Chapter 15: "Well, you asked for it."

The water is cold when I make her step into it. The bath pools have made no sense to me until now.

For the past fifty years, I have lived in a steady and regular motion, my hate the only thing fueling me and my need for revenge the only thing driving me to do anything at all.

I have stoked the flames and assembled my life in the chasm of ice my lands seem to love so much, but yet this little wolf, this delicate little wolf, makes me feel I might have overlooked one aspect of those plans.

When I asked her to lick my shoes I had expected the refusal. I wanted it even.

I would have killed her on the spot and I would have regretted it for a minute or two, after that I would have thrown the thought out of my mind and headed out to pick up the next werewolf princess to lead to her death.

Most of them are unwilling brides, and their parents, almost always reluctant to let them go. They know I kill their daughters, and they know they can do nothing about it. I should have killed this lit