Page 23 of Wicked Prince of Carnage
“Your Highness,” Sterling said as sweetly as she could muster. “If you want to make the game a challenge for the participants, then let me eat, drink, and piss.Please.”You fucking cocky asshole.
Winter ran a finger across his shapely lower lip as he smirked. “Since you saidplease, I’ll consider it.”
“Please consider it.” She blinked innocently, and he arched a brow.
The prince hadn’t mentioned the rules for the game tomorrow night just yet, but one thing was clear, she wouldn’t be competing against wolf shifters. Thank the gods she was given the courtesy that they’d be human. Without a bow, she would easily become a mutilated corpse against wolves.
Winter strode away from her and, to her surprise, collected the food plate and glass of water beside his goblet. He opened the cage, then held them out, waiting for her to accept. She paused, wondering if he would hurl them at her. When he didn’t, she cautiously took the things from him. She partly wished the glass of water were the mead he’d been savoring, but she needed her mind clear and focused on the game.
Sterling set the plate in her lap while Winter locked the cage. Without an ounce of hesitation, she drank half the glass of water as he went into another room and returned with a copper chamber pot.
“You want me to relieve myself in front of you?” Sterling cocked her head after he opened the cage door once more. If Cyan wasn’t held prisoner, she would’ve leapt straight from the cage and jabbed his eye sockets with her thumbs.
“It’s what a caged animal would do.” Winter shrugged.
“Exactly something the Prince of Carnage would say.” She reached for the chamber pot just as he moved to set it beside her. Her fingers brushed his, and she yanked her hand back from his warmth.Comfortablewarmth.
Winter flopped onto the bed and took out a block of wood and a carving knife from inside the night table’s drawer. Even as he etched into the wood with his blade, she could’ve sworn he watched her out of the corner of his eye.
Sterling stuffed a chunk of the tender duck into her mouth—she hadn’t eaten a thing since a slice of jerky and a piece of fruit for breakfast. Not once had any of her meals ever tasted this delectable, the savory blend of seasonings sweeping across her tastebuds. “Don’t you have somewhere to go?” she asked while chewing another delicious piece of dark meat. He could’ve given her something cold and old or even nothing at all, though she was still in a cage inhisroom…
“No,” he said, his voice uninterested.
Sterling polished off the meal and water. She wasn’t the least bit ashamed of herself for licking her fingertips clean. “Are you going to tell me the rules of the game, or must it remain a deep, dark secret?”
“Think of it as a surprise.”
She pursed her lips to keep from cursing him and used the chamber pot. Just as she fastened her trousers, a loud knock pounded on the door.
Winter slowly went to answer it, seeming to have all the time in the world, and Sterling craned her neck to listen. Micah’s gruff voice spilled into the room. “Bael’s dead. An arrow to the eye and another to the neck. The man from the meat shop is gone.”
“I told Bael to remain unseen. Nosy bastard. Tell the pack that this is a reminder to listen.” The door closed and Winter strode casually toward her while trailing a finger down the center of his bare chest, veering it toward his heart. She clenchedher jaw, averting her gaze from his taut muscles and defined abs. “You’re lucky I don’t pierce your heart tonight for killing him.”
Sterling scoffed. “You’re the one who sent him to spy on me.”
Winter shrugged. “What did you expect?”
“What about my brother? Is he being fed? Or are you going to punish him for things I did?”
“He’s receiving meals.” The prince lay back on his bed, staying above the fur blankets as he stared up at the ceiling. She couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking about. All she could recall was how he’d confessed to her that her grandmother had murdered his mother. But the prince could’ve easily given her grandmother a less gruesome death in return, not allow his wolves to savagely tear her into pieces. Sterling clenched her fists, pushing the daunting memory away. It wouldn’t have only been his mother her grandmother had killed but more—many more than Sterling ever had.
Winter’s eyes drifted to her for a moment before shutting, and his breath grew steady. Instead of turning away, Sterling continued to observe the wicked prince. His features were softer, his lips parted. The women in Bloodstorm knew the prince was achingly pretty, and she’d heard rumors of a mate he’d rejected so that he could fuck whomever he wanted. Which was quite obvious by how many times he visited the local brothels.
If only he’d given into Sterling fucking him in exchange for releasing her brother. It would’ve been simple, just close her eyes and pretend he was someone else.Anyoneelse.
Sterling gripped her hair—she should’ve just left everything alone after abandoning her grandmother’s that day. Yet she hadn’t been able to…
A muscle cramp radiated through her thigh and she stretched her leg the best she could. Gooseflesh covered her arms, but she wouldn’t dare ask to use the prince’s fur blanket. She’d rather remain cold than listen to his voice again.
As Sterling leaned against the iron bars, muffled whispers escaped the prince. “Why would you do that, you fucking cunt?” he snarled.
Was he talking about her? It wouldn’t be a stretch if he was. She hoped the dream was of an arrow piercing his heart. With a smile, she closed her eyes and softly spoke a prayer to the gods that she would win the game to protect her brother.
“Human,” Winter cooed, his fingers tapping against the iron of her cage.
Sterling groaned as she opened her eyes to daylight seeping into the room. The curtains were drawn back, revealing two ornate glass doors leading to a balcony where she could see a beautiful view of the lush forest.
“Can’t I sleep a little longer?” she croaked, tucking her knees to her chest. “Isn’t the game at night?”
