Kingdom of the Feared (Kingdom of the Wicked, #3)(76)

If my spell-lock were still in place, I’d be disturbed by the idea of my lengthy existence. Instead, I cast my newly freed memory back, tunneling into a vast cavern that spanned what seemed like eons. Recalling a time before the princes of Hell left me with an impression of boredom. Debauchery. Back before the devil took his throne, Vittoria and I had greeted souls.

And they did not enjoy our welcome party.

We were ruthless, wicked creatures. And we reveled in it.

I had a clear impression that was why our mother had tampered with memories to begin with, why she’d also created the veil between the mountains separating House Vengeance from the rest of the Seven Circles. Celestia didn’t want anyone to recall the time before the demons ruled. When worse creatures reigned.

Wrath’s power shifted suddenly, drawing me into the present; it blinked out from where he’d been and reappeared closer. More powerful. It burned like the heat of the sun. He was angry. Savagely so.

Great Divine above, his wrath made my fury sing like a battle hymn. His attention reached out, and I knew he was sensing my power and following it to its source. Outside the tower, footsteps thundered down the corridor. Fauna quickly offered her good-byes and dashed out the door. Her emotions spiking wildly. Our king was in a wretchedly foul mood.

And I had a good indication why.

I perched against the table, waiting for what promised to be quite a display of emotion. His arrival did not disappoint. Wrath wrenched the door off its hinges and tossed it away as if it weighed nothing. Golden eyes blazed with his sin as they settled on mine. If there was a quick flash of relief, it was immediately replaced by the hardness of anger.

“The door did nothing to deserve that,” I said.

“You could have died.”

I made a show of carefully looking myself over. “Envy was correct. Immortality won out.”

“It was a risk.”

“A calculated one.” I smiled. This time it didn’t provoke fear. Wrath’s steady gaze never wavered from my face, his anger still burning brightly between us. “I know why you didn’t wish for the spell-lock to be broken.” He crossed his arms over his chest and cocked a brow. Alluring, arrogant demon. “I am able to control my fury. Your subjects have nothing to fear.”

“Is that so?” Wrath shook his head. “The smell of smoke lingering on your clothes has nothing to do with vengeance? Somehow, I cannot picture you and your sister sitting around a fire, discussing times past like two civilized goddesses.”

“A little act of vengeance was well deserved, and you know it.” I gave him a hard stare, my power surging up to confront his before I gripped it tightly. “The witches ought to count their blessings I took only their restaurant and not their lives. They can rebuild. And they will think twice before crossing me again.”

“You’re right.” Wrath sighed. “They’ll think before directly attacking you. But that will not stop them from responding with fire of their own.” He held my gaze, his own turning as icy as his tone. “Greed was called away from the Pit to his House. His spies spotted witches gathering in the mountains behind his circle. They’re going to attack. Then they’re going to blame you.”

And that was the root of my husband’s anger.

Greed would demand retribution from me as well as Vittoria and my prince would be forced to make a choice that would end in bloodshed. There would be no game Wrath and I could play to avoid that; more and more, Greed was becoming a problem. There was little doubt in my mind that he was responsible for the enchanted skull to cast suspicion on my twin. Whether he knew or suspected Vesta was alive didn’t seem to matter. He wanted vengeance. And he’d use this as the perfect excuse to exact some.

My hands curled into fists at my sides. “Send a missive to House Greed requesting a visit immediately. We’ll attack the witches before they strike. And this time, I will not be merciful. Let the witches and your brother see what I am capable of.”

I spun on my heels and headed to my suite, my lavender gown billowing around me like a storm cloud. It was time to dress for war.





TWENTY


Sleet drummed icy claws along the stone parapet of House Greed. We stood silently on the narrow pathway, gazes locked onto the tree line in the distance, ignoring the frigid water pelting our battle leathers. A guard spotted a flicker of light toward the northwest. It was impossible to know if it was meant to distract or if it had been an accident. I doubted the witches would be so careless, given how calculated they were, but stranger things had happened when emotions ran high. Which made me wonder…

I surveyed the quiet grounds, magic primed and ready. Even with the sleet coming down hard, no birds or animals stirred in the woods. It seemed as if the whole circle was holding its breath, waiting. I hadn’t yet sensed any fear. Greed’s lawn extended hundreds of meters in all directions, a clever way to remove any cover for unfriendly or unwelcome visitors. Like witches.

My hand flexed at my side. When thinking of witches, it was impossible to not wonder about Nonna. If she was with the witches here now, I would not hesitate to defend the demons. Even if that meant I had to battle her. I prayed it wouldn’t come to that, but there was no longer any telling what my “grandmother” was capable of.

Wrath’s arm brushed against mine, his warmth a contrast to the winter storm. Wind gusted along the castle wall, growling low. Dark clouds had gathered above House Wrath shortly after our plan had been made. The current weather was no doubt a result of my husband’s tense mood. His first request for us to be admitted into this circle hadn’t been met well. After the incident with the gaming hall, the Prince of Greed wasn’t eager to have me in his residence again. The Duke of Devon had also campaigned against me, advising his prince to not allow a vengeful witch into their House of Sin again. He hadn’t been informed that that vengeful witch was actually a goddess of the underworld and he ought to mind what he said.