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In her rooms, Rynae Corda, the only daughter of Callum Corda, the Bruin Sidhe’s king, lay on her bed. Unable to sleep, she lay staring up at the ornate wood carvings all along the underside of her bed’s canopy.

Though it was night, her eyes could easily make out even the finest detail. The carvings told a story. It was one she loved, one she remember from childhood, told to her time and again by her beloved nurse, Eda. She had been more of a mother than the woman who’d born Rynae. Her guide, her mentor, her friend.

Now dead.

She closed her eyes before the tears could fall.

There would be no more tears.

She would bury each and every vestige of emotion under a layer of ice. She would need it, because if she let herself feel anything, she would feel everything. And the fear of what lay before her was enough to choke her.

Eda had tried to help her escape.

Eda had paid with her life.

Nae would pay with her virgin’s blood in six more months, and in guilt for the rest of her very long life.

“You have nothing to feel guilty over, beloved.”

Nae tuned out the familiar sound of her brother’s voice, although it was hard to do when he spoke within her mind.

He sighed and although hundreds, perhaps thousands of miles separated them, she heard the sad, resigned noise as easily as if he had stood next to her. Of course, he’d never once stood next to her—she’d never even met him outside these silent communications and the odd dream.

Only thirty-two, Nae had been born years after the bloody goblins had taken her brother captive. There had been times when her brother had been the only grounding force in her life, the only one who’d ever truly cared for her.

It was the royal blood in her veins, her bosom, hips and belly that made her so very valuable to her father. A royal whore, already sold off to the highest bidder. Nae squeezed her eyes tight and tried not to think about Guldric, tried not to think about what was coming.

“You sound resigned to your fate, Nae. But you cannot resign yourself to it—you cannot give in.”

She rolled onto her back and sighed. “So very easy for you to say, brother mine. But you’re not the one held captive in this gilded cage. The one ally I had is now dead, dead because she tried to help me. What else should I do but resign myself?”

“So you’ve changed your mind about being mated to the Eruke?”

Changed her mind? Nae shuddered and covered her face with her hands. No, she hadn’t changed her mind. She’d rather slit her wrists with a dinner knife—except her father had already foreseen that possibility and her food was served to her cut down to pieces so small, even a small child could chew them with ease. She’d rather throw herself from her window and crash into the hard, unforgiving seas below, but he’d placed bars of iron, platinum and silver over her windows. The bars were done in a lovely, artistic swirl, and they very effectively kept her from taking that avenue as well.

“I do not wish you to escape by ending your life, beloved, so please, stop thinking about all the ways you’d like to end it,” Valin said, his mind’s voice harsh and cold.

“Even death is better than mating with that…that monster,” she said, rolling onto her belly and pressing her face to her pillow. The Eruke truly was a monster, though his outward appearance was a bit deceptive. He was easy enough to look upon, she supposed. But she feared him. She feared the lust in his eyes when he looked upon her, the way he’d fondled her in front of her father as they discussed the marriage agreement, the way he’d pinched her nipples and then shoved her skirts up and pushed two thick, long fingers into her virgin’s sheath to check for her hymen. He’d grunted in satisfaction and then warned her father, “She’s to be just as tight the night we wed.”

Her father had shown no emotion at the display. None. Not disgust, outrage, not even amusement. He couldn’t have cared less to see his daughter treated so.

Perversely, Nae had taken to using her own fingers on her body far more often than she had before. Whether it would make a difference, she didn’t know, though in truth, she doubted it would matter overmuch.

It wasn’t the marriage bed she feared, not truly. It was just going to the marriage bed with him. He would hurt her. She saw the desire for pain in his eyes. Because he was so much larger than she, that pain would be even worse. He stood nearly two heads taller and Nae wasn’t a petite woman. She was slender, but like many elves, she was tall, easily as tall as many mortal men. But Guldric was nearly twice as wide as she was, weighed twice as much, if not more. He had big, battle-hardened hands, the brutal strength one would expect to find in a barbarian king and absolutely nothing of kindness or compassion lived within him.

She knew. Because she could see within his heart. If he had any kind of soul, she would have seen within it as well. But he was soulless, and there was nothing there for her to see.

To see within the heart and soul, these were her gifts. To look within another and know their strengths, their weakness, their passions and their fears. It was that gift, perhaps, as much as her body that Guldric wanted.

He thought he’d use her as his pet seer by day and his broodmare by night. The Bruin Sidhe’s men might not father children easily, but their women, it seemed, were very fertile. Particularly with seed from those outside their own kind.

“I cannot do this, Valin,” she whispered and damn her weakness, those tears once more burned her eyes. She blinked them back, determined not to give her father another tear, determined not to give her future another tear. She might be the daughter of a corrupt, treacherous man, but her blood was royal. Her blood was elvish. Once upon a time, that had meant something grand.

“You are something grand, beloved. Do not despair. You’ll have another chance, a chance to escape what our father would do. You must just be ready…and brave enough to take that chance.”