You play a dangerous game, girl.
 
 Perhaps, but something tells me that the prince likes this game, so we will play it until I get the opportunity to kill him.
 
 I sense Athriel’s eye roll.
 
 “Careful, human, that mouth of yours could get you into a lot of trouble.” His eyes drop to my lips, lingering there for a second too long. He holds out a hand to me, but I push past it, climbing into the carriage without his assistance.
 
 “So stubborn,” he says from behind me. Surprise causes me to pause as I take in the silky red seats and plump cushions inside the carriage. The dull wooden exterior gave no clue that the inside would look like this. I toss my bag onto the seat beside me, and a moment later, the prince climbs in, taking the seat across from me.
 
 I lean back and fold my arms across my chest as he slams the door to the carriage closed, leaving us in complete silence as though the outside world has been obliterated. I turn my head toward the small window, although I can see nothing through the dark mass that the shadows in the sky cast.
 
 The carriage jerks forward, and my skin prickles at the thought that this is really happening. Everything has changed. Willow is gone, Tori is dead, and I’m leaving Cora behind. And the sad truth is that getting Willow back will never return things to how they were—and all of it is my fault. I let my eyes close for a second as I imagine having to tell her that Tori is dead.Will she blame me? Will she even want to speak to me?
 
 It was not your fault,Athriel’s voice is soft.
 
 I open my eyes and push the haunting thoughts away. I need a clear head, and the last thing I can allow to creep in right nowis guilt. There will be plenty of time for that later. Right now, all I can think about is being trapped in this tiny space with the monster sitting across from me. He didn’t hesitate to wipe out an entire room full of humans simply so he could punish one of his own. I’ve heard rumors of his cruelty over the years, but this is far worse than anything I imagined.
 
 “Something you wish to say, human?”
 
 I realize in that moment that I’ve been staring at him and try as I may, the words just slip out.
 
 “You’re a monster.”
 
 He shrugs. “I’ve been called worse.”
 
 He leans back, watching me in a way that is too intense, and I hate it.
 
 “Why not just kill me like the others?”
 
 He rests his head against the cushion, crossing his arms across his chest. He yawns as though he’s just done a hard day of labor.
 
 “Because there are other ways to hurt a person. Imagine how he will feel when he sees me parading you around at balls, knowing that you belong to me now. The embarrassment alone will kill him.”
 
 “You’re sick.”
 
 This seems to make him laugh.
 
 “You do not fear me like the others. I’ve seen vampires who cower in my presence more than you.”
 
 I meet his eyes.
 
 “I risk death every time I extend a wrist to one of your kind. Why should I fear it anymore today?”
 
 He studies me with a keen interest.
 
 “As I said, there are far more creative ways to hurt a person.”
 
 “And you intend to hurt me?” I hate the fear that I catch in my voice.
 
 “Not if you behave and be the obedient little pureblood you were trained to be.”
 
 I narrow my eyes at him.
 
 “Careful, human,” he warns.
 
 “Stop calling me that.”
 
 “Why? That is what you are, are you not?”