Kingdom of the Cursed

Home > Young Adult > Kingdom of the Cursed > Page 21
Kingdom of the Cursed Page 21

by Kerri Maniscalco


  A smile spread across the prince’s face, though there was no hint of mirth to be found in it. The look confirmed that remaining around for this training was a terrible idea. I took a step back and something dangerous sparked in Wrath’s eyes.

  “He doesn’t possess the skills needed for this lesson.”

  “Oh, well, I have a prior engagement. We’ll have to reschedule.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, it is.”

  “Do you recall the bargain we struck in my bedchamber?”

  I went to nod when an immense wave of lethargy washed over me, and I suddenly found my head too heavy to move. Wrath’s intense focus homed in on my emotional and physical shift. There was no concern present in his expression, only a hard edge that should have worried me.

  And it would have, if I wasn’t in such a horrid state of lassitude.

  I couldn’t bring myself to care, or stand, apparently. My legs folded of their own volition and I sank to the ground, crashing in a heap of tangled limbs. My cheek pressed into the thick mat, the fibers scratching and uncomfortable. Still, I didn’t so much as roll over to get comfortable. I didn’t even blink. To my horror, a dribble of saliva worked its way out of the corner of my mouth. I couldn’t care less.

  In fact, I found I really didn’t much care for anything. Not even the gleam of victory flashing in Wrath’s eyes as he towered over me.

  He strolled around my prone form. “Look at me, Emilia.”

  I wanted to, almost more than anything, but energy was too hard to come by. I had nothing left in my reserves to spare. My eyelids drifted shut instead. Despite my undignified position, laying sprawled on the floor, drooling, I couldn’t muster the resolve to—

  The slothful feeling snapped, as if it had never been. Anger, all-consuming and red-hot, brought me to my feet a breath later. Rage had my body trembling. Or perhaps it was wrath.

  I flung myself at the demon. “I’m going to kill you!”

  “Kill? I’m sure you mean kiss.”

  Wrath chuckled at my sudden change in temper, then, before I could touch him, the atmosphere once again abruptly shifted. Suddenly, I was no longer trying to get my hands around his throat; I was clawing him closer, wrapping my legs and arms around his body. I wanted him.

  Goddess curse me. The need to bed him was overwhelming, the ache unbearable.

  I thought I knew desire before in the Crescent Shallows. Nothing came close to this. I could think of nothing else except his hands on me. My hands on him.

  In the back of my mind I knew something was terribly wrong. This was exactly what Lust had done to me that night on the beach, but I was unable to focus on anything but my desire.

  Our mutual fury would have a perfect outlet in passion, granting us both release as we fought to undress, to out-caress, to make the other come undone. I dragged Wrath’s face close to mine, his eyes flaring with that same desire as I slowly took his bottom lip between my teeth.

  “Kiss me.” I left his mouth only to run my tongue and teeth over the side of his neck, tasting and suckling his skin as I brought my lips close to his ear. “I need you.”

  “Want, but never need, my lady.” He did not return my pursuit, but his grin was positively sinful as he stepped away from my touch. “In the Sin Corridor, you were tested for envy. I’m curious what got you so incensed. Do you recall what illusion spurred that on?”

  My desire evaporated. An image of Wrath engaged in bedding a woman who wasn’t me resurfaced. Once again I saw her legs wrapped around his body, his hips rolling forward with each deep thrust inside her. Instead of her moans, I could now hear his.

  A possessive, dark emotion bubbled inside me. I was so jealous of them, I wanted to kill. My blood turned as cold as my tone. “Yes.”

  “Tell me what you saw.”

  “You and another woman. In bed.”

  There was a moment of silence. As if he hadn’t expected that to be the reason. “And how did that make you feel?”

  I exhaled, the sound more akin to a growl. “Murderous.”

  Wrath slowly began circling me again, his voice quiet, but taunting. “Was that before or after you saw the pleasure she’d given me? The pure ecstasy I felt buried inside her warmth.”

