So long as he didn’t touch the cursed ring between her legs, she’d be able to keep her head clear. And now that she was clean, the first port of call was to find out what he planned to do with her so she could start working on her escape.

Selma walked to the bedroom door and peered into the dim hallway. Not too many steps to her right was the locked and bolted front door to the apartment. Just for a moment she considered running for it, but she had no idea where she was in relation to her abandoned car, and she’d dropped her purse with her car keys and most of her money when the female demons dragged her into the warehouse

No, even if she could get past all the locks, her only option was to find the demon Lord and see what game he intended to play.

She found him in the kitchen, hunched on a bar stool in front of a marble-countered island hosting an obscenely large display of food. He was slouched with his chin resting on his knuckles and a facial expression that could only be described as brooding.

Selma hesitated at the threshold, uncertain how to proceed. Despite the safety and comfort of waking up in his embrace, his looming form made her draw in a shaky breath. Now that she was conscious and aware of what he was, she felt more than a little nervous in his presence.

“Come. Eat. You need food—a Breeder should never be so malnourished.”

She blinked at the command and pressed a hand against her stomach. Sure, she’d lost some weight while on the road, and she hadn't made the healthiest food choices when she did scarf something down, but in no way would she be considered malnourished—not by human standards. Apparently demons preferred their sex toys somewhat plump.

Biting back a retort for his presumption that her weight was any of his business, she slid closer in silence. She was pretty hungry, and the spread on the counter made her mouth water. Just at a glance she noticed smoked salmon, bagels, strawberries, eggs, and a variety of cheeses.

“Did you prepare this for me?” she asked as she scooted onto the too-tall bar stool next to him. It seemed like the polite thing to do—and she wanted to stay on his good side for as long as possible.

“Room service,” he grunted.

It seemed this Lord wasn't a morning demon.

Selma decided to leave him alone until he wanted to begin that talk he'd mentioned earlier and dug in.

“I sensed no mate claim on you.”