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I n person, Prince Langdon was even more beautiful.

Tall and lean, with silky black hair framing his narrow poet’s face. Against his pale skin, his lips were a dark, sensuous red, and the diamonds that outlined his ears and brows sparkled like tiny stars.

Rosana realized she was gaping. She closed her mouth with a snap.

“My lord.” Blaer dipped her shining blond head. “Peace to you and yours.”

“Peace, Lady Blaer,” the prince returned in a low, rich voice.

He paced forward, quiet as death, his gaze on Rosana. Distantly, she noted a night fae’s unpleasant scent, but against his unearthly beauty, it somehow didn’t matter.

He inclined his head to her. “And to you, Senhorita do Rio.”

So he knew who she was. She jerked her chin in acknowledgement. “Peace.”

“I offer her as a gift,” Blaer said.

“Do you?” The prince lifted a winged black brow.

A gift? Rosana forgot how gorgeous he was and narrowed her eyes. There were rules about these things. The fae couldn’t just snatch you without your permission.

“I agree to nothing,” she said. “I’m here against my will, and I demand to be returned to Rock Run immediately. My lord.”

Blaer just smiled.

Langdon stopped in front of Rosana. He was at least a foot taller. She had to tip her head back to meet his eyes.

He stared back, growing more beautiful by the second. Power enfolded her, as if he’d sprouted black wings and embraced her.

Her gaze snagged on his full mouth. She could almost feel his lips against hers, soft, caressing.

The dark wings tightened around her like a warm cocoon.

Her breath sighed out.

The prince’s mouth curved in a faint smile.

Uneasiness skipped up her spine. She dragged her gaze from his mouth, pulled back her shoulders. “My lord? I repeat, I’m here against my will.”

“She speaks the truth, Blaer?” Langdon asked, his gaze still on Rosana. “She didn’t enter my court willingly?”

The fae lady’s smile faded. She shot Rosana a dark look. “Yes, my lord.”

“A miscalculation, no doubt,” the prince returned silkily. “But perhaps I can convince her to stay.” He smiled into Rosana’s eyes. “What do you think, my dear? Would you like to spend a few days with me?”

That unearthly beauty tugged at her again. Was he using a glamour on her?

She scowled and wrenched her gaze from his. “I already gave you my answer,” she said to his chest. “I want to leave. Now .”

“Is there nothing I can do to change your answer to a yes?” He fingered one of her curls. The dark power constricted.

Tighter, tighter.

Her heart sped up. She took short, rapid breaths, unable to fill her lungs. She fought the urge to thrash wildly at the invisible cocoon. He’d only use her fear to ensnare her further.

Instead, she stared stonily at the V of his shirt. “No, my lord.”

Langdon knew she was afraid. So did Blaer. They had both stilled, their bodies vibrating with a greedy hunger.

But the prince nodded and to her surprise, released her hair and stepped back.

Her breath whooshed out.

Blaer glanced between the two of them, frowning. Rosana edged away from her.

“You’re hungry.” Langdon waved his hand and a steaming bowl of fish stew appeared on the table with the silver vase.

“I’ve had my cook prepare something.” Another flick of his fingers and a basket of crusty brown bread settled beside the stew, along with a bowl of fruit and a plate of small, perfect chocolates.

Rosana eyed the food, her mouth watering. He was right. She hadn’t eaten since dinner last night.

It could be a trick. Eat his food, and you’ll end up “owing” him.

She swallowed and looked away. “No, thank you.”

“Then perhaps some wine?” A crystal glass appeared in her hand.

She stared down at the pale gold liquid. Maybe just a sip? She moistened her lips. It looked so good, and her throat still ached from Luc’s attack.

Her fingers tightened on the stem. She set the wine on the table. “Not right now.”

The prince shrugged a shoulder. “As you wish. But please, sit.” He indicated a black burned-velvet couch on the other side of the room.

Rosana fingered the stiletto in her back pocket. For courage.

Because using it was a last resort. Even if she managed to escape this room, she’d still have to evade any guards and somehow open the portal to the outside world.

“With respect, Lady Blaer brought me here against my will. She admitted it herself. Now, either let me leave or I’ll call on Queen Cleia.” She spoke the sun fae woman’s name loud and clear.

Langdon picked up the wine she’d refused, sipped it. “I should tell you that the queen can’t get through our wards. In fact, it’s unlikely she can even trace you to the court.”

“She might surprise you,” Rosana returned, but her heart sank.

She was on her own, then. Even if Cleia had heard her earlier cry for help, she had no reason to suspect that Rosana had been taken to New Moon.

And Dion might have a hunter’s Gift, but Luc had made sure she couldn’t leave a trail.

