold tight to her rope. It opened with a creak, revealing a long dark set of stairs that led down into a pitch black nothingness. Bree swallowed hard.

“You first.” He gestured at the stairs.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

He sneered. “Do not tell me the fierce angry beast is afraid of the dark.”

“It’s not fear of the dark,” Bree said, grinding her teeth together. “It’s fear of tripping over myself when I can’t see the stair below me and then falling to my death. I realize you don’t care about that since, you know, you’re indestructible and all, but I’m not so lucky.”

He slammed a hand on the wall and leaned closer, dropping his voice into a low hiss. “Stop. Running. Your Mouth. Keep everything about our journey to yourself, including the fact you tried to kill me. If anyone found out, your life would be forfeit. Do you understand me?”

Bree blinked, her whole face flushing with an impossible heat. Her heart beat wildly in her chest, half out of fear and half out of the overwhelming power she felt radiating off his skin. He was so close. Way too close.

“I’m surprised you would care if my life was forfeit,” she whispered back. “You don’t really seem to care much about anything but yourself and that stupid crown.”

“If you are dead, then you are of no use to me.” He pushed off the wall and grabbed one of the torches from beside the door, lifting an eyebrow. “Better now?”

Bree nodded, though she still had no desire to go down those stairs. Anything that lurked at the bottom of darkness couldn’t be good. And once the two of them had finally made it down the cold, shadow-filled stairwell, she understood why it was as dreary as it was.

Prince Taveon had brought her to the dungeons.

“This is where you shall be staying,” he said as they stood in front of a tiny cell that looked barely large enough to fit a cat, let alone a human being. The Prince’s eyes drifted down the long corridor to the doorway. He didn’t even have the decency to look at her while he locked her up in this hellhole.

Bree crossed her arms over her chest. “You’ve got to be kidding me. No way in hell am I going to stay in a dirty shit-hole like that.”

He let out a frustrated sigh. “I can assure you that it is perfectly clean. Besides, it is where your dear friend, Princess Norah, stayed when she was here for her visit.”

“Her visit?” Bree laughed, but it was the kind of laugh only reserved for moments which were truly not amusing at all. “You mean when you kidnapped her and held her against her will?”

“I do not have time for this, Bree.”

“Look, I know I have no choice in being here. And I’ll have to do whatever it is you’re going to force me to do. Train, fight, battle. For years. Hell, probably for the rest of my miserable life. But you seriously can’t expect me to live in a cell. I’m not asking for some grand room in your fancy Great Hall or wherever it is that you royalty live—”

“We live in the Keep.”

“Right. I’m not asking to live there. Hell, I don’t even want to. Just don’t put me in a cell, Taveon.”

“It is Prince Taveon,” he said sharply. “ Slaves are forbidden to address any member of the royal family without a title. If someone heard you do so, then you could end up in far worse quarters than these. Not to mention if anyone found out what you tried to do to me.”

Bree narrowed her eyes. “From where I’m standing, I think I might prefer it if everyone did find out exactly what I did.”

Except that was a lie. As horrible as all this was, Bree didn’t want to die, and Prince Taveon knew it.

“This is not up for debate, and I tire of this conversation and your company.” He grabbed the rope and yanked Bree into the cell. She stumbled inside, wincing at the pain that lanced through her wrists. A knife suddenly appeared in the Prince’s hands. Bree tensed. What was he doing now? He’d just said how much he wanted her alive. Surely he wouldn’t kill her after all this.

Instead, he brought the blade to the edge of the rope and began to saw through it. The frayed edges fell to the floor around her, releasing her raw wrists from its grasp. She let out a sigh of relief, despite herself. The Prince tensed, his eyes flicking up to meet hers. For a moment, something strange passed between them. But then she pulled back her hand and slapped his face with all the strength she had.

It was stupid to lash out at him again, but she couldn’t help herself. He’d completely ruined her life, and she hated to imagine what the rest of her days would bring. He would make her do things she never wanted to do, and she would hate herself for it.

She hated him for it.

A small bud of satisfaction bloomed in her gut at the surprise in his eyes. He hadn’t expected that from her. Already, he thought he’d broken her. But it would take a hell of a lot more than some rope and a dungeon cell to break Bree Paine.

“Do that again,” he said, pointing a finger into her face, “and you will regret the day you laid eyes on me.”

“Too late. I already do.”