Kingdom of the Cursed

by Kerri Maniscalco

  If I was being honest, the conflicted feelings had started well before we came to this world. When he’d been attacked by Envy and bled out before me, something had shifted then.

  And prior to that, when I’d been under Lust’s spell, I’d wanted Wrath desperately. For a moment that night, he seemed to want to close the distance between us, too.

  I snapped myself into the present. “Your acceptance of the betrothal creates desire?”

  “Consummation, along with a traditional ceremony, complete the marriage bond.” He searched my face, probably seeing if I was about to hit him now. I wanted to. Tremendously. “You look…”

  “Angry?” I raised my brows and canted my head. He was wise enough to know that the silence that followed was twice as dangerous as raising a hand.

  “Create was a poor word choice. It encourages the completion of the bond. At some level, you have to already possess those feelings, or else there’d be nothing for the bond to encourage.”

  “Has the realm ever been encouraging me, or is it only our bond?”

  “Both.”

  “And your summoning Mark does what, exactly?”

  “Marking you subdues the marriage urges because it’s its own unbreakable link between us. If you were to think of it in terms of a body of water, it would be similar to a river that breaks into two smaller streams. Each diluting the other to an extent, until they rejoin.”

  Which was why he’d brushed his knuckles across the Mark whenever we kissed; he’d been trying to dilute my urges. He also did that while I was under Lust’s influence at the bonfire. Which meant he’d been tamping it down for a while. And hadn’t bothered to tell me.

  I don’t know why it stung so badly, but it did.

  “What happens if I refuse to accept the marriage? Will I still want you in my bed?”

  “The urges will remain, but they won’t ever force your hand, Emilia. That’s not the way the bond works. You will always have a choice. Just as you would with any other partner.”

  “I always have a choice,” I scoffed. “Except if I want to marry the devil.”

  Wrath stiffened. The words were out of my mouth before I’d given much thought to them. Or how they might impact the prince. In order for him to experience those urges, too, he must possess some level of feelings for me.

  And that was… it was too complicated to sort through.

  I knew it was unfair to blame him, especially since I was the one who’d originally trapped him in a betrothal, but I couldn’t help but cling to my fury. All of my plans were going up in flames. If I didn’t get to House Pride, I might never discover what really happened to my twin. The only reason I’d even signed that contract was to place myself in the viper’s nest and stop any more witches from being murdered.

  Now I was in this realm and stuck in a situation that wouldn’t further my mission. I didn’t come here to find love, or to become Princess of House Wrath. I came for vengeance. I came to be Queen. I was here to destroy the demon who’d killed Vittoria and save my family and island from further danger from invading demons. And Wrath was complicating my entire world.

  “Why the secrecy?” I demanded. “If you didn’t want me to sign Pride’s contract you could have told me about this back in the cave that night. Why not ask me to align myself with your House? It makes no sense that you’d hide this from me.”

  “Fiancée or not, you are free to join any House of Sin you wish. I won’t ever stand in your way. And I did not tell you because I didn’t want you to come here.”

  “Why don’t you want me here?” He pressed his lips together. I wasn’t about to let him get away with that non-response answer again. “Tell me. Tell me this has something to do with the curse and not with another person you love. I need to understand why you keep some secrets and give up others.”

  “I cannot. Be content with the answers you’ve gotten.”

  I noticed his word choice. Cannot and will not were vastly different. I looked him over, but his expression gave nothing away. I knew he’d chosen those words with care.

  “Is this why I can’t travel between the demon courts without an invitation? Because I am technically bound to your House?”

  He nodded. “You would still need an escort through the realm since it’s dangerous to travel alone, and we’d need to have a delegation from each House meet at the border of our territories, but yes. As my intended you are seen as the future co-ruler of House Wrath. Therefore, it would be an act of aggression if you were to simply show up at another court without warning or permission.”

  “What of the contract I signed with House Pride?”

