Kingdom of the Cursed (Kingdom of the Wicked, #2) (41)

I wanted to ask him more about the magic but found all logical thought had been stolen as I took in our new location. We stood on the dark, glittering shore of a lagoon. It was shaped like an enormous crescent moon, and the water was a milky, glacier blue.

Fog drifted lazily above its surface. I managed to tear my gaze away from the sparkling pool long enough to glance at the obsidian walls that surrounded us. This lake was subterranean.

“Where are we, exactly?”

“Below House Wrath.” He strolled down the shore a little way, then pointed out a stone arch. “The Lake of Fire feeds into these shallows from over there.”

I looked up, expecting to see more stone, and sucked in a quiet breath. Stone did indeed cover us, but someone had painted the phases of the moon across it, along with a smattering of stars. Breathtaking was hardly the most accurate description. Ethereal, maybe, did it more justice.

I went to stick my toes in the water when the demon prince carefully hauled me back. “No cloth of any kind can taint the water. You need to remove your gown or hold the skirt up.”

“Why?”

Wrath lifted a shoulder. “See those?”

I followed his gaze as it landed on a mammoth piece of driftwood. I leaned closer and squinted. “Is that… are those bones?”

I dragged my attention away from what remained of the unfortunate creature and focused on the prince at my side. The glint of amusement in his face was almost as sinful as he was. “Still want to go for a dip?”

“What happens if you bring the wine and glasses in?”

“I wouldn’t. Come,” he offered his hand. “I’ll take you back to your room. You can keep the wine. It will relax you just as well as the lagoon would have. You’ve got a large private bath of your own. That will have to suffice.”

Either he was worried about the lagoon revealing a truth he wanted to keep hidden, or he was convinced I’d change my mind and go back to bed. I gave him my own taunting smile as I deftly undid the enclosures on my gown. He watched as I slipped out of the silky red material, his throat bobbing a little as my lacy undergarments hit the ground next.

I took his ring off and set it on a smooth, flat rock. Then I straightened and held his gaze.

I stood bare before him, feeling anything but shy. I raised a brow. “Are you going to get undressed so we can swim, or are you planning on watching me all night?”





ELEVEN


Wrath’s clothes vanished, leaving him standing naked and proud.

Any hint of smugness I’d felt disappeared when his clothing did. Devil curse me, I tried and failed miserably to not feed his ego by openly admiring him.

Great artists might try to capture his likeness but would undoubtedly fail. There was a certain mastery about him that defied his true form from ever being cast in something as mundane as bronze or carved in marble.

My gaze drifted across his broad shoulders, down his sculpted chest, then slowly inched lower, over each ridge of his abdomen, across his hips and lower until I finally took in his…

I jerked my attention back to his face. He was very obviously attracted to me. Clearly the sinful magic that thrummed below the surface of this world affected him more than I’d imagined. Though given his comments at dinner and the way our kiss had turned hungry and full of primal need earlier, maybe it wasn’t so simple. For either of us.

My traitorous attention dropped again. I tried not to stare too long, but his left thigh had an interesting design inked onto it. Pointing downward, a dagger spanned from his hip to his knee. The blade looked like it had a close-up of roses on its surface, while geometric patterns were etched onto its hilt. Unlike his other metallic tattoos, this one had been done in grayscale.

I pulled my focus back to his eyes and waited, heart pounding, for him to drag his attention over every inch of my exposed skin. My nerves hummed with anticipation; it was the first time I’d disrobed in front of him without it being the result of something clinical needed to revive me from near-death. Wrath’s gaze remained fixed on mine as he offered me his hand, palm up. Something inside me deflated a bit.

I went to unhook the cornicello, but he shook his head. “That may stay. Along with the flowers and bones in your hair.”

Confused, I dropped the amulet and wound my fingers through his. Technically, since they were the devil’s horns, I supposed they didn’t count as something made. And the bones and flowers were also organic material, so hopefully Wrath was right and all would be well.

We walked to the lagoon’s edge and water lapped at my toes, warm and silky.

He watched me, waiting to see if I wanted to continue. I took another step and lavished in the way the water felt like a million tiny bubbles on my skin.

Once we were deep enough out, Wrath let go of my hand and bobbed under the water. He exploded up a moment later, whipping his head back and pelting me with droplets. His laugh was full and rich and his smile was one of the most genuine I’d ever seen from him. It made my heart stumble a bit. I dove under the water before he could see my expression.

When I broke the surface and pushed the tangle of wet hair from my face, I caught him staring. Unlike me, he didn’t attempt to hide what he was feeling now. I thought about the Wicked, about their sinful games. The stories of their kisses being addictive enough for a mortal to sell their soul for the chance at another. The danger in gaining their attention. I’d undeniably gained Wrath’s full attention. And the only danger I sensed was how powerful it made me feel.