Instead, I wrapped myself in some of the furs he’d thought to bring and leaned on a bedroll with a saddlebag as a cushion. I had the iron knife. All I had to do was wait until he was asleep and then shove it in some soft place. His gut maybe or in an eye, his throat even. It wouldn’t be hard. The blade was sharp enough. I needed the courage to do it and not worry about the consequences if I failed.

“You must hate me so very much,” he said, noticing my deep frown.

I would’ve laughed in any other circumstance. “As if anyone likes the person who takes them against their will to do what—what will I be? A thrall for you? Shall I call you master?”

“You’re not going to be a thrall,” he said. “And my name is Soren.”

“What then? A concubine?” Gods, the mere thought of that had me shiver in distaste. The white hair, the blue lips, the blue-gray tinge to his skin was weird enough to be around, but to be forced to lie with that …

“I’m quite capable of getting sex from willing participants,” he said dryly, “so, no.”

“Then what?” I spat out. “What’s the point of you taking me? What will I do when I’m there?”

He shrugged. “I hadn’t actually planned that out entirely. I know you need to be there, with me. The rest will come.”

“The Permafrost will be your new home. My home will be your home.”

“And how do you know that?” I asked sharply. “Can you tell the future?”

He wasn’t making it easy not to stab him. Did he really think it was that simple—that easy? That I’d forget my home, my people, my species, and grow to love the Permafrost and his freezing pile of stones like it was my own? I knew what went on with humans in the Permafrost, and it was not something I’d call pleasant. I’d even seen two humans who managed to escape from the place where they’d been held, telling stories of monsters who eat uncooked flesh of any creature they desired, including themselves, of the brutality, the fights for food, the jobs they were forced to do because goblins themselves couldn’t do them. If he thought I would be happy there, his brain was a crock of shit.

“You don’t have to believe me now,” Soren said, obviously reading my facial expression, “but you will sooner or later. I know that.”