" What did you think the answer would be, Elisabeth? I toy with you because I can. Because it gives me great pleasure. Because I was bored."
An inarticulate scream of rage strangled me. I wanted to destroy something, to spend my anger against the unfairness of everything. I wanted nothing more than to grapple with the Goblin King, to tear him limb to limb, a Maenad against Orpheus. I tightened my hands into fists.
"Yes," he murmured. "Go ahead. Hit me. Strike me." The invitation was not just in his words, but his voice. He advanced. "Use your rage against me."
We stared at each other, scarcely half a breath between us. This close, I could see that his gray eye was flecked with silver and blue, his green one ringed with amber and gold. Those eyes mocked me, inviting and inciting me into a passion. If I were a smoldering ember, he was the poker, stirring me into flames.
I retreated. I was afraid. Afraid to touch him for fear of starting a fire within me.
"What," I asked tightly, "do you want from me, mein Herr?"
"I already told you what I want," he said. "You, entire."
We did not relinquish each other's gaze. Let go, his eyes seemed to say. But I couldn't; if I surrendered to my fury, I wasn't certain what else I would give up.
"Why?" My voice was hoarse.
"Why what, Elisabeth?"
"Why me?" My words were barely audible, but the Goblin King heard them. He had always heard me.
"Why you?" Those sharp, pointed teeth glistened. "Who else but you?" Even his words were sharp, each slicing through me like a knife. "You, who have always been my playmate? "

― S. Jae-Jones , Wintersong (Wintersong, #1)