  “If we complete our marriage, it becomes void.”

  “And if we don’t? What about the witch murders? Are they still happening?”

  “No. They are not.”

  “How is that possible? Your entire mission revolved around finding the devil a bride. Unless it was never truly about that…”

  Wrath looked as if he wanted to say more but either couldn’t or wouldn’t. His growing silence solidified my earlier worry about the murders having nothing to do with the devil needing a bride to break his curse. Which meant the witches were killed for some reason I’d yet to uncover. Annoyance warred with anger as I glared at the prince of secrets.

  “If you choose to do nothing,” he finally said, breaking the silence, “then it will eventually be sent to the Temple of Fate. A council of three will then convene on the matter. That path is ill-advised, but is your choice to make nonetheless.”

  “Wonderful. The council will what? Decide then if I marry you or someone else?”

  “They will decide the fate of us all.”

  I regretted not accepting the drink he’d offered earlier. I rolled my head, trying to ease the mounting tension. There were way too many emotions fighting for dominance right now. Wrath walked over to where I stood and put the glass in my hand, then began circling the room.

  “How did you know I wanted the drink? Can you sense my emotions that clearly, or is it an added bonus from our betrothal bond? Or maybe the summoning Mark. It’s hard to keep all of your tricks straight.”

  “Your gaze darted to the glass, Emilia. I simply read your body language.”

  I watched him pace, my mind spinning with each of his revolutions around the room. His actions were all starting to make sense. He hadn’t let me die from the elements because I was his future bride. It was also why he’d stayed with me in the Sin Corridor, though Anir said he shouldn’t have. Another memory came back to me. In Palermo, Anir had mentioned completing the marriage bond and securing his House, something about gaining full power. When he’d come to collect me in the cave, I’d noticed a shift in his power. It had felt infinite. Stronger.

  Wrath may have some feelings or physical attraction for me, but, given his nature, I wondered if he’d acted partly out of self-preservation.

  “Do your subjects know?”

  “Yes. The whole realm is aware.”

  Which was why he’d made such a public example of Lord Makaden. The noble hadn’t simply disobeyed a royal command; he’d challenged Wrath and insulted his soon-to-be wife. The same was true for the officer he’d brought the mountain down on; he’d threatened to kill the princess of House Wrath. If either of them harmed me, it would in turn diminish Wrath’s power to some degree. I knew precisely how much princes of Hell coveted power.

  Enough to bind themselves to someone they may enjoy between their sheets on occasion, but would never truly love. For eternity.

  Well suited enough.

  The choice of words grated on me. He also hadn’t denied there was someone else in his life. Someone he’d chosen before I destroyed his world.

  “I invited you to bed tonight.” My voice was low, but not meek. Wrath stopped pacing and his heavy gaze clashed with mine. My attention roved over his face. “Would you have told me any of this before we slept together?”

  “No matter how tempting, I would not have consummated our marria
ge tonight. There are plenty of ways to give and receive pleasure that would not jeopardize your free will.”

  “Is that the truth? Or just what you think I wish to hear?”

  He stared at me, his jaw tightening. The temperature around us chilled a few degrees. I half-expected the castle’s foundation to shake. “What kind of monster do you believe me to be?”

  I had no good answer. And until I did… I drew in a deep breath, thinking over my options. Wrath had mentioned a few of his brothers were interested in hosting me at their Houses. Perhaps it was time for a visit.

  “I want you to escort me to House Envy in the morning. Will you send a note letting him know I accept his invitation?”

  Wrath didn’t react for a long moment; he looked like he wasn’t sure if he’d heard me correctly. He stared so hard I started to worry he could see through flesh and bone straight into my soul. I kept my expression bland and forced thoughts of tranquility: collecting shells by the sea, laughing with my sister and Claudia, drinking wine and talking about simple things.

  Anything to keep my emotions from betraying me.

