CHAPTER NINE
STERLING
“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 said please, 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. Comfortable warmth.
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 in his room…
“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 clenched her 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. Anyone else.
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?”
Winter prowled closer to the cage, his blue-eyed gaze holding hers.
Sterling scowled. “Why are you looking at me as though you’re studying an animal?”
“Besides the color of your irises, Cyan looks nothing like you,” Winter pointed out and stepped back while continuing to study her.
“Because we have different fathers.” You fool.
A line formed between his brows. “And where are they?”
“My mother didn’t know who they were. That happens when one is forced into giving pleasure for coin as their only option to survive. And you very much know the fate of our grandmother.”
Winter narrowed his eyes. “And you know what she did to my mother.”
There was no need to rehash the past again this morning. Perhaps death was owed to her grandmother, but that didn’t make her hate the Prince of Carnage any less.
She lifted her arm and took a whiff, feeling the layers of grime and dirt caking her skin. “Can I at least take a bath?”
“No,” he said simply.
Sterling massaged the back of her neck. “What about letting me out to stretch?”
“Let’s not be hasty now.” He chuckled, his face returning to his neutral expression as if he were angry with himself for letting amusement slip from his lips. “Too many wolves have died by your hand. The cage is your primary quarters until the day you die.”
“And when will that be? Assuming I win this game.”
“However long you live.” Winter held her gaze for a long moment, and whatever he felt was hidden in the depths of his eyes. If she murdered Winter, would her emotional wounds heal completely? No, but it would make her feel better.
Without a word, Winter entered his bathing chamber, the sound of running water filling a tub echoing. Envy crawled through her that he could clean himself while she suffered in a cage and worried over whether her brother was being treated properly.
As the water swished when he must’ve sunk into the liquid’s depths, Sterling was reminded that the prince was nude—how he’d easily undressed in front of her the previous day, the sight of the royal tattoo she’d seen so long ago accompanied by his firm buttocks, and how badly she wanted to kick him right in the rear.
Tonight she would make certain Cyan was safe, and then the Prince of Carnage could do with her as he wished.
After long minutes ticked by, Winter emerged from the bathing chamber and ran a hand through his wet locks, trails of water gliding down his neck and bare chest. He’d only dressed in trousers and boots, not even sparing her a glance as he left the room.
For the remainder of the day, Sterling stared out the window, imagining she was walking beside Cyan while he folded a sheet of paper into a dragon.
She wouldn’t let Winter notice she enjoyed looking at the forestry when he returned or he might close the curtains.
She’d been brought two meals by the female servant, Amalli, and the guard, Lijah.
Neither treated her unwell or called her names as Micah had.
“It’s time, bitch,” Micah ground out as the door opened and he stepped into the room. Sterling’s fortune of the day had finally started its downward spiral.
A musky smell radiated off him when he inched closer and hit the bars of her cage with his large hand. She remained silent while he opened the iron door to yank her out, his hand squeezing her wrist. “How about a quick fuck before you die?”
No longer could she hold back her temper. He’d been the one to scar her, to give her grandmother the final death blow. “How about I cut off your cock and feed it to the other wolves?” Sterling spat.