Rosalina
I MUST BE ABSOLUTELY mad to attend lunch with these fae princes. One imprisoned me, one
threatened me, one tried to eat me, and one, I suspect, wanted to do very indecent things to me. And
all of them transform into fucking demon wolves.
It’s not like I have a choice. I inhale a shaky breath through my nose and smooth down my skirts.
Yes, skirts. Astrid has dressed me in a full-on gown. According to her, it’s a day gown, but to me,
anything with multiple layers is fancy. I mean, this thing has a freaking petticoat.
It is pretty, though. It’s a robin-egg blue with long draping sleeves embroidered with tiny
snowflakes and a dark navy corset. The skirt hangs above my ankles, obviously made for a shorter
woman. It doesn’t bother me. At my height, I’m used to it.
Astrid assured me that the castle’s seamstress would make clothes to fit me. What does a prisoner
need a seamstress for? I’m going to have to hold my own in this meeting and demand answers about
what is really going on.
“This way, Lady Rosalina.” Astrid opens a double wood door and leads me through.
The dining room looks like something out of a fairytale. Lush velvet drapes frame the windows,
and a banquet table of rosewood sits in the middle. The walls are painted a deep crimson hue, with
ornate carvings of roses along the top of the archways. This room, like the rest of the castle, isn’t free
of the resident plant life. Dark thorns twine around every post and window frame, their spines
catching the light.
Rosalina
mad to attend lunch with these fae princes. One imprisoned me, one
me, and one, I suspect, wanted to do very indecent things to me. And
It’s not like I have a choice. I inhale a shaky breath through my nose and smooth down my skirts.
gown, but to me,
pretty, though. It’s a robin-egg blue with long draping sleeves embroidered with tiny
snowflakes and a dark navy corset. The skirt hangs above my ankles, obviously made for a shorter
Astrid assured me that the castle’s seamstress would make clothes to fit me. What does a prisoner
need a seamstress for? I’m going to have to hold my own in this meeting and demand answers about
The dining room looks like something out of a fairytale. Lush velvet drapes frame the windows,
and a banquet table of rosewood sits in the middle. The walls are painted a deep crimson hue, with
ornate carvings of roses along the top of the archways. This room, like the rest of the castle, isn’t free
of the resident plant life. Dark thorns twine around every post and window frame, their spines
Three fae princes are seated at the table, and all turn to me as I stumble in. One of them stands up,
his chair screeching back. “Er, please take a seat.”
It’s the man from the dungeon. He looks a lot different now. He wears a light-yellow tunic with a
golden belt in the shape of leaves and tight brown breeches tucked into shiny black boots. A golden
swirling cuff decorates one of his ears, and his fluffy brown hair falls in his face as he inclines his
head to me.
I swallow and study the table for a moment as I nervously try to figure out where to sit. There’s a
chair at either end of the table and three on each side. Sitting beside the man is Dayton from the hot
springs; he’s wearing a similar tunic in beige, but it’s so far unlaced, I can see his belly button.
Across from them is Ezryn. My face reddens thinking of how he’d thrown me around my bed this
morning. I wonder if I look presentable enough for him... Not that I have any idea what that living
statue is thinking.
Seems like Keldarion isn’t required for this meeting.
“Choose a seat,” Astrid whispers. “There’s an empty spot beside Prince Farron.”
Farron. That’s his name. Well, figuring he tried to eat me last night, I’m going to keep my distance.
I could sit next to Ezryn. His gauntleted hands are two mighty fists on the table. He may have
healed my leg earlier, but I still haven’t forgotten our first meeting. And I’m not putting my throat
anywhere near him again. No thank you. Not today.
I would have told him to squeeze tighter, Marigold’s cheeky words enter my mind. The damned
minx had nearly gushed herself when I told her about Ezryn healing my leg.
An image flashes through my mind as I picture his hand around my throat as he tosses me onto the
table with the same strength he used to toss me on the bed, then his gentle hands unlacing the bodice of
my corset and—
Okay, what the actual fuck. Marigold is getting to me because I absolutely do not find masked fae
princes sexy in any way.
His metallic head turns to me, and I see my flushed face in the reflection. Shit, this creep isn’t
some sort of mind reader, is he?
I take a couple of awkward steps forward; I truly need to find the lesser of two evils.