  He finally nodded. He wasn’t pleased, that much was obvious from the way he’d tensed up at the request, but he also wasn’t trying to stop or imprison me.

  I was not his cosseted princess. Thus far, my choices remained my own.

  “You’re certain that’s what you want? Even after what Envy did?”

  “Yes.” I thought about my next request. “I also need a mending kit.”

  “You don’t need to sew your own clothing anymore, Emilia. A seamstress can do that.”

  “All the same, I’d like one for emergencies.”

  “Very well. I’ll have one sent to your room and let my brother know tonight. Will that be all?”

  “For now.”

  “Come.” He offered his hand, his voice and expression both genial enough to make me wary as I stepped closer. I ignored the little spark that passed between us when his fingers closed around mine. If he felt it, too, he didn’t let on. “I’ll take you to your chamber to pack. We’ll leave for House Envy at first light.”

  FOURTEEN

  Wrath made one small, seemingly innocuous request of his own before leaving me to pack a trunk for my visit. He’d asked to have a gown sent in the morning, one in which it was appropriate to be received by a prince of Hell. Regardless of any ulterior motives, of which I was certain he had many, I’d decided there was little harm in granting his wish and quickly agreed.

  I told myself my swift acceptance had nothing to do with the fact my betrothed was in my private suite, standing shirtless near my bed, looking like he was carved from the very essence of temptation itself. He kept a careful distance, almost painfully so, but there wasn’t anything he could do to dampen my awareness of him. The space between us seemed to vibrate with both tension and anticipation. I wasn’t sure if it was only coming from me, or if he felt it, too. He’d retreated back to the enigmatic prince who was cordial, but otherwise difficult to read.

  I was not nearly as calm. My emotions were still aflutter after learning the truth, and I had every right to tuck myself safely in denial until I sorted through them. Far away from the prince.

  The twinkle of mirth finally broke into his cool features as I ushered him out of my rooms and practically shut the door on his heels. I leaned my head against the wall and exhaled. An hour earlier I’d felt much differently. I couldn’t get him into my bed fast enough.

  I slammed the memory of our romantic encounter outside his rooms from my mind. Recalling the pleasant sensation of his hands stroking and exploring would do nothing to clear my head.

  “What a nightmare.”

  I rushed into my bathing chamber to splash water on my face and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, immediately understanding his amused reaction. My dark eyes were wide and wild, my hair unruly from our earlier dip into trouble, and my skin was flushed as if some torturous fever had overtaken me. I was an untamed, frenzied mess on the inside and it was shining through to the outside. Certainly not the ideal reaction to matrimony to boost any male ego or confidence. Though it wasn’t as if Wrath lacked in either of those areas.

  My gaze snagged on my amulet, briefly wrenching me from thoughts of husbands and wives and unbreakable magical bonds. Given Envy’s reaction to the Horn of Hades last time, I wanted the necklace far away from him. I refused to take any careless chances by parading it under his nose while staying in his royal House.

  I took it off and placed it at the bottom of my vanity drawer. I’d let Wrath know where to find it in the morning. As I closed the drawer, I noticed something that hadn’t been present earlier: a silver hand mirror and matching brush and comb were placed atop the table.

  They appeared sometime after I’d cleaned up from Lord Makaden’s blood and now. I admired the detailed etching, marveling at the craftsmanship. Another beautiful—and thoughtful—gift from my future husband. I sighed. If Wrath started wooing me, I wasn’t sure I’d recall all the reasons we weren’t a proper match. Of which there were many.

  First, he was a prince of Hell, a mortal enemy to witches. Next, he was secretive and did not trust me any more than I trusted him with full disclosure. He also might feel lust around me, but that did not equal love. I wanted a true partner, an equal and confidant. Wrath would always hold his proverbial cards close, and I wasn’t sure he’d ever deal me in. Given the tenuous nature of our current relationship, I might never fully include him in my plans, either.

