“The point of this lesson was to show how vulnerable you are, not shame you.”
I stared at the tense lines of his back. The white-knuckled grip he had on the door handle.
“I am not a hero, Emilia. Nor am I a villain. You ought to know that by now.”
“Leave me. I’ve heard enough excuses tonight.”
He didn’t move for a beat, and I braced myself for whatever he seemed to be struggling with saying. Without another word, he slipped from the room, the door quietly shutting behind him. I stared at the door for a few moments, gathering myself.
I imagined this training was as much for his benefit as it was for mine. If anyone succeeded in having me half-naked and writhing during the feast—or worse—the general of war might remind his family how he’d come by that military honor. And I didn’t think the path to that particular title had been cleared without a good deal of bloodshed on Wrath’s part.
I glanced at the dagger I’d used to stab him, the blade coated in his drying blood. I couldn’t quite identify the exact emotion raging through me in place of the fear, but I no longer felt nauseated. I felt like I could breathe fire. And with my ability to summon it, I might be able to do just that with a bit of practice. Goddess help the demon princes now.
I stormed into my bedroom suite and slammed the door with enough force to shake the large painting hanging near the bathing chamber. Of all the arrogant, spiteful, nasty tricks to pull. Yes, I’d agreed to the cursed bargain, but I hadn’t known it was a binding contract.
My cheeks flared with fury. Losing my sense of control rattled me more than any of his demonic tricks. When he walked into that training room, he had a plan and executed it flawlessly. And I’d been at his mercy. That. That was the core of my anger.
“‘You will address me as master from now on.’” I mocked, using my best impression of his voice. “Hateful monster.”
I charged into my bathing chamber and began scrubbing the blood from my hands, all the while seething at Wrath. Even though he didn’t appear particularly pleased or smug by his efforts, it did not change the fact he’d unleashed himself on me.
I dried myself off and marched in an angry circle around my room. I was mad with him for proving his point, but even more upset that I’d been rendered nearly helpless.
Taking all that aside, I had to admit it was far better to be subjected to Wrath’s influence, wretched though it may be, because at least I knew he wouldn’t carry things too far. He might make me strip and beg, or take a blade to his heart, but he’d never take true advantage or cause me to hurt anyone else.
I stared down at my now-clean hands. A troubling thought entered my mind. If a demon prince willed it, I would murder someone at their command. Wrath proved that tonight. Part of me wanted to stab him, but I never would’ve crossed that line on my own.
I thought of Antonio, how he’d been clearly under some influence. If Wrath could wield other sins with ease and strength, it stood to reason that his brothers also possessed the talent.
Which meant any one of them could have been manipulating Antonio into killing the witches. His hatred was already there because of how his beloved mother died. It would not have taken much for that emotion to be drawn out, used against him.
Shoving thoughts and worries from my mind about my sister’s murderer and the Feast of the Wolf vote, I went to my wardrobe and donned a simple black dress.
I glanced down as a flash of off-white peeked out from the darkness. One of the enchanted skulls had slipped from its covering when I’d removed my dress.
I expelled a breath. I still needed to sort through the skull puzzle and figure out if Envy had been the one who’d sent them. Doubt crept in regarding his involvement. It made little sense for him to secretly send the skulls only to openly share information with me.
I bent to replace the scarf when the outer door creaked open.
“Emilia, I wanted to—” Wrath’s attention fell on the enchanted skull. Whatever he’d been about to say was immediately forgotten as he crossed the room in a whirl of black, gold, and fury. He wrenched the skull from my wardrobe and spun around, staring as if he hardly knew me. “What the—”
“Unless you wish to be slapped with an unpleasant spell, I suggest you rethink your tone. We are no longer in your training ring. I won’t tolerate rudeness outside of our lessons.”
He inhaled deeply. Then exhaled. He repeated both actions. Twice. With each inhalation and exhalation, I swore the atmosphere grew charged. Storm clouds were gathering.
“If you would be so kind, my lady, to please explain how this came to be in your possession, I’d very much like to know.”
I noticed a vein in his throat throbbing. After what he made me do to him, it gave me a perverse sense of glee to see him so mad. “Why are you here?”
“To apologize. Answer me. Please.”
“Someone left it. Along with a second skull.”
“Second skull?” He spoke through his teeth, as if forcing polite manners against the incredulity playing out across his features. “Where, pray tell, is it now?”
“My wardrobe. Behind that ridiculous gown with the big skirts.”
Without uttering another word, Wrath calmly ducked inside my wardrobe and retrieved the object in question. It appeared to take Herculean effort on his part to remain calm. “Might I ask when the first skull arrived?”
“The night Anir brought food and wine.”
“The first night you were here?” His volume went up a notch. I nodded, which seemed to set his teeth on edge. “You didn’t think this information was worth sharing because…”
My smile was anything but sweet. “I was unaware that I needed to report to you, master. Would you have answered any of my questions?”
“Emilia—”
“Which brother possesses this sort of magic? Who would want to taunt me? Someone must hate me an awful lot. They enchanted the skulls with my sister’s voice. Another lovely dagger to my heart. Do you have any ideas to offer?”
