Page 19 of Wicked Prince of Carnage
Her mother had mentioned that Sterling’s grandmother always kept secrets, even from her. But had there been an inkling at all? Not once had she visited her grandmother’s house before her mother’s death. Her grandmother always visited them, and Sterling was never allowed to go back with her. The way she avoided talking about the wolves…
Her grandmother had pleaded with Prince Winter.Let her go.She’s innocent. She doesn’t know anything.
“I was there when my mother died. I saw your grandmother,” Winter barked.
Her grandmother had killed Winter’s mother… But why? The queen was the only noble wolf shifter who’d tried to help the human villages. It didn’t make sense.
“I didn’t know,” Sterling said. “Cyan is nothing like me. Please just let him go and do with me as you wish.”
“I can do what I want with you either way.” He backed away from her and sank down onhisbed. “Tomorrow night, the true games will begin.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
WINTER
Sterling finally broke the silence by asking, “What do you meangamestomorrow night?”
“You’ll see,” Winter cooed. “I assume you’ll find I’m being rathergracious.” He taunted her with the word she’d hurled at him during the hanging.
Sterling didn’t scream at him like he believed she would. Instead, she stared at him with narrowed eyes while the prince watched her from his bed, the cage’s chain creaking as it gently swayed. Dried mud still clung to bits of her face and arms, though most had flaked off. Her clothing was an entirely different story, and her hair was matted in place.
He knew if he didn’t have her brother locked in his cellar that she would’ve spewed death threats. The edges of his lips curled up as he imagined what she would come up with—death by a thousand cuts, thrown in an oubliette with hungry rats, skinned alive. Perhaps even a promise to make herself a cloak from his wolf’s pelt.
All impossible from her perch. The cage had been in his room for years, yet he hadn’t used it until now.
“I came to you, didn’t I?” Sterling said between clenched teeth. “If you think I’m going to attempt to rattle this cage like an infant when there is clearly no escape, then you truly are a fool.”
“Hmm.” He smirked and set his thoughts to what having her meant. While he’d set out that day to make a point to the pack not to betray him, he’d managed to do something even better.
For years, his father had attempted to catch Red Riding Hood. Spent countless resources and sacrificed dozens of wolves, all because he underestimated the threat. Because hehad the pack looking for a human with a lifetime of hunting experience.A hunter, born and bred.
Shewasall of those things. Her lifetime was simply shorter than expected. Winter reclined back onto his elbow and watched her.
“Did hunters train you?” he asked. “Is that how you improved?”
“I don’t know any hunters.” She glowered. “My skills are my own. I practiced day and night until I got better.”
The skill of hunting was in her blood—like her bitch grandmother.
Sterling’s grandmother had lived alone—he’d made sure of it before assembling wolves to attack her the day Sterling got her scars. One experienced hunter, a pack of wolves. He’d enjoyed seeing the old woman die. Watching as his wolves ripped her apart, tearing her limb from limb. He’d never expected her young granddaughter to be there with a newborn. A granddaughter he’d found in the woods prior and thought her oddly intriguing. That was before he’d discovered what world she belonged to. And now… She could’ve avoided being caged, kept her brother from being at Winter’s mercy, if she’d simply listened to him and gone far away.
Sterling glared at him, hatred burning in her green eyes. Her chest heaved with every breath, her hands curled into fists in her lap.
“Call me a bastard, I know you want to,” he taunted. When she remained silent, he added, “That’s fine, you can keep thinking it. But you should know that my parents were mated for years before I came along, so I’m nothing of the sort.”
Sterling rolled her eyes. “Where’s my brother?”
Winter sat forward again and cocked his head, studying her with a tiny smirk. “Safe.”
“I want to see him.”
He stood and sauntered to where her cage hung in the corner, running his fingertips along the cool iron bars. “No.”
“I—”
“You don’t make demands, human.” He lifted his chin to better meet her gaze. “You sit there and look pretty.”
It wouldn’t be hard. The cage wasn’t tall enough for her to stand, and shewasattractive—scars and all. Her trousers hugged her thighs, and her tunic was tight across her chest, making her assets quite clear. It was a shame she was destined to die such a horrible death … as soon as he decided onwhichdeath to give her.
