Kingdom of the Feared (Kingdom of the Wicked, #3)(42)

“Wrath locked them. Why would he bind me or any other prince from leaving?”

“The magic isn’t demonic.” Envy sighed, his breath fogging in front of him. “The Star Witches have been up to their old tricks again.”

Star Witches like Nonna. She’d told me they were the guardians between realms. They acted as the wardens to the prison of damnation. Which I assumed was their name for the Seven Circles. She’d also claimed I was one of the guardians, but I now knew that for the lie it was.

Imagining my grandmother traveling here to lock me in was one more dagger to the heart. She’d promised to come find me after she told me to run and hide from the princes of Hell; she swore we’d reunite. I hadn’t told her I’d decided to come to the Seven Circles, and part of me wanted to believe that if she knew, she wouldn’t have locked me here.

“I’ll try anyway,” I said, still hopeful, though I had doubts.

I pressed my blade to my fingertip, wincing as the blood beaded up, and smeared the antler as Envy had done. I pictured the gates creaking open. Or even blasting open. I hoped that if I believed hard enough, the desired result would manifest. Nothing happened.

I studied the magic, a troubling thought entering my mind. Wrath was trapped outside this realm. Which meant either my sister transported him to the Shifting Isles before the Star Witches worked their hex or they somehow had worked in conjunction with each other.

If that was the case, then Nonna must know I was here.

Fire erupted in the air around us, vines crept up the gates, crushing and burning and yanking as if I could incinerate any barrier they tried putting between me and my husband. Blast after blast hit the gates, my fury growing with each failed attempt.

Envy cursed and stepped back, the flames rising higher and higher as if damning the heavens. Whatever spell the witches used, it didn’t so much as crack. I let my magic go, my shoulders slumping in defeat. My grandmother had really locked me in Hell.

“Nonna can’t be the villain.”

“Well, that’s the curious thing about perspective,” Envy said. “In her version of this tale, you’re evil. The prophesied dark one she must protect the mortal world from.”

“But I would never hurt anyone. Regardless of a prophecy.”

Even as I said it, I knew it was a lie. If someone hurt Wrath or anyone else I loved, I wouldn’t hesitate to bring them pain in return. To strike back brutally and viciously.

Envy pressed his lips together, likely already knowing what I’d just realized, and kept his commentary to himself.

There were so many layers to peel back. The curse. The prophecy. I’d barely remembered there was one at all, though the details of it had always been murky. Something I’d been told was a result of the curse, how it twisted with each retelling of the tale.

My friend Claudia had been the one to tell me the hazy memories were a result of the curse, that it was what stopped all of us from remembering. Until then, I hadn’t even known there was a curse or a prophecy, only a blood debt owed to the devil. Or so Nonna claimed. My grandmother finally told me about the prophecy the night we said our good-byes. She hadn’t given many details, only hinted that Vittoria and I somehow signaled the end of the devil’s curse.

“It’s like you said the night I met you,” I said, smiling sadly at Envy. “It is a tangled web.”

“And we have only begun to snip the threads.”

We were both quiet for a moment. “If you were going to kill someone here and didn’t want anyone detecting details, would you use werewolf blood to cover your tracks?”

If Envy was surprised by my subject change, he didn’t let it show.

“If I wished to incite a war, perhaps. The wolves’ senses are superior. They’d eventually track down the truth and strike hard and fast. It’s one of the reasons demons stopped kidnapping wolves years ago. Using wolf blood wasn’t worth the price they’d end up paying.”

“Do you think Vittoria killed Greed’s commander?”

“I think it doesn’t actually matter one way or another. Whether it was her or witches or shifters. Whether Vesta was kidnapped or feigned her death,” Envy said, “Vittoria is the catalyst. She could have apologized, told the truth. Called a truce, anything. Instead, she gathered an army of wolves. She tried to entice Greed into an alliance, knowing it would pit him against us, to use him for whatever game she’d planned. She toyed with me, broke into my House, slept with my second. She went to the vampire court, stirred discord there. She mocked Pride.”

“She did?”

“Vittoria clearly enjoys chaos.” Envy surveyed the gates one last time. “I know of a secret portal—one the witches don’t have access to that will take us to the Shifting Isles.” He glanced at my dagger. “Keep that ready. I imagine we’ll need it.”

Before I could ask where it was or why I’d need a weapon, he grabbed my hand and we transvenioed to the secret portal. As the smoke cleared from our demonic travel, I realized why I needed the weapon. Several Umbra demons stood shoulder to shoulder, not so invisible, as they blocked our path. Behind them was a massive pearl-and-gold castle. Ornate to the point of excess, and yet it wasn’t Greed’s or Gluttony’s House of Sin. It was Pride’s.

I flashed Envy an incredulous look. “Let me guess, you don’t have an invitation.”