I raised my brows, knowing he wouldn’t say a word. His lips pressed into a firm line and I couldn’t help the dark laughter that bubbled up from deep within.
“I suspected as much. Though I can promise you this, it will not be the last time I decide to keep my own counsel until I’ve thoroughly investigated on my own.” I pointed to the door. “Please leave. I’ve had quite enough of you tonight.”
His eyes narrowed at the dismissal. I doubted anyone ever spoke to him in such a way. It was high time he got used to it. “Regarding the training earlier—”
“I am fully capable of understanding the value in the lesson, no matter how appalling your methods. Regardless of our bargain, in the future, you will ask if I want to train.” I schooled my face into indifference. “If you’re not planning on sharing information with me, this interrogation ends now. Put the skulls back and get out.”
“The skulls will be locked somewhere safe.”
“Vagueness will not work for me. Be specific. If I permit you to take the skulls, where will they be?”
“My private suite.”
“I will see them when I wish. And you will share any information you learn.”
He glowered at me. “If we’re making demands, then, so long as you agree to dine with me tomorrow, I will grant your request.”
“I cannot give you an answer tonight.”
“And if I insist?”
“Then my answer is no, your highness.”
“You may beg off conversation tonight. Refuse to dine with me. But we will speak about everything. Soon.”
“No, Wrath. We will speak about this when we’re both ready to.” I watched him absorb the statement. “I will consent to the training, and your influence, only in that room. Everywhere else, you will respect my wishes.”
“Or else?”
I shook my head sadly. “I understand your realm is different, and your brothers are diabolical and conniving, but not every statement is a threat. At leas
t not between us. Know this: from here on out, if you do not respect my wishes, I will not stay here. It’s not to punish you, but to protect myself. I will forgive your lapse in decorum, judgment, and basic decency if you vow to learn from this mistake. You will, however, share all information you glean about the skulls, whether or not I decide to dine with you. Do we have a bargain?”
He looked me over, really looked, and finally nodded. “I accept your terms.”
Wrath collected both skulls and paused, his attention landing on my nightstand. And the journal on House Pride. “How were you planning on reading it? Let me guess.” His voice turned suspiciously low. “You were going to strike a bargain with a demon? Offer a piece of your soul.”
“I considered it.”
“Allow me to save you the trouble. It’s not written in a demonic language. And no bargain you strike with anyone—save me—will give you the answers you seek with any of those journals. All you had to do was ask and I would have given it to you.”
“Perhaps. But would you have given me a way to read it?”
“I don’t know.”
He strode from the room, and I didn’t move until I heard the click of the outer door closing. Then I slumped against the wall.
I counted off my breaths, waiting until I was sure he would not return, and then I allowed the tears to come hard and fast. I doubled over, sobs wracking my body, consuming me. In the matter of an hour I’d been subjected to multiple sins and had stabbed my potential future husband. Tonight could certainly be classified as an evening from Hell.
I abruptly stood, chest heaving with the effort to rein in my emotions.
I brushed the wetness from my cheeks and vowed once again to best my enemies. Even the ones who no longer felt like adversaries.
NINETEEN
Ice-coated flowers sparkled like crystal and branches tinkled like winter chimes above my head as I strolled through the garden.
It was cold enough that I needed fur-lined gloves and a heavy velvet cloak, but the morning itself was lovely. Peaceful. I hadn’t had many of those days over the last few months, and this felt decadent. I squinted up through the latticework of boughs. On a good number of trees leaves stubbornly clung to life, frozen until either warmth or sunshine set them free.
I still hadn’t seen the sun through all the snow and overcast skies, so it would probably be a good long while before a thaw happened. If ever. I recalled the way Wrath had soaked up the sun one lazy afternoon on the roof of his commandeered castle in my city. Back then I’d assumed he’d missed the fiery pits of his hellish home. Now I knew better.
Clusters of flowers—pinkish purple roses and peonies and something with petals that looked like tiny silver crescent moons—sprung up in wider sections of the maze. I slowly walked along the inner pathway, the hedges towering on either side, beautiful living walls dusted with snow. The gardens of House Wrath were another stunning example of his refined tastes.
I followed the meandering trail until I came upon a reflecting pool near the center.
A marble statue of a naked woman stood in the water, a crown of stars on her head, two curved daggers in hand, her expression one of icy fury. She looked as if she’d tear through the fabric of the universe with those nasty blades, and regret nothing of her actions.
An oversized serpent—twice the circumference of my upper arms—wound up her left ankle, slithered between her legs as it clung to the left calf and thigh, then coiled around her hips and rib cage. Its large head covered one breast while its tongue flicked out toward the other, not as if it were about to lick, but as if it were blocking it from the view of curious passersby.
I moved closer, entranced and a little horrified by it. The serpent’s body actually hid most of her private anatomy. A wicked protector of sorts. Its scales were carved with expert care, almost fooling one into thinking it had been real and turned to stone.
I circled the giant statue. Her hair, long and flowing, had little crescent moon–shaped flowers carved into the unbound locks. Near the bottom of her spine, a goddess symbol had been etched horizontally. I reached over to pet the serpent when a low, keening howl grumbled up from deep below the earth. I jerked back and connected with a wall of warm flesh.
