Kingdom of the Feared (Kingdom of the Wicked, #3)(81)

I peered into the magical well; the water was crystal clear, showing off what had to be thousands of crystals all along its bottom. Each gemstone represented a memory or a nightmare. Something terrible enough that whoever had let the memory go would not miss it.

I wondered if Wrath had come to find a memory or to lose one. It wasn’t important. The only thing that mattered now was finding out as much as possible about this blade that, according to Fauna’s research, could end my husband’s curse. I could not lose sight of that, or I had no hope of succeeding.

I climbed over the small wall and submerged myself in the water, ignoring the slight nip of coldness that seeped into my clothing. “Where is the Blade of Ruination?”

I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the well, allowing my mind to focus solely on the answer I was searching for. My fingers skimmed over several crystals before I paused on one that felt slightly warmer. Fauna hadn’t mentioned anything like that, but maybe it was a positive sign that I’d attracted the correct memory. There was only one way to find out. My fingers closed around the crystal, and I drew the memory into me, taking it on as if it were mine.


Fear clawed at the young wolf, tearing screams from its already torn-apart throat. It was just a pup, but it sensed the dark magic of the man. Demon. His cruel slash of a mouth pressed into a thin line when his coin-colored gaze drifted back to her. She’d heard him enter their home, heard the hushed words he’d spoken with her papa, and immediately shifted. Something her papa told her wasn’t supposed to be possible. And a mistake she’d immediately regretted once the demon had scruffed her up by the neck and held her up.

“This is your firstborn? The hybrid warrior?”

His tone hinted at disbelief. The pup growled, baring her small canines.

Papa’s eyes widened. “Yes, your highness. Her very name means ‘dedicated to Mars,’ the god of war, as you—”

“I care nothing for mortal gods. She will be given a proper demon name once we’re back in my court.”

The pup wriggled in the stranger’s grip, panicked. She didn’t know what court was and didn’t wish to find out. Papa’s throat bobbed; the wolf pup pleaded wordlessly for him to take her back, take her from this stranger’s grip. Her mother, the woman who never loved her for some reason, had already gone to bed. If Papa didn’t save her, no one would.

“Your highness”—Papa squared his shoulders, and hope surged in the young pup—“perhaps there is something else I can give you to clear my debt. She is but a pup. Scraggly and unremarkable. Let me raise enough coin instead. Or perhaps… perhaps I will succeed in finding the Blade of Ruination.”

“You haven’t found the blade yet and likely never will.” The stranger held the pup up to his face again, inspecting her closely. “She shifted, about twenty years early, according to your own history. That seems fairly remarkable to me. And what of her demon abilities? What sort of magic does she possess on that end?”

“I… I’m unsure, your highness.”

The demon narrowed his eyes. “Lie to me again and I will remove that troublesome tongue.”

“Please.” Papa’s voice was barely a whisper, a broken plea spoken from a broken man. Even though she’d been warned not to, the wolf pup used a bit of her magic to soothe him. “Please, your highness. Ask me for anything else. Please don’t take my daughter.”

“How does your wife feel, raising the by-blow of a demon you bedded?”

“She will grow to love the child. My daughter shouldn’t pay the price for my sins. Please. Please strike another bargain.”

The demon’s mouth pressed into a displeased line as her baby brother cried out from his crib. “Has your son shifted early, too?”

Papa glanced at the cradle, swallowing hard. “No, your highness. He shows no signs of shifting early.”

“Then our business concludes here. Hand over your daughter and stand down.”

The stranger jerked his chin, and a man with deer fur and liquid brown eyes stepped from the shadows. The pup whined as the monster—demon—reached out and took her. Her whines turned to shrieks as he shoved her into a sack and cinched it closed. Through her earsplitting howls, she heard the stranger say, “You were foolish enough to bargain with House Greed. I suggest you think about the consequences the next time you gamble something so valuable away.”


Tears streamed down my face, and I gritted my teeth against the mournful howls I still heard as the young wolf had been taken from her family. I felt the sorrow, the despair, the terror she’d experienced, but there was nothing I could do to help that pup. I desperately searched for a clue from the memory to guide me to her, to seek her out once I’d accomplished my task here.

The father seemed almost familiar, but his features had been obscured by both the darkness of the room and the tears of the wolf pup. I was almost certain his accent had been from my version of the Shifting Isles, but there was nothing to indicate how long ago that memory had been purged. It could have been months, or decades. Perhaps even a hundred years. Still, I felt helpless. And I hated Greed a little more.

How he could have taken someone’s child, no matter what they’d gambled…

“A hybrid child.” The result of a wolf mating with a demon. Just as I suspected Vesta had been. If she still lived—as I believed she did—then this memory proved the court rumors the duke had shared were correct—Vesta had to have been unhappy.