She’d been closed up in his car until they’d reached the forest.

Blaer shifted impatiently on her sky-high heels. “My lord?”

“You did well,” Langdon replied. “I accept your gift.”

Rosana glared at them both. “I am not a fucking gift.”

The two fae ignored her. “So I’ve won a place at your court?” Blaer asked.

The prince inclined his head. “Olivier will assign you an apartment. You will, of course, refrain from any attempts to influence my court. You’ll find I’m not as forgiving as King Sindre.”

Blaer’s face set into a pleasant mask. And it was a mask. Rosana scented her anger, mixed with a cold determination.

“I understand, my lord.” She sketched a small bow.

The prince studied the tall blond mixed-blood for a moment. “Do you?” he murmured, and then turned to Rosana, effectively dismissing Blaer.

Behind him, the fae lady’s eyes blazed, twin red fires flaring to life inside obsidian pupils. But she meekly murmured, “Peace to you and yours,” and strode to the door, silver heels clicking on the marble floor.

A portly human with deep brown skin and a shiny bald head appeared in the doorway. “If you’ll come with me, my lady. I believe we have an empty apartment near the north gardens.”

Rosana eyed Langdon, tight-jawed. “You won’t get away with this.”

“You’re angry,” he said—and smiled. But of course, to a night fae, anger was like catnip.

Her hands balled at her sides. “You know who I am,” she said evenly. “Keep me here against my will, and my brother will come after you with everything he has.”

“You’re the woman I saw in the scrying glass,” he said as if she hadn’t spoken.

She stilled. “Am I?”

“Oh, yes.” A tilt of his gorgeous head as he examined her, a wolf with an intriguing—and very tasty—rabbit. “Which brings me to an interesting question: why were you looking for me?”

Oh, Lord. She did not want to bring Merry into this—or Adric, for that matter.

She spread her hands. “It just…happened.” Which was true enough. “Is that what this is about? You’re pissed off that I accidently spied on you?”

“Pissed off?” he repeated. “No, merely curious. I assure you, I had nothing to do with Lady Blaer bringing you here.”

Somehow, he was just a foot away again, that dark, seductive power licking at her. And gods, it was tempting to give in to it.

No. I love Adric.

But Adric doesn’t want you. Not enough anyway. He cut the mate bond, and then he left you. You begged him to take you along, told him if he didn’t, he’d die—and he still left.

Her heart squeezed.

“You’re distressed,” the prince murmured. “But there’s no need. As you say, you’ve agreed to nothing.” He paused. “Yet.”

She shook her head and slipped around him. Putting some distance between herself and that seductive aura.

She picked up the wine glass, toyed with the stem without drinking.

Stall for time. Think about Dion, not Adric.

Because Dion would come for her. That she knew, as surely as she knew the sun rose in the east and set in the west.

Just picturing her large, very capable brother heartened her.

“It’s you who was spying on Rock Run,” she said. “If I happened to See you, that’s not my fault. We just—intersected somehow.”

Langdon nodded without confirming or denying that he’d been spying on her clan, or at least, on Merry.

“So you’re a Seer.”

Rosana’s spine prickled. “I didn’t say that.”

“No,” he agreed. His black eyes scrutinized her like she was an insect under a microscope. “I seem to recall your mother is, too. But then, her mother was a quarter fae.”

Rosana swallowed. She didn’t like that this dark prince knew so much about her family. But that was the fae; they collected information like dragons did treasure, hoarding it on the chance it might be useful.

“The question is, why were you scrying for me?”

She couldn’t tell Langdon about Merry. Rock Run had never officially confirmed that the teenager was still alive. It didn’t matter that he knew differently. Admit it straight out, and the night fae would have grounds to retaliate, resulting in open war between New Moon and her clan.

She saw only one option—admit she was a Seer.

“I was curious.” She threw his own words back at him. It was the truth, after all. “I didn’t expect to See anything.”

Least of all, Prince Langdon himself. The most she’d hoped for was some clue that might help Merry.

“You’re quite Gifted for one so young. You’re being trained?”

“Yes.” She set down the wine glass, nerves shrieking at all these questions. But he was a powerful fae, and she was in his territory. Answer his questions, and maybe he’d be satisfied, let her leave.

Yeah, right. And jellyfish can fly. But she had no choice but to play along.

“Odd, that I haven’t heard of you before now.” He sank gracefully onto the burned-velvet couch, crossed one long leg over the other. “I could work with you. It’s been many turns of the sun since I encountered a Seer with such a strong natural Gift.”

Oh, no. Hell, no.

“It’s good of you to offer,” she returned smoothly, “but the sun fae are overseeing my training.”