Kingdom of the Cursed (Kingdom of the Wicked, #2) (72)

I moved closer, entranced and a little horrified by it. The serpent’s body actually hid most of her private anatomy. A wicked protector of sorts. Its scales were carved with expert care, almost fooling one into thinking it had been real and turned to stone.

I circled the giant statue. Her hair, long and flowing, had little crescent moon–shaped flowers carved into the unbound locks. Near the bottom of her spine, a goddess symbol had been etched horizontally. I reached over to pet the serpent when a low, keening howl grumbled up from deep below the earth. I jerked back and connected with a wall of warm flesh.

Before fear registered or I had time to react, an arm with steel-like muscle snaked around my waist, tugging me close. A sharp dagger pressed into my side. I stilled, breathing as shallowly as possible. My assailant leaned in, their breath warm against my icy skin. Hair on the back of my neck rose.

“Hello, little thief.”

Envy.

I shoved my fear into the deepest part of my mind, far from where he could detect just how much he’d rattled me. “Attacking a member of House Wrath is foolish. And coming here without an invitation is doubly unwise. Even for you, your highness.”

“Stealing from a prince is punishable by death.” His low chuckle lacked any trace of humor. “But that’s not why I’m here, Shadow Witch.”

He dropped the dagger and released me so quickly I stumbled forward. I squared my shoulders and faced him, my expression cold and hard. “If you’ve come for the book of spells, your trip was wasted. It belongs to me.”

I’d meant to say it belonged to witches, but it felt like the truth when the words escaped my lips. Envy blinked slowly.

“Bold and brazen. Perhaps you’ve found those claws after all.” His attention slid over me and then to the statue. “Have you noticed anything odd lately? Perhaps something strange about your magic?”

“No.”

He flashed a quick grin. “We all sense lies, Emilia. Allow me to be blunt. You stole from me, but I stole right back from you. Tit for tat.”

“Nothing has been stolen from me.”

“There was a curse on the spell book. Anyone who removed it from my collection would lose something vital to them in return.”

Cold dread sluiced through my veins. I had not been able to dip into my source of magic since I’d come back from his royal house. “You’re lying.”

“Am I? Perhaps you ought to cast a truth spell on me.”

He sheathed his dagger and gave me another slow once-over as he waited. Even though I suspected it would be futile, I concentrated on that well of Source, trying to dip into it and draw enough magic to wipe him—and his smug expression—from this circle.

There was nothing but an impossibly thick wall where I’d once felt that slumbering beast. He sneered, as if the sight of me disgusted him.

“I didn’t think so. You, my dear, are no more than a mortal now.”

He turned and started walking away.

I marched after him, fuming. “You had no right to curse me.”

“And you had even less right to steal. I’d say we’re even.”

I thought of my plans to spell the wine at the Feast of the Wolf. I needed my powers back. That was nonnegotiable. “Fine. I’ll return the book. Wait here while I go get it.”

Envy stuck his hands in his pockets, considering the offer. “I find this is a much more interesting turn of events. Keep the book. I’d much rather watch your plans crumble.”

“I’m willing to strike a bargain.”

“Too bad you didn’t think of that before. I might have been open to an agreement that would benefit us both. Now? Now I’ll enjoy watching fate run its course.”

I clamped my teeth together to keep from either cursing him, or begging him to reconsider. A faint wail drifted up from the bowels of the earth again. Goose bumps swiftly rose along my body. I turned to stare at the statue.

“I’d not become too curious about that, pet.”

“I told you not to call me—”

I faced Envy again, only to discover he was already gone. A wisp of glittering green and black smoke wafting around was the only indication he’d been there at all. I glanced back at the statue and listened to the cries of whatever was being tortured deep beneath it. It was mournful, hopeless. Brokenhearted. A sound that pierced through my emotional armor.

I wondered what was damned enough for Wrath to bury below his wicked House in the underworld, alone and miserable. Then I realized it must be more horrid than I could even fathom to receive that punishment. Wrath was a blade of justice, swift, unemotional, and brutal.

But he wasn’t cruel. Whatever was making that terrible cry…

I did not want to encounter it alone without magic. I hurried from the garden, the sounds of suffering still ringing in my ears long after I’d slipped between my sheets that night.





The next day, Fauna excitedly danced in place outside my door. Her knocks were as fast and light as a hummingbird’s wings. I opened the door and grinned. Her slippered feet moved as swiftly as she spun us around. “Invitations for the feast are arriving this week!”

My smile vanished. After Wrath’s devilish training session, I did not share her excitement. Honestly, I hadn’t been thrilled by the feast the first time he had told me about it, either. But now… now I found my gaze straying to the clock, jumping at every sound in the corridor. I was nowhere near being ready to withstand a demon prince’s influence. Not to mention, being without my magic was another obstacle I hadn’t anticipated.