Zephyr stared at where Cecily was held in the chair by one of the chains that connected to her wrists.

He'd watched them drag her in with the choking leash that was used to catch stray dogs. And she didn't even look scared. In fact, he'd felt a chill go down his spine when her piercing black eyes set on him. Involuntarily, sweat was starting to pool at the back of his neck.

But she saw it, the twitch in his posture when she didn't let her gaze away from him. Her nostrils flared as she took in his scent and clothing. He saw it all. He knew she wanted him to see it all.

"Cecily, correct?" Zephyr had asked.

She gave a breath of an answer.

"Good. I'm sorry about the cruel treatment, truly I am. I didn't instruct them to do that."

His eyes stayed on the leash resting tightly on her throat. He couldn't decided if he'd be more comfortable with it off or on.

Instead of mentioning it, he continued. "My name's Zephyr Fa-Lin."

"The prince," she breathed.

He nodded. "I'm not sure if you're aware of this, but the next succession games are coming up."

He saw the gears click in her head. He didn't suspect the succession games were often spoken of in the prison.

"My father, the king, has made many enemies during his reign and, as I'm sure you know, in order for me to become King I need to kill them off. When I reign, there aren't supposed to be any lingering enemies in the Royal court."

He rubbed his hands together, playing with his nails while trying to hold her gaze. But he was utterly terrified.

Seeing her profile was one thing, but the presence she brought was bone chilling. She didn't look like she wanted to kill him, not at all. There wasn't a hint of murder in her stunning obsidian eyes.

But he felt her gaze. He felt her eyes taking themselves over every inch of his body. She was learning him. He was sure she knew more about him than he himself did.

And Cecily was making a show of it. Making sure he knew that she saw him for what she was. A blue blooded noble, in her eyes. Prey.

This beautiful girl, stunningly gorgeous, was called the hunter. But Zephyr felt that she was the most beastly and animalistic human he'd ever met.

She stopped, finally meeting his gaze.

"What did you drag me in here for?" She replied, keeping her smooth voice still.

When he didn't reply immediately, her gaze turned to a glare.

"Right, of course." Zephyr cursed himself for admiring her surprisingly silky voice. "I want you on my team."

She raised an eyebrow, maybe the first human expression she'd given away.

"Me?"

He nodded, resting his head on his crossed fingers, waiting for a reply.

"And you've read my profile?"

"Eh, bits and pieces. You're here off recommendation of my friend." The Prince's head dipped, motioning in the direction of a soldier standing behind him and to the right.

The man jumped when she examined him.

Zephyr sighed, glad that her gaze was off him for a minute. That is, until it returned.

"Why me?"

He saw the flash of a startled look she gave when his lips pressed into a small grin. Zephyr doubted many people were too happy to see her. Especially in the prison.

"You're good at what you do. Hunting, I mean. The games require that I choose someone from my generation. From my generation, you're the first person I'd like watching my back. Look." He pulled a tablet from his lap and showed it to her.

She watched the video of her tracking down the man who dared to touch her axe. She watched herself slaughter them.

"I want you," he continued, "because you're amazing. I've been on Royal hunts with professionals and none of them are quite like you. You managed to track and kill them by yourself. Without the help of any mechanics."

He saw a quick glance in her midnight eyes, a glance to her hands. She, however, caught herself and stopped before they made any long lasting contact.

And he hated it, not knowing what she was thinking. Raised as a prince in a deadly court, reading people was an essential skill. But her expressions were trained and hardened. She would never give away anything she didn't want.

"I only hunted the one man," she replied, her voice now quiet. "The rest challenged me and paid the price."

More talking, Zeph thought. We're getting somewhere at least.

"Of course, I have an offer for you," he continued. "To start with, money. Of course, you'd have freedom if you did well during the hunt. Under watch, but freedom."

He watched her carefully, trying to read her features, slightly tanned by the artificial sun of the prison. He wished, really wished he could know what was going on in that head of hers.

"I'll need weapons," she said, voice a little stronger.

The young prince couldn't hold back his smile. "You'll have access to all the palaces weapons."

Her autumn hair bobbed.

She watched her lap, probably playing with something between her fingers, before looking back at him. "If you can guarantee money and freedom and provide me with the weapons I need, I'd be happy to leave this cesspool of a prison."

Not a smile, but a crack in the shell. A small twitch on her full lips.

---

Cecily let him see it, the little smirk she had. And she knew it scared him, even if he didn't realize it.

The prince gave her a simple nod, which apparently wasn't for her.

The guards behind her tugged at the animal leash that was tied to her.

"Be gentle," the prince said. "Don't hurt her. Get her collar on and take that damn leash off her."

Collar, she thought. Always a little bit they forget to add.

Still, she didn't complain. Freedom was at her fingers. As free as a chained dog could be.

Still, she didn't growl at the guards when they dragged her out of the main room and into a spectate one. She didn't complain when the foreign guard, the easterner who kept a step away from the prince and a hand on his sword, approached her with what she knew was a shock collar and started to set it around her neck.

"Let me make something clear to you," he said, his voice a breath away from her ear. "If you so much as take a step in the wrong direction either the prince or myself will stun you. If you wander too far, I will use the gps in the collar to track you. If you try to take the collar off-"

"You will what?" She hit back, feeling a little sarcastic.

He smirked. "I don't have to do anything. The palace will alter us of your where about while the collar works to keep you paralyzed. Or unconscious. I'm fine with either."

Finishing the sentence, his hand had no need to continue resting on his sword. She watched them go lower.

And let out an animalistic growl while snapping her teeth.

"Watch it," he bit back, suddenly a see feet away. "I'm not going to do anything to hurt you. Give me your hands. I'll take off the chains."

Still glaring, she did just that. Slowly, his foreign green eyes staying on hers, he took hold of her hands.

There was a click.

And her hands were free.

There was an eerie and painful silence in the room. A tension so thick she could smell it.

They were waiting, she realized. Waiting for me to attack.

The foreigner, seemingly comfortable that she wasn't lunging or growling or snapping, he gave a nod to the other guards.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the cord holding her throat loosened until it was a ways from her neck. And then it was lifted a over her head with the same lazy speed.

And then, the hunter was free.