Kingdom of the Feared (Kingdom of the Wicked, #3)(91)

If Pride found out that Lucia lived, I had little doubt he would come for her. Seeing Lucia’s memories offered only one side of their story, but as with most tales, I suspected there was much more. If Pride cared for her half as much as Wrath cared for me, then he’d tear the realm apart to make sure she was safe.

And if Wrath had been correct, if Pride had never truly fallen for anyone other than his wife—and it had all been a terrible misunderstanding based on their shared pride—I could only imagine how hard he’d fight to win her back.

When I’d first encountered Pride before the Feast of the Wolf, he’d been growing slumber root and patrolling his grounds with an army none of his brothers knew about. I’d been worried he’d been plotting against Wrath, but now I wondered if he’d been training his guards for other purposes. Perhaps he’d been preparing to fight for his missing wife since she first disappeared.

Nonna had gotten one thing correct about demon princes: they stopped at nothing to get what they desired, especially when their hearts were involved. And if the one they loved most of all was potentially in danger? Then they’d unleash hell to save them.

Grumbling to himself about goddesses, Domenico stepped into the alley near our childhood home, a temple in disguise, and peered down the quiet street. He lifted his head and inhaled, scenting the air for any mortal or supernatural being. “Clear.”

My own senses told me that, but I was pleased for confirmation. His ability to scent was greater than mine. “Stay here. I’ll return as soon as I can. We need to be in and out as quickly as possible.”

Domenico folded his arms across his chest and stared down at me. I knew he’d been tall, but he seemed to have grown over the last few days. He was broader, his muscles more defined. It must be another werewolf trait. “If your sister asks, I’m not going to lie to her.”

“Which is why you don’t know where I’m going.” I patted his chest, and he grimaced. “Make sure no demons followed us. Or witches.”

“I don’t like this.”

“I know. Thank you for doing it anyway.”

Displeasure was written all over his face, but he didn’t argue. As a shifter, his emotions were easily readable. He didn’t hide his feelings like the demons did. Wolves were too close to nature for courtly games.

After what we’d been through, I understood the appeal my sister might see in them. Unlike vampires, witches, and demon princes, it was almost refreshing to know exactly where you stood with a werewolf. It wasn’t the time to ask, but I needed to see what his response was.

“You met Vesta, Greed’s commander.”

“Your point, goddess?”

“I heard a rumor that she might have been half werewolf. If that were true and she chose to run away, would you fight for her if that’s what she wished? Even if Greed were to find out she lived.”

His eyes glowed that pale purple, which indicated he was close to shifting. And he was also enraged. “I would tear the throat out of anyone who threatened my family. And I don’t care about demons enough to aid them in any way, especially if one of their own decided to leave.”

“Are all pack members considered family?”

Domenico lifted his face and breathed deeply. “Go. We’re about to have company.”

I hesitated for the span of one breath. A new theory was forming, but I couldn’t lose my chance at breaking the curse to follow that thread. Soon there would be no clock ticking and I’d solve this mystery once and for all.

I hurried down the alley and darted into the night, sticking to the shadows and listening for any signs of pursuit. It was late enough that most lights were out in the houses I passed. No one walked the streets, save for one or two stragglers who’d been deep in their cups. Claudia would be in bed, but she’d rouse when I knocked at the door. Or tossed a pebble at her window.

I was just rounding the corner and wondering what I’d do if her aunt Carolina was awake when I saw her slip out of the house wearing a dark hood. Carolina headed straight for a woman lingering near the opposite end of the street, wearing a similar dark robe. After their loss at House Greed, their use of cloaks didn’t surprise me.

I stopped dead in my tracks and pressed closer to the nearest building. Carolina paused, and the other woman glanced around, inadvertently giving the light from the moon an opportunity to reveal her features. Nonna Maria. I wasn’t surprised to see her cavorting with a dark witch. Nonna had been the witch Sursea summoned in that memory Claudia purged. The one who’d escorted Claudia here and gave her a new family. My grandmother had been working closely with the First Witch all along, and that alone ought to make me hate her.

I was… not relieved, but content to see she’d made it out of the bloodbath that occurred at House Greed. She’d wronged many, but I didn’t want her to die. Regardless of anything, she still felt like my grandmother and I believed the love she’d had for us had turned real. Nonna had been tender with us, had cared for us and been there on our darkest days.

I strained to hear her voice, but the two witches must have cast a spell or set up a ward to contain their whispers. No matter how hard I tried to hear them, no sound drifted my way. I hadn’t had the capacity to feel anything about Nonna’s involvement with Sursea while trapped in that memory, but it would have been another crushing blow if I’d remained mortal.