And I remembered everything.

I fed on a human yesterday.

I jolted forward and winced as the heavy chain dragged over my still-sensitive skin. I realized that I wasn’t chained to the bed, but I didn’t move. I sat frozen, realizing something else. My dress was torn, the material pooling around my elbows. Scratches marred my upper arms. The woman—she had done that, because of what I had done to her.

“Oh God.” I leaped from the bed.

Dragging the chain behind me, I raced into the bathroom and dropped to my knees. Seconds later, everything that I’d eaten in the last day came back up. When I was done, my sides ached. I sat back, holding the top of the gown to my chest and supporting my weight with my other hand. Cold sweat dotted my forehead.

Oh God, I had hurt that woman. I’d taken from her what was not mine to take. I didn’t even know if she was okay or if I had taken too much. Feedings could kill humans.

I hadn’t known I was capable of feeding like a fae.

My fingers curled around the top of my dress as I stared blankly at the tile floor. I didn’t know who I was anymore. My breath caught in my chest. I’d forgotten how easy it was to fall under a fae’s control. It had happened to me before, when I was younger, but I’d truly forgotten how easily it could happen.

One look and I’d been under the prince’s control.

I’d been in complete control of myself, and a second later I hadn’t been, and I’d done something that went against everything I believed in.

That poor woman.

I knew I hadn’t willingly fed on her, but that didn’t lessen any of the guilt festering deep inside me, and that guilt quickly grew, because it wasn’t just a consequence of what I’d done to that woman. My stomach churned again.

I couldn’t remember the details of what had happened between the prince and me. After I . . . I’d fed, it was like I’d been detached from my body, gone someplace else. It was like being slipped a roofie, but I was somewhat lucky, because he had stopped. I remembered that, but it didn’t make me feel any real sense of relief.

An oily feeling settled over me, blanketing my entire body. I felt heavy, weighed down, and my skin, the bones and muscles, didn’t feel like my own. And they hadn’t been my own yesterday. I had no control. I knew that. My brain told me over and over that what happened yesterday with that poor woman wasn’t my fault. I’d been under a manipulation, a compulsion, and I hadn’t given Drake permission to touch me, to do anything with me. It wasn’t my fault, but I still wanted to flay layers of my skin off. I wanted to strip off the dress and burn it, along with the bed and this entire house.

I wanted to cut what little memories I had out of my head with a butter knife.

What he had done wasn’t remotely okay. I hadn’t been in the right frame of mind. He’d controlled me, forcing me to feed, and then took advantage of me being as high as a kite.

My stomach twisted again and I lurched forward, clutching the toilet. I heaved, and the only thing that came up this time was spittle and air, but it burned my throat and hurt my stomach. Once I thought I wouldn’t be sick again, I pushed away from the toilet.

I leaned back against the tub and dropped the end of the chain in my lap, closing my eyes and waiting for my heart to slow down. I focused on taking deep, even breaths and figuring out what my next steps would be. I had to have next steps. Something. I couldn’t sit on the bathroom floor.

I needed to shower.

I could do that.

I opened my eyes and forced myself off the floor. I closed the bathroom door, and was dismayed upon realizing the lock had been removed. I had no idea when that had happened. I cranked on the water, turning it up as hot as I could stand, and then I placed the chain on the sink. I stripped off the gown and picked up the chain without looking at my reflection.

I stepping under the hot spray of water, gasping as it hit my arms. The scratches stung as they got wet. I didn’t care if showering rusted the stupid band and chain. I stood under the hot water until my skin turned pink. Then I grabbed the bar of soap and lathered up not once but three times, and I still felt like I could do it again. Hot tears burned my eyes.

I can’t do this.

Oh God. I wasn’t sure I could deal with all of this for a moment longer, let alone until I figured a way out of here. I didn’t regret making the deal. I’d had to make sure Ren was safe, but my plan had been so incredibly clueless, foolish even. Gaining time to figure out an escape only put me further under the prince’s control, giving him opportunities I had never foreseen. And now what? I had no idea how I could work at gaining Drake’s trust when I wanted to gouge out his eyeballs the next time I saw him.

I have to do this.

There was no choice—not really. Giving up wouldn’t stop time, and even though I didn’t plan on honoring our bargain when our time was up, I had to get out of here. I had to pull it together, because the only other option was that I . . .

I removed myself from the equation.

I stared at the mosaic tile of the shower stall. Could I do it? The chain hung heavily from my neck. It would be easy to use the chain, far too easy, but even in my darkest moments after Shaun’s death, I’d never seriously considered ending my own life.

This situation was different though, because it wasn’t grief or depression guiding the thought. My very existence was a means to an end, and I couldn’t continue living like this, being forced to feed on humans. I also knew that eventually Drake wasn’t going to stop.

A sob shook my shoulders and I stepped back, pressing against the tiled wall. Pressing my hands over my face, I struggled to hold it together. My entire body trembled. I wanted out of here. I didn’t want to spend another second in this place, but what I wanted wasn’t going to happen.