"What in the actual fuck have you done? Take me back to Evermore. Now. I don't want to be here," I growl, attempting to yank my arm away from Cane, but to no avail. He has an iron grip on my elbow, and while he isn't hurting me, there is no amount of pulling I can do that will free me.

He says nothing as we stand in the middle of what appears to be a frozen wasteland. I look around and all I see is fucking snow. How did we go from being on a tropical island—even if it was a little gray and overcast for my taste—to what looks like the North Pole? I twist and look over my shoulder as much as possible, and I can vaguely see lights from what appears to be a village through the swirling flurries.

"Please stand still, coelhinha," Cane mutters. "I have to undo these wards on the house so we can get inside before you freeze to death, and all your squirming is not helping."

"I will move and 'squirm' as much as I want to if it will give me a chance to get away from you." I grumble. "And don't call me that; I'm not your little bunny."

He raises an eyebrow at me, one hand raised as though he's about to cast some kind of spell. "So you do speak Portuguese."

"No. I just asked someone who does what it meant. Around the same time I figured out that your brother also doesn't speak it. You slipped on that one, genius," I snap, my teeth beginning to chatter with the cold. My adrenaline is wearing off and I'm realizing just how godsdamn cold it is out here. I'm still wearing my sleeveless dress from the masquerade ball.

A smirk turns up the corner of Cane's mouth. "Clearly it wasn't too big of a slip because you took too long to notice, and here you are...on my front doorstep," he says, and I want to punch him right in the nose.

"Against my will, Cane!"

"Maybe," he says, dismissing me like my thoughts on being kidnapped are simply my opinion and not the truth. He shrugs off his blazer and drapes it over my shoulders.

"What are you doing?" I say, recoiling from his touch.

"I'm giving you my jacket, Delia. It's below zero out here, and you're wearing barely any clothes," he says, looking at me like I'm missing the most obvious question on the most basic accounting exam.

I want to refuse it, push it back at him, throw it in the snow...but I also don't want to die of hypothermia. So I slide my arms in the sleeves and, with a lack of manners that would make my mother die of embarrassment, say and do nothing that remotely resembles a thank you.

He just raises his hand again, then chants an incantation that sounds like Latin, but I can't be sure.

What appears before me makes me forget for half a second that I'm freezing cold and kidnapped by my boyfriend's (ex-boyfriend's? I don't even know) asshole brother. If this house is where Cane lives, I have to wonder why in the hell he picked the fucking Arctic Circle to build it. And for Zeus's sake, it's not even a house.

It's the most beautiful mansion I've ever seen. It's like, a mountain chalet on steroids. White stone, three chimneys, so many huge open windows that I can't begin to count them, and it even has those little round rooms on either end. I have no idea what they're called, but when a house has them, you just know it's a rich as hell person that lives there.

"Are you coming?" Cane asks, from the now open doorway while staring at my bare feet.

That part that wants to rebel is quickly shut down by the pinpricks of ice biting into my toes. Self-preservation forces me to run inside. As angry as I am, the tease of warmth I feel is too tempting.

It takes me a moment to stop shivering enough to notice the modern white decor and the exposed oak beams across the vaulted ceiling. If Evermore Manor was a gothic dream, this is the complete opposite. Everything is bright and welcoming. The house smells like coffee and warm cinnamon rolls. It is the last place I would expect to find a vampire.

"Where are we?" I ask.

"My home."

His answer jerks me out of my awe and ignites the bomb that was already ticking within me. He actually did bring me to his house. As if I would ever want to share his space with him.

"I didn't ask to come here," I snap.

Cane kicks his dress shoes off by the door and unbuttons the cuffs of his shirt. As if I'm not standing here fuming, he walks past me while rolling his sleeves. My wet feet slap against the wood floor as I follow him into the kitchen. Sure enough, a steaming batch of cinnamon rolls and two mugs of coffee sit on the granite island in the center.

"Well, you are here, so drink up and get warm," he says, sliding a drink toward me.

I glare at the cup and the coffee inside, which unfortunately looks exactly as I like it...with more cream than coffee, and then eye the cinnamon rolls with a narrowed gaze.