  A tear slid down my cheek. I was not sad or even furious. I was now fully consumed by jealousy. Not of the other woman, but of the night of intimacy they’d shared. I wanted that. Wanted Wrath with an intensity that razed all reason from my mind. And that level of envy was almost as overwhelming as the night I first met the prince who ruled over that sin.

  Envy had used his influence on me and I’d never forget the iciness of—

  Understanding descended in a burst of anger, breaking the spell. “You monstrous beast. You’re using your powers on me!”

  “And how easily you succumbed to them.” Wrath’s fury rose to meet mine. “Do you want my brothers to manipulate you? Maybe you wish to become an object for their amusement. Perhaps you will start by being mine. Remove your clothing and dance for my pleasure.”

  “You’re a pig.”

  “I am much worse than that. But a bargain is a bargain.”

  “I did not consent to this bullshit.”

  “Lie. You asked me to arm you. Demanded, if I recall correctly. I countered with training you against physical and magical threats. Did you not agree to that?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Remove your clothing.”

  There was a strange echo of power in his voice. I tried to shove it away, tried fighting it, but felt the pressure building and caving in. I desperately tried to erect an emotional barrier between us, but Wrath would have none of it. Before I could touch the summoning Mark on my neck, his voice rang out clear and strong and filled with dominating power.

  “Now.”

  The dam broke, and so did my will. My fingers swiftly loosened the buttons and stays of my trousers. I shimmied out of them, allowing the material to pool at my feet. My tunic was gone next. Wrath slid his attention from the top of my head to my toes, and pulled it up as slowly. There was no lust or warmth or appreciation in his gaze. Only anger.

  And he wasn’t alone in that feeling. I hated that he’d compelled me to disrobe. Choosing to do so in the Crescent Shallows was powerful, freeing. This was neither of those things. I would make him pay for this. As quickly as my need for revenge flared, it vanished with the next wave of his will.

  I went to remove my undergarments, but his voice cut through my haze. “Leave those on. Sway your hips.”

  I focused on the single ember of fury that hadn’t been tamped down by Wrath’s magical command. Trying with all of my might to ignite that kernel of emotion that still belonged to me, and use it to swat his magic away. I would be the one to decide when to undress before him or anyone else. I would be the master of my own will. And I would keep fighting for myself, no matter how dire or desperate or futile the situation became.

  Sensing my resolve, Wrath unleashed more of his power.

  “I said, sway your hips.”

  Sentient thought, emotion, and free will were locked deep inside me. All I knew was the sound of his voice, his desire. His will pumped through my veins, dominated me in every sense of the word. Became one with my heart.

  I did as he commanded. I became sin and vice. I was lustful. And I adored it.

  Swaying suggestively, I kept my attention on him. I wished he’d ask me to remove my undergarments. Then I wished he’d remove his.

  Wrath moved closer, his expression a study of cold fury. I could not understand why he was displeased. I erased the remaining distance between us and danced against him, pressing up against his tense body. Something about our position reminded me of another time, another dance. And the same anger that coursed through him at that bonfire.

  He was a difficult creature then, and doubly so now.

  “Is this not what you desire?”

  “Not at all.” He took a large step away, placing a hateful d
istance between us. “You will address me as master from now on. Drop to your knees.”

  “I will never—” Anger flared, then extinguished as quickly. I went to the ground, head bowed. “Does this please you, master?”

  “Remove my right boot.”

  I undid the laces of his boot, then pulled it off, waiting for his next direction.

  “Slide your hands up my to calf.” I reached for his leg and he yanked it back. “Start from the ankle.”

  Without hesitation, I dragged my hands up his body, and over the muscle of his calf. My fingers brushed against something hard. I glanced up. “Have I pleased you now, master?”

  Wrath reached down to lift my chin, his focus roaming across my face. He was searching for something, but the deep frown indicated he hadn’t found it.

  “Learn to protect yourself. That will give me ultimate pleasure.”

  With him, I somehow understood the very essence of pleasure. That I could do. I let go of his calf and reached for the band of his trousers. “Let me please you now, master.”

