Page 65 of Caged By Dance and Desire

“You only pretended to eat at the party,” he said. “I’m always watching. Except, obviously, when I am not.”

“I'm not hungry.” I glanced up at him and flinched.

He stared at me, his eyes glazed. “Eat. Hasannah.”

I turned my attention to the plate. Assorted berries, thin slices of cheese and cold meat, a mound of fluffy sweet cream and a soft biscuit. My shoulders relaxed. Nothing heavy, and he hadn't overfilled my plate like he normally did, forgetting I wasn't a starving warrior.

I ate as he stood at the end of the bed watching me. He left again and returned with a mug of hot chocolate. Knowing him, he’d slipped some kind of protein supplement into it. When I finished, he took the dishes and left the bedroom.

When he reentered, he pulled a chair up to the end of the bed and sat, crossing his ankle over his knee. He sat in it like a throne.

“We need to talk, Hasannah.”

You weren't supposed to go to bed angry, but in this case, it would be better for me if he slept on it.

We need to talk was usually how Phase Four began. Except this had nothing to do with the Phases. We hadn’t even had disappointed sex yet.

Nothing made sense anymore.

“I'm so tired,” I said. “Can we talk after work tomorrow?”

“You almost died tonight. What do you think?”

He'd never used so controlled, so mild a voice with me. Always there was a thread of some warmth in it, whether anger or amusement or desire.

Now there was nothing.

“What was the advice Lord Ashlyun gave you?” I asked, stalling. “About how to deal with the girl?”

He watched me, and spoke softly. “The advice? He advised, Hasannah, that if I cared for you I should kill you gently. Because the fates that await our human bondeds are often so much more vicious.”

I didn’t move, a vice clamping around my lungs and tightening. “Are you going to kill me?”

“I should allow you to think so as part of your punishment.”

I’d begun to relax a little, but my body went rigid again, my breathing uneven. The pain from earlier lingered in my mind and now that I’d experienced exactly what a Fae could do. . .

His eyes hadn't changed, still the same glazed look I couldn’t classify. Coupled with the mild, mild tone and his motionless posture, I feared what it meant.

He wouldn't kill me, no.

But there were worse things. So many worse things.

He didn’t have to be with me. I could remain his official consort and be put in a box somewhere out of the way.

“If you're going to punish me,” I said, “I’d rather you got it over with.”

I wouldn't argue over his right to punish me. This was Casakraine.

“You have clearly never been punished, if you believe it will be easy or quick.”

I wrapped my hands in my dress. I'd been a fool. I’d thought the rules would never apply to me. I had never been the kind to seek out trouble or act out. I'd assumed I would dance, make a few select friends, live my life, and the only attention and drama I'd entertain would be on the stage, basking in the applause and adoration of a crowd after I took my final bow.

I hadn’t thought Andrei was cruel before this. But this emotionless, delicate torture was like a barbed whip.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“Are you? Convenient.”

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