Kingdom of the Cursed (Kingdom of the Wicked, #2) (55)

Marble statues lined each side of the gilded corridor, but I didn’t give them more than a cursory glance. I did not want to inadvertently succumb to feelings of jealousy over the bounty of beautiful art. Wrath hadn’t adjusted the pressure of his grip, but I sensed the tension pouring off him the farther we went into his brother’s stronghold.

The next landing broke off into two wings and we were ushered to the right.

The servant stopped before a door near the end and bowed. “The lady’s suite. Her trunk is already inside. Will you be needing anything else?” Wrath shook his head. The servant exhaled and turned his attention back to me. “Ring the bell if you need anything.”

Before Wrath could scare the demon, I gave him a warm smile. “Thank you.”

The servant froze for a moment, then nodded once and quickly disappeared down the corridor we’d just come from. Wrath watched him go before turning back to me. “The staff doesn’t expect to be thanked for doing their job.”

“Everyone who’s working or providing service that’s a comfort ought to be thanked.”

Wrath looked me over, his expression inscrutable, before he swept through the chambers I’d been appointed. His attention landed on every nook, cranny, and speck of dust as if he expected some nefarious creature to spring forth and attack.

Or maybe he was put off by all of the green and silver tones.

I trailed after him, trying to keep my lips from curving upward as he peered beneath the canopy bed, then yanked back the curtains and rattled the windows. He barged into my bathing chamber, hand on the hilt of his dagger, his expression fierce. prince of Hell or personal guard. It was hard to distinguish who he was as he tended to my suite.

I bit my lip to keep from laughing as he plucked up a pitcher, shook it a little, and brought it close to his nose. I doubted Envy slipped poison into it, but Wrath was not taking any chances.

He caught my eye and turned that fierce glare on me. “Do you find me amusing?”

“At the moment? Very.”

He tossed the pitcher aside and stalked toward me, his movements slow and deliberate. Here was the predator he barely kept hidden under all the fine clothing. His civilized appearance was simply a mask, a way to hide the truth of his nature. The hunter was now on full display and his new target was set firmly in his sights.

A thrill shot through me before my smile vanished and I scrambled back. He didn’t stop his pursuit until the backs of my thighs brushed the bed. He paused then, giving me a chance to escape to the other side. But I didn’t move. I stayed where I was.

He took one more step, then halted, offering one final choice before he erased the distance. I could either sit down, or remain standing. Sitting was trouble. Standing was worse. It put us entirely too close. I held my ground.

Wrath now stood near enough that with each of my breaths, my chest brushed against his. Truth be told, I felt anything but afraid. I wet my lips and his gaze darkened.

“What about now?” He angled his face down, his mouth hovering right above mine. “Are you still amused, my lady?”

My pulse raced faster. Judging from the smoldering look in his eyes, he knew perfectly well how I was feeling at the moment. I took a steadying breath and slowly exhaled.

“If I decide to return, do I need to send a request to your House?”

A muscle flickered in his jaw, indicating he’d picked up on my choice of words and wasn’t pleased by the possibility I wouldn’t return. Instead of arguing, or issuing any sort of arrogant command, Wrath stepped back and took my hand in his, carefully turning it over. He lifted my palm to his lips, pressed a chaste kiss to it, then closed my fingers around it. Heat shot up my arm, warmed my blood, and my body hummed with need. His unexpected tenderness was not helping matters between us become less murky.

“My home is your home, Emilia. You do not need an invitation. When you decide to return, I will send an escort.” He motioned to the bed. “Sit. I have something to give you.”

My attention shot to his mouth and I quickly wrenched it back up, fighting the realm’s sinful magic, our persistent marriage bond, and Wrath’s general appeal.

Now was not the time to think about kissing.

He didn’t say anything, or smirk, but I almost sensed his pleasure as I worked through my emotions. Deciding he wasn’t likely to ravish me here, I perched on the edge of the mattress.

Wrath slowly went to his knees, then lifted my left foot and settled it onto his taut thigh. I went to draw it back, but he held it in place. We both knew I could break his grip if I really wanted to, so I stilled.

“If we decide to consummate our marriage, it will not be in my brother’s home, for mere moments. You deserve better than that.” He waited for me to relax, as if that were possible after that statement, then began sliding my skirt up. He paused near my bare calf, his gaze locked on to mine. “Trust me.”

“Says the prince of lies.”

He took the insult in stride. I thought of his tattoo, how actions were more precious to him than words. Trust was something earned, but in order to gain that, I’d need to allow him a place to start. One of us had to take that first step.

I nodded for him to continue and he seemed rooted in place before breaking the spell. Wrath gripped my skirts in his fists and dragged them past my knee and paused with them mid-thigh. Not once did he take his attention from my face, nor did he allow his bare skin to brush across mine. He also made sure that only my left leg was exposed.