  The temperature around us plummeted several degrees.

  “If I wanted you on your knees, bare before me, without a thought of your own in your head, I would will it. If I desired to fuck you into our marriage, you’d do exactly as I said. And you’d beg for more. Neither attracts, nor pleases me. I long for an equal. Grab the dagger hidden on my leg. Get up.”

  I slid the blade from the leather sheath and pushed myself to my feet, heart sinking at his harsh tone and dismissal of my advances. I reached for his hand, hoping to entice him to take what I was offering. “I—”

  Fury, untamed, overwhelming, and all-consuming burned away the lust I’d felt. I gripped the dagger so hard my hand ached. Wrath did not take his attention from mine as he slowly undid the first few buttons of his pristine shirt. “Press the blade to my heart.”

  I closed the distance between us, the tip of the dagger pricking his skin. I was now wrathful. I was fury in the flesh. And I would take what was owed to me and mine.

  Beginning now. With this hateful prince.

  Wrath leaned in, his voice low and seductive. “This is what you dream of. Blood and revenge. Take your vengeance, witch. Recall what I just made you do. How you fell to your knees, begging to please me. Let hatred and your favorite sin consume you.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Perhaps you liked it when I made you strip. When I bent you to my will.”

  “I said shut up!”

  “Maybe I should show you how very wicked I can be.”

  I stared at his chest, at the blade piercing his skin. A slight trickle of blood rolled down his body. Through the wrath and fury overwhelming my senses, I remembered. I’d taken a blade to his heart before. In the monastery. He’d sworn it would take much more than a dagger to his chest to end him. I’d wanted to test the truth in those words then. He was offering me the chance to do so now. I swallowed hard, my throat bobbing. Unshed tears burned my eyes.

  My hand shook, the blade digging in harder as I strained against it.

  “Take. Your. Vengeance.”

  His demonic influence battled my will. And won.

  A tear slipped free as I leaned into the blade, using my upper body weight to shove through muscle and bone. I watched with blazing fury as it slid into his chest. Blood poured from the wound, stained his shirt, made my fingers slick. I didn’t pull it out. I twisted the dagger, gritting my teeth before I screamed loud enough to summon Satan himself.

  The demon prince watched impassively as I yanked the blade free and stabbed him again.

  And again.

  And again.

  EIGHTEEN

  Wrath removed all influence over me at once.

  I stared at the blade sticking out of the demon’s chest, my whole body violently trembling in the aftermath. Nausea coursed through me in place of the rage I’d just felt. I let go of the weapon and jerked back, unable to look away. There was so much blood. Wrath’s blood.

  It bloomed obscenely across his white shirt like a flower of death. And if it had been anyone else, they would be dead. I would have killed them. I dragged in breath after breath, the weight of what could have been, of what I did, nearly crushing me.

  Wrath wrenched the dagger from his chest and tossed it away. I flinched as it clattered against the far wall, the only sound in the chamber now aside from my ragged breaths. He’d made me stab him. In the heart. I… I couldn’t stop looking at the place I’d shoved the dagger in. Couldn’t stop hearing the sickening crunch of bone as I pierced his chest. I fought to keep my hands at my sides, to not cover my ears and scream until that wretched sound ceased in my head.

  The wound was already healed, but his shirt was damp with blood. Memories of another chest, another heart, flooded my senses. My twin. All I could envision was her brutalized body. How easily it could have been her under my blade. Fighting back had been useless.

  I turned my hands over, sticky, bloodstained palms up, and cried, “How dare you? How dare you subject me to that depravity?”

  “Yes, how dare I teach my wife to protect herself against her enemies.”

  “I am not your wife yet. And if this is your idea of proving why we ought to marry, you’re mad. You are the most despicable creature I’ve ever had the misfortune to know.”

  “If that were true, I would have left you as Lust had when I released you from my thrall.”

  The demon thrust a dressing gown at me. I hadn’t seen him holding it before, but I hadn’t noticed much of anything aside from the sins he’d wanted me to experience.

