“I will make sure to get blood everywhere if you decide to use that on me.” Feyre words were a lot braver than she felt when she spotted the High Lord with a sharp knife. She remembered the rumours, the warnings, and yet bringing her to his house to kill her would be very stupid. He no doubt would get away with it though.

Keeping her head held high and refusing to show any kind of doubt or fear, Feyre moved past him. She couldn’t stop herself from brushing against him as she moved past to the counter where he had been fusing with the salad.

She turned her back to the counter and with a little hop, she was sitting on it, a feet or two away from where he was working. She eyed the salad, trying to remember when was the last time she had anything fresh. It had been a very long time.

“So I’m your prisoner? Why is the ring so important? Is it an engagement ring? Are you courting an Omega?”