Ren.

My breath caught as I stared down at the pale blue bedspread. I didn’t know if he was alive or dead or . . . worse. All I did know was that he wasn’t safe. The prince—Drake—had said that he was alive for now, but I wasn’t sure if I could trust those words. Sorrow welled up until a knot formed deep in my chest and tears burned my eyes.

If he was . . .

My fingers dug into the comforter as I exhaled harshly. I couldn’t let myself feel grief right now. Too much was at stake, and I was not safe. I needed to figure out where I was and how I could get far, far away from this place.

I lifted my gaze, scanning the ornate bedroom. The room was huge, with lavish furnishings. Two oversized chairs that reminded me of thrones sat in front of a large window. Across from the bed was a massive oak dresser. A standing mirror was in the corner next to an open door that led to what appeared to be a sizable bathroom.

The room smelled of rich balsam.

Gathering up my energy, I scooted toward the edge of the bed and peered down at the shiny hardwood floors. A plush white throw rug that looked as soft as a lamb covered half the floor. Carefully, I swung my legs off the bed. It was then that I realized my feet were bare. My boots and socks were gone, as was the iron stake hidden in my left boot.

I was weaponless.

“Shit,” I muttered.

With a shaky hand, I reached for the torn collar of my shirt. My necklace was gone, too. Double shit. I was susceptible to manipulation now. Tendrils of fear grew within me, washing over my chilled skin. The only way I could protect myself was to be careful, and to not let the fae make eye contact with me, but that was equivalent to the pull-out method when it came to not getting pregnant.

My hand closed into a fist and fell into my lap. As my feet hit the soft rug, a dozen horrible thoughts assaulted me. How long had Drake been masquerading as Ren? Instinct told me it was after the night I had told Ren about what I was, and he’d subsequently disappeared. I was praying that was the case, because the longer Ren could’ve been under their control, the worse things were.

Drake had touched me. He had kissed me, and I . . .

“Oh God,” I moaned, squeezing my eyes so tight that I saw tiny bursts of light.

Acids churned in my stomach as a mixture of betrayal and shame collided with anger. I was so going to kill the prince. I was going to find a wire brush and scrub down my body first, and then I was going to kill him with it.

I stood and took in my surroundings. Shuffling over to the door, I unsurprisingly found it locked. Another closed door led to an empty closet. There were no windows in the bathroom, but there was a ginormous Jacuzzi tub.

There was a small table between the throne chairs. A fancy, ceramic water pitcher that I doubt was ever used sat in the middle. Stepping around it, I checked out the window. No locks. I peered outside, and my shoulders slumped when I saw that I was several stories off the ground. There was no way I’d survive the jump. I scanned upward. Tall trees surrounded the property. The dull grass down below didn’t look like it had been touched in ages. Through the trees, I thought I saw muddy water.

I was definitely out of the city.

Footsteps echoed in the hallway. Turning around, I frantically scanned the room for a weapon of sorts. The pitcher was the only thing I could find. I grasped the cool handle, surprised by the heaviness. I tensed as the door opened.

A tall woman stepped inside. Even though I was without the clover, I still saw through the glamour. She was a fae, all silvery smooth skin and pointy ears. Her pale gaze moved to the bed. She frowned and turned to where I stood.

“She’s awake,” she said, speaking out into the hall.

My grip tightened on the handle. “Where am I?”

The female didn’t answer as she drifted further into the room.

“Where am I?” I repeated.

She raised a single eyebrow. “I don’t answer to you, cow.”

Cow? I fought the urge to roll my eyes. “You guys really need to come up with better insults.”

Her laugh was cold. “You should put that pitcher down before you hurt yourself.”

“No, thank you.” I glanced over her shoulder. The door was still open. I could make a run for it. I just needed a distraction. Once I was out in the hallway, though, I had no idea what I would face.

She cocked her head to the side. “We are having food brought to you. If you misbehave, you will net the consequences.”

“Ooh. Scary.”

The female’s lip curled. “I think we should starve you. Maybe then, when hunger is gnawing at you, you will gladly open your thighs—”

I threw the pitcher and then took off. Well, tried to take off. My muscles weren’t exactly cooperating in a timely fashion. The pitcher smacked into the side of the fae’s head, and her outraged shriek hit the air at about the same I got my legs to actually move. I stumbled around the chair, heading for the doorway.

The fae crashed into me from behind, taking me down. I hit the floor, and it knocked the air right out of my lungs. She flipped me over, and I took a swing. My knuckles glanced off her cheek, knocking her head to the side.

“Bitch!” she spat, grabbing my arm, and then it happened so fast.

Her teeth dug into my skin, and fiery pain erupted. Screaming, I pounded the side of her head with my free hand. She was biting me! The bitch was actually biting my arm. I hit her again, along the temple, and she let go. Bright red blood trickled down the side of her mouth.

She licked her lips. “Tastes like wine.”

I rolled out from under her, scrambling to my feet as a pair of legs entered the room, blocking my way out. I was fully prepared to bum-rush whoever was standing in the way.