  I was seeing plenty now.

  His expression was the closest thing to murder I’d ever witnessed. As if his little power display infuriated him more than it had me. As if that were even possible.

  I’d pierced his heart with a dagger. I’d never been so upset in my life. And I’d felt a lot of angry emotions since my twin’s murder.

  I snatched the dressing robe and shoved my arms through it, hating him for knowing I would need it. I also understood with vivid clarity why he wore white. His preparation for the training made me seethe all the more. It indicated he knew exactly what sins he’d use, what he’d influence me to do, and he’d thought ahead to what I’d need after his little power display.

  I was tempted to stride back to my bedroom suite in my underwear, or strip down to nothing. Let his court see me in all my glory.

  “Be my guest.” He no doubt discerned my thoughts from my body language. He swung an arm out. “If you’d prefer to walk around without the robe, I certainly won’t object.”

  “You really should quit speaking now.”

  “Make me.”

  “Don’t tempt me, demon.”

  “Do it.” He moved until he towered over me. “Use your power. Fight back.”

  Childish taunt. I dipped into my source of magic, trying to wrench a bit of power up to knock him on his smart ass. A wall of nothing greeted me again. I was so frustrated, I wanted to scream. Wrath’s eyes narrowed, missing nothing.

  “We will train every day until the Feast of the Wolf. You will learn to protect yourself from my brothers. Or you will suffer greater indignities than the ones I have demonstrated today. Be thankful, fiancée, that I do not wish to harm your person. Only your ego and pride. Both, if I am not mistaken, can be repaired.”

  “You made me stab you.”

  “I heal fast.”

  Too bad the emotional impact of today’s little lesson wouldn’t heal as quickly. I cinched the belt at my waist. “I despise you.”

  “I can live with your hate.” A muscle in his jaw flickered. “Far better to use it to your advantage, rather than adore me and succumb to the depravity of this world.”

  “Why violence?” My voice was quiet. “You did not need to unleash my wrath that way.”

  “I offered you an outlet. Vengeance is poison, a slow death of self. Seek justice. Seek truth. But if you choose revenge over all else, you will lose more than your soul.


  “You cannot seriously be claiming to care about my soul.”

  “Your grief cannot be extinguished through hatred. Tell me, do you feel as you imagined? Did spilling my blood heal your wounds? Have those scales of justice finally tipped into balance, or did you slip a little further into something you don’t recognize?”

  I set my jaw and glared. We both knew I did not feel better. If anything, I felt worse.

  “I didn’t think so.” He turned on his heel and strode toward the door. “I will meet you here tomorrow evening.”

  “I never agreed to multiple training sessions.”

  “Nor did you set parameters during our bargain. I suggest you come prepared to do battle, or you will find yourself once again in your underthings, on your hands and knees before me, begging. Or stabbing. Or both.”

  I reined in my emotions. Wrath was currently a giant ass, but he was never impulsive. “Does the timing of this first lesson have to do with my visiting House Envy?”

  “No.” Wrath did not turn back, but he paused before opening the door. “Votes to choose the guest of honor for the Feast of the Wolf were cast yesterday.”

  And there it was. He must have hoped someone more interesting would have emerged to take my place. “You still believe I’ll be chosen.”

  “Of that I have little doubt.”

  “Your plan tonight was to what? Show me how heartless you truly are, how powerful?”

  “My brothers will be more than happy to show you how sinful they can be in front of a large, eager audience.” He took a deep breath. “If you thought Makaden was bad, his behavior is nothing compared to a gathering hosted by my family. They will take until they’re bored. Then they’ll discard the broken pieces. And,” he added quietly, “if you are so appalled by what just happened here, in front of only me, you truly have no idea what you’re in for.”

  “You should have warned me we’d begin training tonight.”

  “My brothers will not ask. Nor will they give any warning.”

  “I am not betrothed to your brothers. If you want an equal, I suggest treating me like one. We may have made a bargain, but that does not mean I couldn’t be forewarned.”

 

‹ Prev