The sunlight grew ruddier, streaming through the slit in the wall, and I wondered exactly when Ragnar was coming back for me. I’d bathed in freezing cold water in the tiny bathroom, and I now smelled like freshly scrubbed skin. I sat on the cot, waiting for something to happen.

I’d spent most of the day telling myself stories, faking conversations between Holly and me. I’d even made myself burst out laughing a few times with my hilarious banter about flirting techniques.

Okay, I was losing it.

When the door creaked open, I wondered for a moment if I was dreaming it.

It wasn’t until a cold draft wafted over my skin that I understood it was real. I crossed to the door, finding a box lying on the flagstones. I picked it up, plucking off the top to find golden tissue paper.

I closed the door for some privacy. Then I pulled out a long white and silver gown that shimmered in the dying sunlight.

Okay. So this was what Ragnar wanted me to wear to dinner.

I unbuttoned Ragnar’s shirt and dropped it on the bed, feeling the drafty air whisper over my skin. When I pulled on the gown, the silky fabric slid over me easily. The dress was cut low in the front, and it hugged my body beautifully. A slit slashed all the way up my thigh. How had he known my size so well?

No shoes, but it was a start.

Barefoot, I pulled open the door to find a golden-winged hawk sitting in the hallway. He cocked his head at me and squawked, then puffed his wings and soared down the bleak stone corridor.

I cleared my throat. “Am I supposed to follow you, or what?”

Shadows swallowed the hallway. Maybe this was my opportunity. As I walked, I studied the closed wooden doors, looking for a sign that Holly could be in here; only I couldn’t see anything, not a crack of light beaming from beneath the doors. It was like they’d been hermetically sealed from top to bottom.

Maybe I could use the one skill I’d developed since all this had started—light. I closed my eyes, summoning that glow in my chest, until I felt something pulling me, an invisible tug at the light between my ribs.

I paused at one of the doors, the tug pulling at my middle more urgently, and I pressed my palm against it.

There was light in this room.

I cleared my throat. “Holly?”

Nothing.

“Holly?” I asked a little louder.

Then I heard the frantic pattering of footfalls across the floor, and a body bumping against the other side of the door. “Yes?”

It was her voice, and a wild, ecstatic hope bloomed in my chest. “It’s Dawn!” I whispered, frantically trying the doorknob. It was locked, of course.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she asked.

Euphoria bubbled in my chest. I’d known she was here, and I’d found her at last. “Ragnar brought me here. Just—can you tell me how to get you out of there?”

“He’s got a key.”

“Right. Okay, so—”

The hawk’s urgent squawking and flapping interrupted me. I was running out of time.

“Holly,” I whispered. “I’m coming back for you. With the key.”

Another frantic squawk from the hawk told me I needed to move on. But at least now I had a destination and a clear goal: get the keys. Escape with Holly.

I crossed my arms in front of my chest, following the hawk as he swooped around a corner. When I reached an arched doorway, I found Ragnar sitting at the end of a long oak table in a candlelit dining room. A plate of salmon and potatoes had been set for me, along with red wine.

Rage ignited at the sight of him. He’d abducted my friend, and then he’d refused to admit that she was here, that she was okay.

He straightened when he saw me, his body stiffening, pale eyes locked on me. A muscle tensed in his jaw.

I forced a smile onto my lips and I slowed my walk, sashaying my hips like I thought Holly might. “Thanks for the dress.”

“Sit,” he said, motioning to an empty chair pulled out under a glittering chandelier.

I swept my skirt aside as I lowered myself into the chair. Channel your inner Holly.

I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, then let my hand fall idly down my neck. Holly had always said to trace your fingertips down your body, like trailing a trickle of water. Just as she’d instructed, I slid my fingertips down my collarbone.

Ragnar stared at the movement. Before I reached my cleavage, I lost confidence in the gesture, pulling my hand away from my chest. Instead, I snatched the glass of wine off the table. I could always find courage at the bottom of a wine glass.

Even that simple gesture seemed to entrance Ragnar. I was definitely starting to believe that his deep rage toward me masked a different kind of passion. At least, I thought so.

I glanced at Ragnar’s plate, realizing for the first time that he didn’t have one. I raised my eyebrows. “It’s just me eating?”

He lifted a goblet to his lips. “It’s just you.” A red droplet glinted at the corner of his mouth until he wiped it away with the back of his hand.

The smell of the freshly cooked salmon wafted into my nose, and my mouth started watering. All at once, starvation ripped through my stomach, and I started cutting into the potatoes and fish. The food was delicately flavored with dill, cream, and a hint of mustard, and I had to eat something before I could move on to stealing that key off his belt. I almost felt guilty eating while Ragnar simply watched, until I remembered the diet of bread he’d been keeping me on.

“Do you have a cook?” I asked, trying to make conversation.

He shook his head. “No. I made it. An old recipe I remembered from long ago.”

Pretend to be nice. “You’re a heck of a cook, Ragnar. You’re really not eating?”

He lifted his goblet, a faintly amused smile on his lips. “Just this.”

I heaved a deep sigh. “I know you have Holly here.”

His only response was a glacial stare, his body preternaturally still.

“I want to see her,” I tried again.

Pure, icy silence. Then, “nothing is what it seems, Dawn.”

Charm him, Dawn. I knocked back a few sips of wine, steeling my nerve. I’d come here for the key. I’d never exactly tried to seduce anyone before. I hadn’t really had to do anything special to land Luke, come to think of it. In high school, he’d just started sitting next to me in chem, and we’d made fun of Mr. Schneider’s bowl cut.

I pushed away from the table, turning my body so my legs pointed at Ragnar. What did men like? Holly said they were simple. Call attention to your breasts, make them think you’re envisioning sex. I remembered how Balthazar had looked at me when my white dress had been drenched from the rain.

I grabbed a glass of water, pretending to clumsily spill it on the front of my dress.

“Whoops!” I said, all innocence. Already I could feel my nipples hardening under the cold splash of water.

The muscles beneath Ragnar’s plain white T-shirt tightened, and I watched as his knuckles whitened around his goblet.