A door pushes open from the opposite side of the room and for a moment, all I can see is a black
silhouette. A sharp icy breeze hits me.
Keldarion is here. He stumbles into the light, and he looks... awful.
Three fae princes are seated at the table, and all turn to me as I stumble in. One of them stands up,
It’s the man from the dungeon. He looks a lot different now. He wears a light-yellow tunic with a
golden belt in the shape of leaves and tight brown breeches tucked into shiny black boots. A golden
swirling cuff decorates one of his ears, and his fluffy brown hair falls in his face as he inclines his
I swallow and study the table for a moment as I nervously try to figure out where to sit. There’s a
chair at either end of the table and three on each side. Sitting beside the man is Dayton from the hot
Across from them is Ezryn. My face reddens thinking of how he’d thrown me around my bed this
morning. I wonder if I look presentable enough for him... Not that I have any idea what that living
I could sit next to Ezryn. His gauntleted hands are two mighty fists on the table. He may have
healed my leg earlier, but I still haven’t forgotten our first meeting. And I’m not putting my throat
Marigold’s cheeky words enter my mind. The damned
An image flashes through my mind as I picture his hand around my throat as he tosses me onto the
table with the same strength he used to toss me on the bed, then his gentle hands unlacing the bodice of
find masked fae
Shit, this creep isn’t
A door pushes open from the opposite side of the room and for a moment, all I can see is a black
Well, as awful as an incredibly handsome fae prince can look. While the rest of the princes have
put in a little effort to look regal for the monumental occasion that is having lunch with me (I mean, I
can’t really say that about Ezryn, but his helmet is especially shiny), Keldarion looks like he crawled
out of a sewer.
His white hair hangs limp over his shoulders and is strewn with dirt. Dried blood stains his low-
cut black tunic and shadows ring his light eyes. The only delicate thing about him is a crystallized
snowflake necklace that lays on his muscular chest.
Keldarion meets my gaze from across the room but looks away with a tight sneer as he heads for
the table. Considering the last time I saw him I was lying limp in his massive wolfy jaws, I guess I
was expecting a warmer reaction.
I too stomp across the dining room, making considerably more noise in the dainty slippers than
should be possible. And before I even know what I’m doing, I’m pulling out the head chair opposite
Keldarion and shooting him a glare as I sit down.
Farron also awkwardly falls back in his seat. Dayton leans over and whispers something in his ear,
which causes Farron to smile. Someone with fangs that sharp shouldn’t be allowed to have that cute
of a smile.
The dining room is suddenly alive with staff busying about. Plates of freshly baked pastries, heaps
of crisp salad, and colorful vegetables fill the center of the table. Staff deliver carafes of juice and
steaming pots of hot tea.
As the staff busy about, I can’t help but notice that Dayton greets every one of them by name,
stopping to chat and asking about their morning. He really is stupidly charming. One of the female
servants lingers a little, a hand on his arm.
Marigold and Astrid told me the princes keep their distance from the staff, but is that true? I clench
my hands into fists beneath the table. What am I thinking? He flirted with me once and just made it
obvious that’s what he does with everyone.
Plus, he’s a monstrous wolf.
Dayton is the first one to load his plate, but once it’s full, he places it in front of Farron and begins
another. “You should try the strawberry jam.” Dayton gives me a wink. “Marigold has made it
particularly sweet this week.”
All I can do is shake my head. I’ve never been one to refuse food, but my stomach is in knots.
“You need to eat.” Kel’s sharp voice snaps me out of my anxious thoughts, and I look up to see him
staring at me from across the table.