Before fear registered or I had time to react, an arm with steel-like muscle snaked around my waist, tugging me close. A sharp dagger pressed into my side. I stilled, breathing as shallowly as possible. My assailant leaned in, their breath warm against my icy skin. Hair on the back of my neck rose.
“Hello, little thief.”
Envy.
I shoved my fear into the deepest part of my mind, far from where he could detect just how much he’d rattled me. “Attacking a member of House Wrath is foolish. And coming here without an invitation is doubly unwise. Even for you, your highness.”
“Stealing from a prince is punishable by death.” His low chuckle lacked any trace of humor. “But that’s not why I’m here, Shadow Witch.”
He dropped the dagger and released me so quickly I stumbled forward. I squared my shoulders and faced him, my expression cold and hard. “If you’ve come for the book of spells, your trip was wasted. It belongs to me.”
I’d meant to say it belonged to witches, but it felt like the truth when the words escaped my lips. Envy blinked slowly.
“Bold and brazen. Perhaps you’ve found those claws after all.” His attention slid over me and then to the statue. “Have you noticed anything odd lately? Perhaps something strange about your magic?”
“No.”
He flashed a quick grin. “We all sense lies, Emilia. Allow me to be blunt. You stole from me, but I stole right back from you. Tit for tat.”
“Nothing has been stolen from me.”
“There was a curse on the spell book. Anyone who removed it from my collection would lose something vital to them in return.”
Cold dread sluiced through my veins. I had not been able to dip into my source of magic since I’d come back from his royal house. “You’re lying.”
“Am I? Perhaps you ought to cast a truth spell on me.”
He sheathed his dagger and gave me another slow once-over as he waited. Even though I suspected it would be futile, I concentrated on that well of Source, trying to dip into it and draw enough magic to wipe him—and his smug expression—from this circle.
There was nothing but an impossibly thick wall where I’d once felt that slumbering beast. He sneered, as if the sight of me disgusted him.
“I didn’t think so. You, my dear, are no more than a mortal now.”
He turned and started walking away.
I marched after him, fuming. “You had no right to curse me.”
“And you had even less right to steal. I’d say we’re even.”
I thought of my plans to spell the wine at the Feast of the Wolf. I needed my powers back. That was nonnegotiable. “Fine. I’ll return the book. Wait here while I go get it.”
Envy stuck his hands in his pockets, considering the offer. “I find this is a much more interesting turn of events. Keep the book. I’d much rather watch your plans crumble.”
“I’m willing to strike a bargain.”
“Too bad you didn’t think of that before. I might have been open to an agreement that would benefit us both. Now? Now I’ll enjoy watching fate run its course.”
I clamped my teeth together to keep from either cursing him, or begging him to reconsider. A faint wail drifted up from the bowels of the earth again. Goose bumps swiftly rose along my body. I turned to stare at the statue.
“I’d not become too curious about that, pet.”
“I told you not to call me—”
I faced Envy again, only to discover he was already gone. A wisp of glittering green and black smoke wafting around was the only indication he’d been there at all. I glanced back at the statue and listened to the cries of whatever was being tortured deep beneath it. It was mournful, hopeless. Brokenhearted. A sound that pierced through my emotional armor.
<
br /> I wondered what was damned enough for Wrath to bury below his wicked House in the underworld, alone and miserable. Then I realized it must be more horrid than I could even fathom to receive that punishment. Wrath was a blade of justice, swift, unemotional, and brutal.
But he wasn’t cruel. Whatever was making that terrible cry…
I did not want to encounter it alone without magic. I hurried from the garden, the sounds of suffering still ringing in my ears long after I’d slipped between my sheets that night.
The next day, Fauna excitedly danced in place outside my door. Her knocks were as fast and light as a hummingbird’s wings. I opened the door and grinned. Her slippered feet moved as swiftly as she spun us around. “Invitations for the feast are arriving this week!”
My smile vanished. After Wrath’s devilish training session, I did not share her excitement. Honestly, I hadn’t been thrilled by the feast the first time he had told me about it, either. But now… now I found my gaze straying to the clock, jumping at every sound in the corridor. I was nowhere near being ready to withstand a demon prince’s influence. Not to mention, being without my magic was another obstacle I hadn’t anticipated.
Fauna seemed to think we wouldn’t hear about who was hosting for a few more days, but I had other suspicions. I had no base for the fears that kept growing, so I did my best to ignore the air of foreboding that settled over me like a storm cloud.
My friend called for tea and sweets and lounged in my receiving room with a book. I tried to relax the same way but was wound too tightly. After my encounter with Envy in the garden, I’d combed through books on magic, searching for a way to break a curse or hex.
It was complex—I’d either need the one who’d cast it to release me, or figure out the intricate structure of the curse; it was described in one grimoire as being similar to a series of magical threads woven together. I’d have to locate the source knot, then snip it. If I guessed wrong or undid the wrong knot, I could end up magically snipping the thread of life. And die.
The author of the book on hexes made sure to point that out several times, as if anyone could mistake the meaning of “snipping the thread of life.”
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