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“You were sent here as my prisoner,” he said. “Which will it be, vicious one? Six years with me or a chance to be free?”

I glared at him, breathing hard.

“If you knew, why didn’t you lock me up from the start?”

He smirked. “Who said I keep my prisoners locked up?”

“Where do you keep them then?”

“Shouldn’t you ask where I will keep you?”

I did not answer, and the longer he stared at me, the more I wished to disappear. Perhaps the ground would open up and swallow me whole so I would not have to face how I felt beneath him.

After a few seconds, he spoke.

“Guess my true name,” he said.

I blinked. “What?”

“You have seven days to guess my true name, and I will set you free.”

I took several deep breaths as I processed his proposal. I was not so eager to be free that I would blindly jump at the first offer. All deals with fae—especially elves—were traps.

“How many guesses do I have?”

“As many as you wish,” he said.

“I do not speak in wishes,” I said.

He raised a brow. “Don’t you?”

I ground my teeth. “Say it another way.”

He chuckled. “As many as you would like.”

“Will you keep count?”

He smirked.

“Clever creature,” he said. “Of course.”

“I thought so.”

I would have to be careful with my answers and keep them to a minimum.

“And if I fail?”

“Then you fail,” he said. “And you will be my prisoner for six years, plus one year more for every wrong answer you give.”

“And what are the consequences of guessing correctly?”

His smile turned wicked, his gaze shrewd, and I caught a glimpse of what lurked beneath his skin—perhaps the true beast.

“Speak my name and find out.”

I stared at him, weighing my options, all with dire consequences.

Even if I did manage to guess the beast’s name correctly, what sort of evil would I unleash?