Well, as awful as an incredibly handsome fae prince can look. While the rest of the princes have
put in a little effort to look regal for the monumental occasion that is having lunch with me (I mean, I
can’t really say that about Ezryn, but his helmet is especially shiny), Keldarion looks like he crawled
His white hair hangs limp over his shoulders and is strewn with dirt. Dried blood stains his low-
cut black tunic and shadows ring his light eyes. The only delicate thing about him is a crystallized
Keldarion meets my gaze from across the room but looks away with a tight sneer as he heads for
the table. Considering the last time I saw him I was lying limp in his massive wolfy jaws, I guess I
I too stomp across the dining room, making considerably more noise in the dainty slippers than
should be possible. And before I even know what I’m doing, I’m pulling out the head chair opposite
Farron also awkwardly falls back in his seat. Dayton leans over and whispers something in his ear,
which causes Farron to smile. Someone with fangs that sharp shouldn’t be allowed to have that cute
The dining room is suddenly alive with staff busying about. Plates of freshly baked pastries, heaps
of crisp salad, and colorful vegetables fill the center of the table. Staff deliver carafes of juice and
As the staff busy about, I can’t help but notice that Dayton greets every one of them by name,
stopping to chat and asking about their morning. He really is stupidly charming. One of the female
Marigold and Astrid told me the princes keep their distance from the staff, but is that true? I clench
my hands into fists beneath the table. What am I thinking? He flirted with me once and just made it
Dayton is the first one to load his plate, but once it’s full, he places it in front of Farron and begins
another. “You should try the strawberry jam.” Dayton gives me a wink. “Marigold has made it
“You need to eat.” Kel’s sharp voice snaps me out of my anxious thoughts, and I look up to see him
“I’m not hungry,” I say back. It’s not a total lie.
A muscle feathering in Kel’s jaw is the only sign of his annoyance. I’m not sure why getting a rise
out of him fills me with such a delicious fire. Maybe it’s my way to maintain some sense of control as
his prisoner.
“If you don’t eat now,” Kel snarls, “you’ll be hungry later.”
“I’ll eat food then.”
“If you don’t eat with us,” Keldarion growls low, “then you don’t eat at all.”
“I’m not hungry!” I push myself up from the table and gesture toward Ezryn. “He’s not eating.”
Ezryn sits without a plate in front of him. I was wondering if he was finally going to take off his
helmet to eat, but it seems a permanent fixture on his face.
“I eat alone,” Ezryn says simply. “I do not remove my helmet in front of anyone.”
Alright then. I turn back to glare at Kel, but he’s already moving, filling his own plate. My stomach
growls, betraying all my earlier not hungry propaganda.
Suddenly, Kel drops the plate in front of me so hard I’m surprised the porcelain doesn’t shatter. It’s
filled with all the pastries I’d raved to Marigold about yesterday. That traitor trash panda. Did she
tell Kel what I liked? And if so, why the hell would he care?
“Eat,” he says. “You’re clearly hungry.”
Cold air washes over me, fresh snow and pine ensnaring me in its embrace. I try to break the
moment by scowling at him, but when my gaze meets the ice-blue of his eyes, my resolve fades. His
smoldering stare feels like a burning blaze trailing down my face, my neck, and settling on my chest.
Astrid cinched my corset too tight, and I can feel him notice as a growl rumbles from his throat. It
sounds different from anger, more... wanting.
I could slap myself. What is wrong with me? Am I that far gone I think I can differentiate between
fae growls now?
Keldarion turns away. It feels like this douchey winter prince got the last word, which fills me with
an unhinged anger. I stand and grab a hard red apple from the table.
“And here’s your lunch,” I growl and chuck it at his back.
Keldarion catches it without turning around. He sits back down in his chair and raises a dark brow
at me.
I fall back to my seat in a huff.
“Now that we’re all present,” Ezryn says, giving a deep sigh, “may our meeting begin?”
A muscle feathering in Kel’s jaw is the only sign of his annoyance. I’m not sure why getting a rise
out of him fills me with such a delicious fire. Maybe it’s my way to maintain some sense of control as
Ezryn sits without a plate in front of him. I was wondering if he was finally going to take off his
I turn back to glare at Kel, but he’s already moving, filling his own plate. My stomach
Suddenly, Kel drops the plate in front of me so hard I’m surprised the porcelain doesn’t shatter. It’s
filled with all the pastries I’d raved to Marigold about yesterday. That traitor trash panda. Did she
Cold air washes over me, fresh snow and pine ensnaring me in its embrace. I try to break the
moment by scowling at him, but when my gaze meets the ice-blue of his eyes, my resolve fades. His
smoldering stare feels like a burning blaze trailing down my face, my neck, and settling on my chest.
Astrid cinched my corset too tight, and I can feel him notice as a growl rumbles from his throat. It
I could slap myself. What is wrong with me? Am I that far gone I think I can differentiate between
Keldarion turns away. It feels like this douchey winter prince got the last word, which fills me with
Keldarion catches it without turning around. He sits back down in his chair and raises a dark brow
My meeting with the four fae princes. My stomach roils. This is a meeting of my fate, my future.
And I can’t mess it up.