He stared at you, his eyes cold and dark as the night sky---perhaps darker. His face was a cold mask of stone, his body language almost...lazy. He looked you up and down, betraying no emotion or thought. He put you on edge.

You'd spent three weeks wandering this unknown place called Prythian. You weren't sure how you ended up here, but you'd lost all hope after three weeks of barely surviving and keeping your sanity. This whole place seemed like it was designed to kill you. Now, this handsome yet regal man stood before you, no hint of pity or mercy in his gaze. A distant memory tugged at the back of your head when you'd passed the Spring Court: "Humans are unwelcome. If Amarantha gets a hand on those...she'll be beyond pleased."

You shudder in your thin clothes but couldn't move. Three weeks and then he--Rhysand, his name was---took me captive and was now taking me to this High Fae named Amarantha. She didn't sound like a person who was friendly. I trudged through the snow, bound, as we walked toward the large cave where she dwelled. Rhysand was a menace---he demonstrated his ruthlessness when he'd clawed into my mind when I refused to go with him. Since then, I kept quiet.

"Quit whining and walk," he barked. "We're almost there."