Kingdom of the Feared (Kingdom of the Wicked, #3)(31)

Vittoria shifted, her attention dropping to the lifeless wolf at her feet. With her free hand, she bent two fingers in a “come here” motion, and Domenico’s lifeless wolf body levitated. She cocked her head, looking at the heart that still beat slowly in her hand, then shoved it back into his chest. When she ripped her demonic hand back out, the wound healed immediately.

His matted fur disappeared, replaced by a shiny, nonbloodied wolf coat. All signs of death were gone. Domenico’s glowing eyes opened, and he snarled, baring his teeth.

Not at the creature who’d slain him, but at us. All I could do was stare, unable to process that my sister had not only murdered someone but also brought them back.

“We are hell gods, Emilia. We are the Feared.” My twin looked at me again. “Neither witches, nor shifters, nor even princes of Hell can stand against us when we’re united. Your power is awakening. It’s time to take back what is ours. It’s time to come home.”

My home was House Wrath. By choice. Something dark rose up inside me, protective.

“Is this why you cautioned me away from Wrath? Because you want me to join you?”

“Of course. You don’t belong with the demons. You belong with your blood.”

“And if I refuse to go with you?” I tested my grip on my dagger. “What then?”

My sister allowed a few beats of silence to pass, just long enough for it to be uncomfortable.

“We’ll find another way to free your power from its magical cage.” Vittoria ran her attention over Wrath, amusement lighting in her eyes as the ground rolled beneath her feet. “You are kerosene. Volatile. Noxious.” She pulled a dagger from the ethers. Its blade glowed with strange magic symbols. Wrath went preternaturally still. “And I am the spark you need to ignite.”

My husband didn’t wait for her to strike.

In a whirl of movement and fury, he unleashed the full might of his power.

And the wolves attacked.





EIGHT


Wrath fought with brutal grace, moving like a living, breathing nightmare as he cut a bloody swath through our enemies. He killed without mercy or pause. Something leapt, he destroyed, already on to the next kill before the former hit the ground.

His body wasn’t simply made for war; it was built for it through hard work, a weapon he’d honed to perfection for this very purpose. For a moment that just lasted from one heartbeat to the next, I could only stare at the warrior.

He struck; wolves went down and didn’t get up. Blood splattered across the snowy ground. The metallic tang thickening the air along with the gamy scent of adrenaline. In the matter of mere seconds, the demon of war had already taken down a dozen werewolves. A dozen more froze solid, their bodies suddenly encapsulated in ice, midattack.

Here the infernal truth of his power was on full display.

Wrath sent out a pulse of magic that traveled like lightning across the land. A signal, no doubt. The demon horses broke free of their carriage gear and bridles, charging through wolves, their metal teeth gnashing, tearing through flesh and bone with ease.

I snapped into action, fighting my way through the horde, trying to close ranks around us. Body memory guided my actions, as if I’d always known how to kill with the same sort of cold violence. As the goddess of fury, I’m sure I’d had plenty of practice, even if I couldn’t remember.

I smashed the hilt of my dagger into the frozen wolves, ignoring the chunks of bodies and bloodied meat that shattered with the ice. My body sung with power, with fury. But there was a limit—it felt like the wall that had been erected when Envy stole my magic.

The curse was still holding me back. For the first time, my anger at being purposefully kept in the dark overwhelmed my fear of learning the full truth. If we made it out of this fight, I silently vowed I would do everything I could to return to my true self.

Never again would I feel powerless or caged.

Snow started falling heavily, the already gray sky growing darker, more foreboding. If Wrath commanded snow and ice to do his bidding, it made sense that the underworld was a frozen tundra. His power could not be contained, so much that the very land bent to his will. I hoped it terrified our enemies. I wanted the realm itself to swallow them whole.

Wrath pushed forward, reaching the edge of the bridge right as more wolves dropped down from the Shadow Realm. The demon threw his powers behind him, freezing anything that moved other than me and his demon horses. Through the chaos of battle, I searched for my twin.

Vittoria had disappeared, but I felt her presence on the periphery. She was waiting. Whatever she had planned wouldn’t be good. I needed to get to her, convince her to stop, or incapacitate her myself. A wolf leapt, jaws snapping, and froze, crashing to the ground a foot from me. Blood splattered across my face. I didn’t stop to wipe it.

Behind me a whisper of movement drew my attention. I twisted, striking hard and fast at a wolf that went for Wrath’s back. It had come close. Too close. My fury bubbled deep within, threatening to boil over. I stayed close to my king, my rage a war beat that pounded in time with my heart. Wolves attempted to strike the demon, but either he took them down or I did. His horses growled to my right—biting and kicking their way through wolves.

On and on, it felt as if we fought for hours. Blood saturated the ground, my cloak soaking it up like an offering. I reveled in it, thanked it. I welcomed more.