  I removed the animal skulls and flower clips from around the crown of my head, then ran the comb through my loose curls, trying desperately to slow my pulse. It was no use.

  I set the comb down and returned to my bedchamber, pacing so quickly around the room I almost worked up a sweat, too wound up to attempt sleep. As appealing as shoving my feelings aside was, I needed to sort through some of the tangle before I left for Envy’s House.

  Wrath was a handsome, unwed prince, and he was no doubt highly sought after by all eligible ladies of the nobility. He was a bit aloof at times, and arrogant, but he was also charming and flirtatious when he wished to be. He’d once even called himself “His Royal Highness of Undeniable Desire.” And, goddess curse him, I could see how that was true. If he set his attention on someone, I doubted they would resist his romantic pursuit for long.

  He approached everything strategically and it would only be a matter of time before the object of his desire happily surrendered to his careful seduction. He’d certainly been a generous lover in the Crescent Shallows, focusing on my needs as if that gave him ultimate pleasure to do so. In fact, I imagined he had his pick of all-too-willing bed partners before I entered his world. Some vying for his throne and power, others solely interested in his body.

  I abruptly stopped pacing as another thought occurred to me, one that pricked like the little spikes on a crab shell when we served those at our trattoria. I’d thought of it earlier, and now it seemed to taunt me with larger implications.

  Wrath hadn’t professed love or affection, only that we were well suited enough. While it wasn’t the romantic moment of my dreams, there was truth in his statement.

  I knew him enough to know he would never force me into anything or interfere with my free will, and at least I wouldn’t be tied to the devil. But I couldn’t stop myself from wondering if there was someone else he’d prefer to wed. Before I’d accidentally summoned him and betrothed us, it was possible there had been someone in his bed and his heart.

  Someone he might be thinking of now. When we first met, he’d made it abundantly clear how much he hated witches. Even if his feelings for me were thawing, it might not ever be enough for him to truly love me. Would he keep a mistress if we completed our marriage bond?

  I didn’t like the pinch of discomfort that came with those thoughts.

  No matter how hard I tried to quiet my brain, I couldn’t stop thinking of our passionate encounter in the lagoon and then outside his bedchamber. His hands
on my body, my back pressed against the wall, his tongue claiming mine… in those moments he felt right.

  But that didn’t mean he was. For a multitude of reasons. Passion and lust couldn’t erase the lack of trust between us or the secrets we both kept. A good relationship was built on a solid foundation of honesty, and I didn’t even know his true name.

  Aside from the real possibility of Wrath never fully allowing himself to love me, I was unsure if I could ever fully allow myself to love him. Bed him, certainly. Marry, perhaps. But to let go of everything else and accept him as he was, with all of his secrets? I wasn’t as sure.

  “Goddess help me.” This was disastrous.

  I’d been willing to have a marriage of convenience with Pride. But only because it granted me access to his House and a better understanding of how his wife’s murder might tie in with Vittoria’s. Binding myself to Wrath… I was unsure how that would assist in my mission.

  If anything, all I came up with were more complications.

  I tossed myself across the bed and summoned Source. My magic responded almost instantly, happy to be used while I was otherwise distracted. I created a garden’s worth of rose-gold burning flowers and floated them up to the ceiling, my mind returning to the two princes currently occupying the majority of my thoughts.

  I didn’t know the first thing about Pride, other than the fact he was the devil. Wrath I was starting to know a little better, and being near him sometimes made the ache in my chest lessen. He didn’t erase memories of my twin—no one could ever do that—but when he was around, I found a perverse sense of peace arguing with him.

  I released the hold on my magic, the flowers of flame slowly burning out. I watched as the petals became blackened embers that floated to the floor, extinguishing before they touched the carpet. I sighed, too distraught to be thrilled over my most impressive use of magic yet. It wasn’t the marriage bond that bothered me; it was the realization that my family hadn’t managed to drag me from the depths of my grief, but the demon prince had.