Page 7 of Maneater

My eyes lifted to his. For a moment, I studied him, not the heir, but the man. He couldn’t have been more than a year older than me, though he bore the arrogance of someone raised far from suffering. Privilege left a distinct imprint. He wore it effortlessly.

“What do you desire, Odessa?”

To be free.

“I’m not sure how to answer that, Your Highness.”

“Have you been with a man before?”

The question struck without warning, and I said nothing at first.

“Have you?” he repeated.

I cleared my throat, composed. “I have, Your Highness.”

“That’s surprising.”

I’d known men in Brier Len. Some fleeting, others forgettable.

None of them mattered, really—except for one.

The memory stirred faintly, and it came with a dull ache in my chest. At twenty, I was already past the age most skirtsfolk wed.

My father couldn’t afford a dowry, and I’d come to expect a life untouched by marriage.

As the prince’s consort now, any trace of that possibility had vanished entirely.

The prince stepped closer, his eyes fixed on mine. He brushed a knuckle along my cheek and tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear.

“I’d like to kiss you,” he said. “May I?”

I should have bowed my head, murmured something obedient. But my nature was not so easily tamed.

“Do I have a choice, Your Highness?” I asked, voice level.

“You do.” His mouth curved, eyes alight with quiet amusement. “You’re always free to choose.”

My gaze dropped to his lips, and my throat tightened. Of course I could say no. But what would it truly mean? Refusing him might cost more than it gained, and even then, would he accept it?

This wasn’t how I’d imagined our first conversation. And I couldn’t yet read what kind of woman he wanted me to be. Compliant? Coy? A challenge?

His stare didn’t waver. He was waiting.

I gave a slight nod.

The prince lifted my chin with gentleness and leaned in. His kiss was soft, his fingers settling lightly at the back of my neck, thumb brushing along my jaw. As my eyes drifted shut, a strange thrill unfurled beneath my skin.

Maybe it was the intimacy of the moment. Or maybe it was the power behind the choice I’d made. Whatever it was, I leaned in, if only for a second.

The prince deepened the kiss, sensing my shift. A slow warmth pooled in my chest, blooming low in my belly. I felt myself want.

Then I pulled away.

My eyes opened. His stayed on me, gleaming with something unspoken. I stepped back, forcing distance between us. He didn’t follow, just ran his tongue across his upper lip with a slow, pleased drag.

“You’re dismissed,” he said.

My brows lifted. “Your Highness?”

“You may return to your chambers.”

I gave a silent nod and turned to leave, adjusting the sheer fabric of my night shift as I stepped away. But as I passed him, the prince reached out and caught my wrist.

“I’m looking forward to our time together, Odessa,” he murmured. “I think you will too.”

Heat crept into my cheeks. Unwelcome, but impossible to stop.

“I could taste the want on your lips,” he added, his grip loosening. “I hope you’ll stop pretending it isn’t there.”

He let go.

As I was led back to my chamber, only one truth rang louder than the sound of my footsteps on stone: I would find a way to leave this place. It was only a matter of time.

I brushed the memory aside and gently placed my hand over Gadriel’s, still resting on my shoulder. Closing my eyes, I leaned into his touch.

“You once told me you were looking forward to our time together,” I said softly. “I hope that still holds true.”

“It does,” Gadriel replied. “I’d think it was obvious, considering how I summon you each night.”

“I’m happy to hear it.” I gave a faint smile.

Gadriel slipped away from me, rising to seek another goblet of wine.

As he dressed in his trousers and settled into the chaise near the fire, I took the opportunity to smooth out the creases in my courtesan robes.

I poured a generous serving into a fresh goblet and brought it to him.

He accepted it with a quiet nod, raising an eyebrow at its weight before taking a measured sip.

His restraint amused me, especially coming from a man so steeped in indulgence.

This was a common trait among many of Hyrall’s noblemen.

Gadriel broke the silence. “In a fortnight, I’ll be traveling to Torhiel.”

I already knew, of course. But I let a trace of tension surface, as if the word unsettled me. “Torhiel? Why?”

“As I said before, political matters. The fifth cycle of the treaty falls on the winter solstice this year, and it’s Hyrall’s turn to fulfill its end.”

My knowledge of the treaty between Hyrall and Torhiel—the land of devils—was limited.

It had been forged centuries ago by monarchs long dead, a brittle attempt at preserving peace between our world and theirs.

Even in Brier Len, there were whispers of Torhiel.

Stories of cursed lands and sinful creatures, spoken in hushed tones by wary skirtsfolk.

I knew it wasn’t my place to ask, but the mention of Torhiel gave me the perfect excuse. “Isn’t it dangerous there? Wouldn’t it be wiser to send someone else in your stead?”

“This matter must be handled by the Crown,” he replied. “Traditionally, the king would attend, but with his attention elsewhere, the duty falls to me.”

“I see. And… how long will you be gone?”

“The journey to Torhiel takes nearly three months in winter. Negotiations with the devil kingdom could stretch that by several weeks.”

I felt my throat tighten. “So, six months. Maybe more.”

“At least,” he confirmed. “Preparations are already underway. I leave in two weeks. The kingsguard will be reinforced, and the city watch doubled. No one will enter or leave Hyrall’s gates without being vetted.

With the treaty nearing expiration, devil-blood cannot be trusted, especially with the veil this thin. ”

My pulse quickened. This was it. My chance.

If Gadriel took me with him, I’d finally be free of the castle. A year of playing the part, of biding my time, everything had brought me here. He had summoned me every night for twelve months. Surely he wouldn’t leave without me.

I silently prayed that time, that relentless force, was finally on my side. Freedom no longer felt like a distant vision. It was close. Tangible. Within reach.

It had to work. I would make it work.

“Take me with you, Gadriel.”

“No.”

The refusal landed like a blow. “Why?” I asked, stunned. “Please. Six months is no small span of time.”

“Your duty as my consort is to follow my commands.”

I sat beside him, lowering my voice. “Your Highness…”

“The journey to Torhiel is dangerous. It’s no place for women, least of all one like you. The lands are wild, and I won’t expose my favored consort to the threats of devilry. ”

He could never understand that the dangers didn’t concern me. This journey to Torhiel was my one chance at freedom, and that was all that mattered.

“Must I be kept behind doors for half a year?” I said carefully. “You’ll want someone to warm your bed. The king has traveled with his harem before. This wouldn’t be unusual.”

“My answer is no.” His tone cooled. “While the king has taken his harem on many journeys, he’s never brought them to Torhiel. And if your concern is the state of my bed, I’ll take one of the others.”

His words struck. My expression faltered, just enough to show the sting, and Gadriel saw it.

He pressed on cruelly. “The choice can be yours, then. Who shall I select? Leya? Rosette? Imogen?”

I didn’t answer. My hands curled into fists at my sides. If he left me here, I’d be trapped, cut off from any chance at freedom. Six months would pass like a second sentence. Half a year in this gilded prison, and what had I truly gained? I was still caged. Still silenced.

Gadriel must’ve sensed the shift in me, because his tone softened. He reached for me.

“Odessa,” he said, drawing me closer. “It’s only because you’re so valuable to me that I won’t risk putting you in harm’s way.”

I looked up at him steadily. “As your favored, it is my duty to serve. What danger could there be if I’m surrounded by your guards from dawn until dusk?”

He sighed.

It was clear then. No matter what I said, Gadriel would never truly see me. Not beyond what I was to him.

“Promise me you’ll at least think about it,” I said, the words carefully crafted.

He leaned in, kissed me softly, and whispered, “No.”

The panic in my eyes was genuine this time. The chain around my waist was proving itself to be rather unbreakable.