Kingdom of the Cursed (Kingdom of the Wicked, #2) (104)

His gaze was hard, calculating. A muscle in his jaw twitched as he jerked his head in agreement. “Fine.”

“You’ll need to be more specific.”

“You may cross my lands, twice, without any issue from anyone who calls my circle their own. In exchange, you will not tell my brother about my slumber root. There.” He glared down his nose at me. “Satisfied?”

“More than you can possibly imagine, your highness.”

Suspicion crept into his features. Rightly so. He’d just made a grievous error.

I turned and strode out of our little alcove, but didn’t make it far before I was intercepted by another prince. Envy’s mask was off now, too, and his green eyes practically glowed as he glanced behind me. “Well played, Shadow Witch. One stone, two princes.”

“Are you drunk already?”

“Not on spirits.” He flashed the smile that showed his dimple. “I’ve come to collect you, guest of honor. It’s time for you to feed us your biggest fear. And I cannot tell you how hungry I suddenly am.”





THIRTY-ONE


I caught sight of Fauna in the crowd; her brown skin had paled considerably beneath her mask. My friend looked around, as if trying to find a way she could distract the assembly and stop this nightmare before it began. Anir stood beside her, his expression radiating enough anger to be worthy of his adopted House of Sin.

He seemed poised to grab the blade I knew was hidden under his evening attire and fight his way to my side. His hard gaze promised anyone who tried stopping him would suffer his fury. He and Fauna both knew there was no getting out of this, but they did not have to like it, or make it easy on the royals. Despite the abundance of worry coursing through me, their show of friendship bolstered my spirits.

I pushed away from Envy’s proffered arm and glanced around, searching for Wrath. I needed his familiar scowl to calm my nerves. I rolled up onto my tiptoes, looking past shoulders and heads for the demon prince’s imposing figure. Of course, he went missing again.

I didn’t see Lust or Greed in the crowd, either. And Sloth must be in attendance—there had been seven princes in wolf masks earlier—but he was also noticeably absent. Or lounging somewhere. Perhaps there was a gaming room that they’d retired to. Part of me wanted to dash around the castle until I located them. Which was only stalling the inevitable. Maybe it was a blessing that all seven princes would not be privy to my greatest fear.

Pride slipped out from the alcove where we’d struck our bargain and sauntered over to a column, leaving me to face this trial on my own. Not that I was surprised.

“Come.” Envy didn’t bother controlling the excitement in his voice. “Allow me to introduce you to the master of ceremonies.”

I followed him through the parting crowd, pulse pounding with each step we took closer to a dais that had been brought in. A blue-skinned demon with red eyes waited, wicked dagger in hand. It was a miracle my heart hadn’t thrashed out of my body. I held each side of my beaded skirts as I walked up the stairs to stand beside the demon. He nodded once, then lifted the blade above his head, showing off the runes carved into it, the crowd going uproarious at the sight.

“Without further ado, if there are no objections, we will release the biggest fear from our guest.” The master of ceremonies held out a hand to me. “Lady Emilia. If you will be so kind as to offer your wrist. I must take a bit of blood for the magic to work.”

Panic thrummed in each of my cells. I could barely see past the little white spots floating across my vision as I slowly lifted my arm. All our lives Nonna Maria wanted us to keep our blood from our enemies. And here I stood, offering it freely. To a blade etched with magical runes that would steal my secrets.

I held my arm steady, fighting the urge to yank it back and flee.

To his credit, the master of ceremonies did not radiate joy or triumph. He offered a sympathetic look and whispered, “One tiny pinch and it will be over shortly.”

The blade felt like ice against my skin. Panic seized me. This was really happening. I squeezed my eyes shut, silently praying to the goddesses for this to—

“Stop.” The deep voice echoed. “I will be the one to sacrifice a secret of the heart.”

The metal disappeared from my skin at once. I opened my eyes, looking from the master of ceremonies to the crowd. As one, the audience turned, staring with open shock at the demon who’d spoken. I followed their stares until I found him.

Wrath stood with his arms crossed, his attention fixed on me.

“With all due respect, your majesty, you cannot substitute yourself…”

“I won the hunt. I am claiming it as my prize.”

The master of ceremonies shook his head as if carefully considering his phrasing. “I… I do not believe it can be completed without great cost to you.”

“I am well aware of the price.”

I watched in disbelief as Wrath made his way down the aisle and up the stairs of the dais. Was he afraid my biggest fear would have worse repercussions than revealing his truth? Wrath trained me to withstand demonic influence, but he’d never seemed concerned about this portion of the feast. Had he always known he’d stand in for me?

He was scheming, but I had no clue what his goal was.

Without taking his gaze from mine, he slipped out of his suit jacket and rolled back the sleeve of his left arm. At the sight of our matching tattoos, a murmur went up in the crowd. Apparently not everyone knew our betrothal had been forced.