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Chapter Twelve

I nstead of leading them home, the door took them to Lore’s lair.

He was there waiting for them, but his previous cheer was missing. He was seated on a plush black-velvet armchair, and he was looking at them like they were household pests.

“So,” he mused, “you made it back from the first tale in one piece, I see.”

“You tricked her,” said Grim with narrowed eyes. “You purposefully phrased the condition in a way that the curse would only allow the tale to be completed if she saved someone little more than a stranger. You always knew that saving me wasn’t enough.”

Lore’s shadowy face stretched in a gruesome imitation of a smile.

“Perhaps,” he allowed. “But it seems like dear Serena surprised me. How was I supposed to know she would try to put herself at risk for a mere robber girl?”

“You wouldn’t know,” said Serena. “People—beings— like you who do not view all life as sacred, could never understand something like friendship and sacrifice.”

“And I suppose you will teach me?” he asked mockingly.

“I don’t give a damn about whether you learn that or not,” she replied. “I am only here to break the curse. Your twisted morals are of no interest to me.”

Fury radiated from Grim. “Show us how to return. We have passed your test for tonight, you cannot keep us any longer.”

“Can’t I?”

Grim smiled, and for the first time Serena was able to see the dangerous man that lay behind the carefully blank mask he had cultivated.

“You could try,” he said softly. “And then you can see what happens when you break the rules of the game. Curses do not like to be messed with.”

Serena shivered a little at his lethal tone, not understanding why she sensed a foreign presence emanating from him. It did not make her feel sick the way Lore’s shadows, or the Ice Queen’s mirror had. No, it simply made her hair stand on end, like one would feel in the presence of a predator.

“Fine!” snapped Lore .

He gestured to a portrait behind him.

“Just step through that, and you’ll be home,” he said. “Oh, and Serena?”

She looked at him warily.

“I underestimated you this time,” he purred. “I won’t do so again.”

His shadows slunk toward her, surrounding her. Frigid cold washed over her, leaving her clammy and shivering. Grim grabbed her arm and pulled both of them through the portrait—

—a portrait that was a painting of her cottage.