Kingdom of the Feared (Kingdom of the Wicked, #3)(7)

“Down, puppy.” Vitoria tsked. “Don’t play too rough. Yet.”

Before I could absorb the hurt of that statement or wonder how much rougher things would get aside from being chained, Domenico shoved me away, and with another lazy wave of his hand, the locks on my manacles clicked open. My restraints clattered to the ground, the sound as foreboding as an executioner’s blade coming down on the condemned.

This was it, the moment I’d been dreading, and I felt wholly unprepared.

Heart hammering, I turned my back on the raging werewolf and faced my undead twin, steeling myself as our gazes met and held.

For months Vittoria had let me believe she was dead. Murdered violently. Allowed me to discover her heartless body, broken and bloody in that tomb. Tearing my world apart and destroying who I was on the most basic level. Vittoria’s deceit was a wound that would never properly heal; it would forever leave emotional scars on my soul and in my heart.

Even with her standing before me now, alive and well, there was no hope of ever returning to before. Too much had passed between us to simply forget and move on, and that, more than anything else, was something I mourned. No matter how hard I wished otherwise, we’d both changed irrevocably. And I wasn’t sure the pieces of our new lives fit together anymore.

To push past the growing ache in my chest, I thought about my betrothed. Of how my twin had ruined this night for me, too. Instead of sorrow, I focused on the fury, the wrath that had gotten me through my own personal hell. And all emotions, save one, disappeared.

If I’d been capable of feeling worry instead of pure wrath, perhaps my sister’s triumphant grin would have caused a flicker of unease. As it stood, she was about to discover that she was not the only one capable of instilling apprehension. It was time Vittoria feared me.

I dipped into my source of magic, relieved to feel the enormous well of power that crackled under my skin. If my sister wanted to see what I was capable of, I’d gladly show her.

“You have five minutes to explain yourself.” When I spoke, my voice was colder than the air around us, colder than even the most wicked circle of Hell. I swore the shadows paused before skittering into nothingness, hiding from the great reckoning they sensed coming.

“And then?” Vittoria asked.

My smile was a beautiful nightmare. For the first time, Vittoria’s brow creased as if she’d just realized there was one fatal flaw in her plan. Monsters could be created but never tamed.

“And then, dear sister, you’ll meet the witch you forced me to become.”





TWO


“Bite your tongue or I’ll remove it.” Domenico stepped forward, claws extending and quietly snarling at the threat I posed, but Vittoria raised her hand, stalling him. I was too furious to be surprised at how quickly he backed down from the simple, unspoken command.

“Have you not become more powerful? More… bold?” Vittoria asked, cocking a brow. “You’ve finally stepped out of the safe little hole you’ve been hiding in, only to live a life now worthy of a bard’s pen. Do they sing ballads of boring witches, wiling away their time in hot kitchens, pining after equally boring holy men like Antonio? I would imagine a grand romance with the king of demons is something much more interesting. Especially in the bedchamber. For the sake of the Great Divine above, Emilia. The death of your former life is something you should thank me for. Antonio, Sea & Vine, you and I were always meant for bigger things.”

“Boring?” Anger lanced through me. “I loved my life and our kitchen. Apologies if what I consider fun, or who I found attractive, is so repulsive to you. And since when do you hate Sea & Vine? You loved our family and our time cooking together, too. Or have you forgotten us? In your quest for… whatever it is you’re after. How could you do that to us, to me?”

My voice broke on the last question, and I yanked hard on my fury again, centering myself. Vittoria watched me closely. “I did what had to be done for us. It might not seem like it, but I swear this has all been for you and me. The curse—”

She bit down on whatever she wished to say but couldn’t.

“Oh, yes, the curse.” I swatted the air as if the curse were a bothersome housefly. “The bloody, fucking curse that no one can speak of. I’m finished with this fickle magic and every hexed being involved! Why did you fake your murder? How was that in any way helpful to me?”

She seemed to choose her next words carefully. “Even the most volatile fuel requires a spark to cause flames.”

Cryptic as always when the curse was at play. “Why could you possibly need so much fire?”

Her gaze turned into a hard, glittering gem of hatred. For a second, it wasn’t lavender that flashed from her irises, but a deep ruby red. “To watch our enemies burn. To reclaim what is ours by might and birth. And to break the final chains that bind us once and for all.”

“And our family? Are they your enemies? Did they deserve to bury you in that crypt? To believe you were rotting away with our ancestors?”

“Yes. Though I highly doubt they believed I was rotting away. That little lie was something I imagined they fed to you, their favored one. Or should I say, the most feared.” Vittoria’s admission fell between us, heavy under the weight of the truth she believed it to be. “And they aren’t the only ones who will come to fear us. I have adopted one bit of advice from our dear family. Keep your acquaintances close, but your enemies closer.”