He stroked my cheek, his fingernail scoring a painful incision through my skin. I gritted my teeth to keep from wincing. “You never filled me up before, so I can’t imagine you accomplishing it now.”

“That’s rather cheap, Carrie. I thought you knew better.” He turned away from me to face Nathan. “I sent Father a rather interesting package last night. He should be receiving it any moment now.”

Nathan shrugged. “Is this information in any way relevant to our current situation?”

“As a matter of fact, it is.” Cyrus looped his arm around my waist and pulled me forward. “Since he missed his annual feeding and the victim intended for him is deceased, I thought it only fitting to send him a little takeout. Carrie’s heart.”

Nathan’s calm facade wavered. “Why?”

“An eye for an eye.” Cyrus pushed me aside. “And, to borrow another phrase, it will kill two birds with one stone. Carrie disobeyed me, and she had to be punished. Your life cost me Elsbeth, and I deserve something in return. If you thought losing your precious human boy was bad, wait until you feel the blood tie wither and go cold. Wait until you experience her death, with no way to prevent it. But I won’t kill you, Nathan. You’ll feel her death every day of your life, as I’ve lived with the pain of losing Elsbeth.”

Disbelief froze me in place. I was going to die. Even if we killed Cyrus right now, the Soul Eater would devour my heart. I was dead already.

I opened my mouth to speak, but I couldn’t say anything.

Cyrus patted my head in a mocking gesture of comfort. “Of course, I used a personal courier. I could call him back at any time, if you wished to make an arrangement.”

A flashback of the night I’d exchanged my freedom for Nathan’s life sickened me. “Let me guess. If I stay with you, you’ll give me back my heart and let Nathan go?”

Clapping his hands, just like his father, Cyrus laughed. “No. Nolen is going to die, one way or another. But I’m giving you the choice to live. Stay here with me, become mine again, and I’ll call off my father’s feeding.”

Without thinking, I lifted my hand, aimed for his one good eye and stabbed my finger hard into the socket.

He screamed in rage and lurched away from me. Blood trickled from beneath his hand as he covered the side of his face.

“I’m not going to be your prisoner again. I’d rather die,” I snarled. And I meant it.

No matter what I’d thought he felt for me, I had only been to him what everyone else in his life was. A piece of property, a pawn. I hadn’t played according to his rules. I’d broken down the order he cherished, and in doing so, I’d destroyed his feelings for me.

Maybe I had loved him, but I could live without love if it compromised my free will.