Kingdom of the Feared (Kingdom of the Wicked, #3)(47)

Last time, I’d felt as if my heart were about to stop; the pain had been so acute, so terrible, he’d taken me directly to the Matron of Curses and Poisons, my mother unbeknownst to me at that time. She’d crafted a tonic for me, and all had been well. As far as I knew, she was still holding Vittoria underground for the time being, and I wasn’t thrilled by the prospect of having a similar reaction without her nearby.

Wrath drew me closer so he could inspect my wound again, his gaze icy and hard.

“It wasn’t you; it was my wings. The magic that binds them reacted against the spell-lock that obscures your memories. When combined, there were too many magics at play, and the waters acted as if both were threats.” He took in the uncertainty in my face. “I had Celestia research more about it. She doesn’t think you’ll have an issue if you reenter the water. The healing properties should work now, as they were always meant to. If I thought otherwise, I’d not chance it.”

A story came back to me. One Celestia had mentioned that night. About the water belonging to the goddesses and trying to take back what was theirs. Wrath had called it a folktale and told her to stop spreading lies. I looked from the water to him, trying to puzzle it out. Something didn’t quite make sense… something—

“Strip.” Wrath stepped back and nodded to my gown. He shrugged out of his shirt and undid the button on his trousers. His devious lips curled at the edges, like he knew exactly where my thoughts had traveled with that one word. “Let’s get into the water and heal that wound before it gets worse.”

“I am immortal, aren’t I?”

“Not fully. At least not yet.” He held out his hand, encouraging me to step into the water I remembered being as warm as a bath. “Come join me, my lady. Please.”

I recalled he’d once said there were truth properties to the shallows. Right now, I wanted some truth from him as much as I wanted to heal. I stepped to the edge of the glittering dark sand and let the ice-blue water lap at my toes. The lagoon was magical, enchanting. It called to me.

Wrath moved back, going a little deeper, to make room. I followed him in and took his hand, relishing the tiny bubbles that fizzled pleasantly across my skin.

We waded out until my chest was fully submerged and the magic of the water began tending to my wounds. It felt incredible. And a little odd as the magic cleansed my cuts, then knit my skin together. Even the wound I’d made when I’d sworn a blood vow in Pride’s throne room healed. Any momentary discomfort vanished almost as quickly as it appeared.

Wrath watched the magical water work, concern present in his normally stoic features. He looked ready to jump in and attack at the first sign of trouble. “Better?”

I glanced down, pleased to see the wound had healed. Faint silver lines remained, but the scar didn’t trouble me. Not half as much as the secret I feared Wrath was still keeping. “Much.”

My husband tentatively reached over and dragged a finger over my flesh, checking to make sure it was well and truly healed. I looked over his shoulder, admiring the moon phases painted along the cavern’s walls while he continued his thorough inspection. I had wondered before if he’d painted the celestial scene but couldn’t picture him spending hours with a paintbrush or bucket of paint. Though he often surprised me. Perhaps he had.

“Is there a reason you keep saving my life when it’s not exactly in danger?” I looked at him again, waiting. “I imagine there must be something that worries you.”

Wrath circled me, the waves from his movements gently breaking against the shore. I wasn’t sure if the curse made it difficult for him to speak or if he was purposely picking and choosing what he’d share with me. “As far as I know, if your heart stops now, while you’re not entirely immortal, it could kill you. Until I know for certain, it’s a risk I refuse to take.”

“Envy said a drop of immortality wins out against mortality every time.” Though I left out the part where Envy had also been concerned if that were entirely true.

“Are you that willing to give up your heart to find out?” he asked.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, needing the physical contact. His arms went around my waist automatically, anchoring me against him, solid and comforting. We’d been through hell, and I wanted a reminder that we were here, together. Safe. He dipped his face and captured my mouth with his, the kiss hungry and filled with raw, powerful emotion.

When we finally broke apart, breathing hard, our lips pleasantly swollen, I grinned. “For you? I’d give my heart up.”

He looked at me, his expression hard to read. And I wondered if maybe he wasn’t quite ready to give me his heart in return, that even though we were now mostly married, perhaps all the demons from our past hadn’t yet been banished. Maybe that’s why he hadn’t mentioned anything about us completing the ceremony that would seal our marriage for good.

Granted, there hadn’t been much time to discuss it before we were attacked by wolves and separated, but still. Before I could worry over it, Wrath’s mouth slanted over mine again, like his very life depended on the connection.

His tongue demanded entry, and I parted my lips for him, welcoming his taste. Wrath’s kisses were certainly intoxicating. Each expert flick or tease of his tongue against mine had my body craving other unspeakable things he could do with that wicked mouth.