Kingdom of the Feared (Kingdom of the Wicked, #3)(44)

Ornamental molding was used as trim on both the floor and upper wall. Arched mirrors hung along the walls on the left and right, creating a mirrored pathway to the prince. Of course someone as prideful as he was would require so many opportunities to gaze upon his glorious self.

At the end of the very long hall of mirrors, Pride lounged on his throne, wearing a deep navy-and-gold brocade waistcoat, slim trousers in charcoal, and dark brown boots that gleamed. He looked every inch the prince he was, styled in the highest of fashion. With my battle-worn and blood-flecked clothing and lack of a bathing chamber visit, I knew I looked wildly out of place. I didn’t care. Only one thing was on my mind at the moment: the portal.

Envy and I walked through the parted crowd of sneering courtiers, all dressed impeccably, like each demon court I’d visited. Each of these demons had nearly perfect features, making me wonder if their eerie perfection was the result of magical enhancements, not a result of nature. It also made me think of the scar their prince had on his lips; how he probably had the option to conceal it but chose not to. Which made me wonder how he’d gotten it once more.

“Some of us take pride in our appearance,” the prince of this circle said, almost answering my thoughts. I schooled my features into an unreadable mask. Pride looked down his nose at me, his lip curling from either the blood or—more likely—the shredded material of my gown. “Not all of us, clearly. Though I suppose as an unofficial member of Wrath’s court, you don’t count.”

“It’s lovely to see you again, too. Thank you for the warm welcome.” I dropped the severed head on the floor, enjoying the hiss of disapproval coming from the courtiers as it rolled to the base of his throne and crashed to a stop. “And some of us spend our time doing more than sitting in fancy chairs, pretending to be drunk and looking pretty.”

“I don’t simply look pretty. I am dashing,” he said arrogantly. I fought the urge to roll my eyes at his vanity. “To what do I owe the honor of this unannounced visit?”

“I need access to a portal on the outskirts of your land.”

“For what purpose?”

“To bring my husband back to his House of Sin.”

Pride glanced at my hand; if he noticed the SEMPER TVVS tattoo on my finger or recognized what it was, he didn’t let it show. “Perhaps it’s for the best that he remain where he is.”

My fury started rising, erasing all other emotions. Like diplomacy and civility. Envy cleared his throat, but I did not heed his warning. I was tired, the claw wound burned miserably, and I was a breath away from either crying or screaming or some mad combination of the two.

“If you do not allow me to pass, I will return. And when I come back, I’ll have the might of House Wrath’s army. No one will keep me from him. Not you. Not my sister. Not any other cursed creature in this realm or any other. If I come back, I will unleash my power. I will burn all you hold dear. That, I can promise, is no threat.” I dragged my blade across my palm, letting blood drop all over his beautiful floors. He watched, his brows rising slightly. “It’s a vow.”

“Making a blood vow is serious in this realm.”

“I am well aware.”

“I don’t think you—”

Pride’s head whipped toward the throne room door, and a second later, I heard it. The sound of an impending storm. Footsteps echoed like thunder. The temperature plummeted. Heeled shoes clattered over the marble floor as several courtiers rushed to the exit, their steps echoing as the sound of sleet suddenly smashed against the windows.

I glanced at the arched window behind Pride, noting the sky was now an ink black. Wind howled, more menacing than any werewolf could hope to be. The very walls shook with the next gust outside. A mirror cracked from the sudden coating of ice.

My heartbeat ticked faster, and I slowly turned, hope igniting deep within. Unlike the rest of this court, it wasn’t fear pounding furiously in my chest. A courtier ran toward the dais, a golden crown nestled on a crushed velvet pillow. He placed it on Pride, then backed away, nearly tripping over his feet as the doors crashed open, shattering against the wall.

Smoke and snow swirled into the room. And then Wrath was there. Striding into the chamber with an expression of murder on his handsome face. His attention shot to me, softening for the briefest moment, before he noticed the claw marks down my chest, looking just as bad—if not worse—as the last time he’d seen them. He turned that frigid gaze back on his brothers, and another icy blast circled the room. I wanted to rush over to him, yank him close, and kiss him senseless. I settled for remaining as controlled as he was. Though inside I was battling the desire to make sure he was as unharmed as he appeared to be.

“Explain.” Wrath’s voice promised violence. “Now.”

An explanation for how my prince made it here was exactly what I desired, too, but our conversation would have to wait until we could speak privately. What had been left of Pride’s court fled the room, not bothering to stay and witness what promised to be quite the show. The prince of this circle watched as the last one rushed off and left me and the three demon princes to our private battle. Pride gave his brother a haughty look.

“You didn’t think I’d simply welcome a queen without first testing her loyalty, did you?” Pride said, ignoring the anger rolling off Wrath in waves. “Your judgment hasn’t always been the best where she’s concerned. We all have a right to know her true motives this time.”