Stealing Cinderella by A Zavarelli 

Every royal has their dirty little secret. His was… me.

It should have been simple. Go to the ball, meet the prince, and secure his patronage for my favourite charity. But beneath the mask, the brooding beast of a man was not at all who I expected. He was dark and intense and eerily quiet.
When I left, I could still feel the ghost of his touch branded into my skin. He haunted my dreams, but I never expected to see him again.

Then he came for me. And he took me. And I learned that his darkness was a void I never could have conceived. He’s the crown prince of Norway. And, now, I’m his captive.