The cell was freezing. Deathly cold, as if icicles hung from the ceiling. The feeling was only accentuated by the broken glass on the floor, and the whips and chains lining the stone walls.

“Who are you?” A deep voice asked suddenly.

A shiver racked up your spine, and you turned around slowly.

A man stood there, encompassed by the shadows. His brown bobbed hair framed his handsome face and piercing blue eyes. He was absolutely massive, his broad shoulders, muscular chest and arms, and long legs practically bursting out of the fine clothing he was in.

The Prince had become a prisoner in his own palace, and now you’d be staying with him.

Rumor had it that he had gotten so restless after the disappearance of his bride-to-be, Odette, that his mother, Queen Uberta, had decidedly locked him away until further notice. And clearly to her, what better than for him to have someone to share a room with?

“I said, who are you?” Derek repeated gruffly.