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“You’re bleeding,” she finally said.

He followed her gaze to his arms. The boy had dug into his forearms with his nails. “I’ve had worse.”

Electricity snapped down his spine as her gaze roamed over his arms and chest. “I can see that.”

What was it about her that called the primal side of himself?

“What do we do now?” she asked, nodding to the unconscious boy.

“He’ll be interrogated.”

“You won’t kill him?”

“No. Even monsters have their limits.”

She nodded, accepting his words. “I suppose that is true. No being can be truly evil in every aspect.”

“My father can be.”

Wren pulled a face. “He is the exception to the rule.” A pause. “What do you want from me, Prince?”

He shifted slightly so he could meet her gaze. “Your cooperation.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“You shouldn’t,” he volleyed back.

“I am your wife in word only.”

“I planned as much.”

Something loosened in her expression. Relief? “I can’t stay here.”

“No, you cannot.” He gestured to the boy. “It’s too dangerous.”

“I hate you.”

“Noted, but we’re both stuck in this situation together.”

She arched a brow. “Which is?”

“Trying to survive my father’s court.” He leaned closer and her breath stuttered. “We are enemies, but we have a common goal. I promise to protect you to the best of my ability, but you must follow my every command.”

“I will not obey you. You are not my master.”

“In the eyes of the Verlanti, I own you,” he pointed out.

Her jaw set. “No man can own me.”

“Society expects you to act a certain way. In privacy, you may do what you like, but in public, you play the good, little wife.”

“What do I get out of it? Why would I help you at all?”

“Because you want to return home, to your people. I can help with that. All you have to do is say yes.”

The princess wasn’t stupid. He was offering a lifeline.

“You are not my friend.”