"Come on, Cordelia. Just eat. I know you're pissed off at me, but you need strength. With everything that's happened in the last few hours..." He trails off and my skin heats.

"Exactly, everything that happened with me and Elias. You need to take me back so we can work this all out. There has to be something I'm missing...a good reason he did what he did."

Cane takes a sip from his mug, watching me over the rim. He is the picture of calm as he says, "A good reason that he lied to you? A good reason he never told you about the primal bond? Or maybe he has a great reason why he never told you just how powerful you truly are? What excuses could he give to make you forgive him?"

My heart sinks with every word Cane speaks. While I hate him, I know that he is in part speaking the truth. Elias did lie to me. But that doesn't mean I shouldn't give him the chance to explain. "It doesn't matter what you say, Cane. He should have the chance to tell me why he did what he did, and you took that away from him!"

The more I yell at him, the more my head spins, and I really am hungry.

"Or I stopped him from hurting you more. Either way, I'm not taking you back to him, so eat." He pushes the plate closer to me.

My non-ironclad willpower is easily shattered, and I tear off a cinnamon roll, stuffing it into my mouth and stifling a moan when it practically melts on my tongue.

"Fuck, that is good," I mutter around a mouthful of pastry before taking a sip of coffee, which is equally delicious.

"I have two trusted beings on staff. They will care for all your needs, no questions asked. For today, I'll find you something to wear out of my closet while you bathe. Ruth will order you more clothes from town and they should be here by tomorrow."

Tomorrow? No! "I'm not staying. You can bloop me home just like you blooped me here."

"What? What do you not get about what I'm saying to you? I'm not blooping you home. Elias will look for you there. You need some time to let this all sink in. Besides, teleporting doesn't work in the human realm."

My anger simmers in my chest and I stuff another cinnamon roll in my mouth. After I swallow, I say, "I want Elias to look for me. You stole me from him, from my whole life, Cane! What the fuck are you doing?"

He gives a humorless laugh as he pushes away from the island and dumps the rest of his coffee in the sink. "Yeah, that whole life he built with you where he left out the important stuff like being soul bonded. Did he ever ask you how you felt about being his queen in the vampire court? Or—"

"Stop!" I slam my palms over my ears and then throw my hands in the air. "I don't want to hear anymore!"

"You need to hear it," Cane says, walking past me toward the stairs. "But it's obvious you aren't ready yet. The guest bedroom is upstairs. First door on the left. There's a full bath inside, and everything you'll need for a shower is there. I'll have Ruth leave some pajamas for you on the bed."

"Don't bother," I growl. "I'll just sleep in my dress." I know I'm being ridiculous, but I don't want him showing me any kindness; it's obvious it's just for show.

He shakes his head. "There will be clothes for you on your bed. Wear them or not. I don't care. If you need anything, my bedroom is the one at the end of the hall. You know where to find me."

I snort as he disappears up the stairs. "As fucking if."

He spins around and stalks across the short distance separating us. He leans in until his nose is almost touching mine, and that is when I realize how much he isn't like Elias.

Where gold flecks dotted Elias's eyes with light, Cane's brown gaze borders on black. For a split second, I almost cave. I almost say I'm sorry for being a bitch, just because that's who I am, but then my gaze drifts to his bared arms and I see the tattoos inked into his skin. He purposely hid them from me, to deceive me, and the gods only know how many times he succeeded.

"I am not your enemy, Cordelia," he says through gritted teeth.

I don't back down from him, but I do increase the space between us. "Why should I believe anything you say to me? You keep throwing Elias under the bus about lying? You aren't any better than him. In fact, you're far worse. I went, what, weeks or months calling you by his name? How many times did you slide into his place and touch me when I thought it was him?"

Cane steps back and cocks a brow. "What does it matter? You welcomed the advances. And weren't you always satisfied?"

"You're an asshole, Cane Dagon."

One side of his mouth tips up and his arms cross over his broad chest. "You appear to have a type, Cordelia Ashling."

"Fuck you," I say spinning on my heels and leaving him in the kitchen.

He calls after me, saying, "Anytime. Don't forget—it's the door at the end of the hall."

Cane won't get a chance to put his hands on me. As soon as I get some sleep, I'm finding a way out of here. I refuse to be the Dagon brothers' plaything anymore.