Kingdom of the Cursed (Kingdom of the Wicked, #2) (83)

I held it at bay for another strained moment, then gulped down the goblet.

My head spun and my vision doubled. I swiped at my mouth, grinning like an idiot, and poured another drink. Wine sloshed from the goblet onto the floor. My silk slippers looked like I’d been traipsing through a murder scene, but I couldn’t care less.

The more he influenced me to drink, the more impossible it was becoming to concentrate on my free will. Which, through my drunken stupor, finally made sense.

His brothers could nudge me toward drinking, and in turn, a slow inebriation would make it nearly impossible to stave off their influence. The more out of control I became, the easier it would be for them to slip past my defenses. Wrath had a point after all.

He wasn’t just trying to have me fight off gluttony.

I pushed out of my seat and tripped my way over to the demon’s side of the table, the empty glass dangling from my fingertips. He’d had me dress in a long, extravagant silver gown made of silk. It was luxurious to the point of excess. I wore no undergarments and the material did not hide any part of my form. With the wine soaking through the front of the bodice, I might as well have been waltzing around naked. I doubted he’d planned for that.

Wrath hadn’t so much as dropped his gaze below my neckline. Ever the proper gentleman. At least when he wasn’t ripping out tongues or torturing would-be assassins to death.

Heavy strands of diamonds hung around my neck. There were so many in varying lengths, it felt as if I was carrying an extra five pounds around my throat. It was so excessive, even Envy would be appalled instead of jealous.

I leaned precariously over Wrath, my face close to his. I wanted to kiss him. Possibly break a bottle and stab him first. But then definitely kiss him.

“You’re getting me drunk on purpose.” I gave him what I thought was a saucy grin. “Naughty demon.”

“Being under the influence of alcohol or other substances will greatly reduce your ability to sense a prince of Hell’s magic. Especially Gluttony’s. He will push you to drink little by little until you lose control and he can take over.” His tone turned harsh. “You need to fight back.”

I was trying to pay attention to the lesson, but I was fascinated by the shape of his lips when he spoke. I reached over and touched them. He pressed them into a firm line.

“Emilia. Focus.”

“Oh, I promise I am. I am extremely focused at the moment. Enthralled. Or is it enchanted?” I drew my attention up. There were two of him, glowering. I blinked until only one annoyed demon remained. “Why haven’t you seduced me?”

It was difficult to be sure, but I thought he removed his influence.

“If you cannot battle through the haze of alcohol, then it’s best to avoid drinking anything at the feast. You may accept a toast, but only pretend to sip it.”

“You worry too much.” I smoothed the furrow between his brows. “Nonna says all of the steam from the kitchen will keep wrinkles away. Vittoria and I will remain ageless. Like you.”

“Considering you’re not human, I imagine there’s truth in that.”

“You never answered my question. About seduction.” I swayed a little on my feet. His lap looked comfortable enough. I plopped onto it. His body tensed, but he didn’t lift me. I internally grinned at that small victory. “Fauna said the whole court would like to know.”

“Lady Fauna talks too much. Perhaps I ought to insist she visit a distant relative.”

“Don’t take your foul mood out on her; she was only passing along gossip to me. And I’d like to know, too. Maybe I want you to seduce me now.” I leaned on his shoulder and rested my chin in my palm, gazing at him. Belatedly, I realized I must look like a mad person, staring the way I was in our current position. “You know, some believe avoidance is a sign of cowardice.”

“I’m aware of what you’re doing, and it won’t work.” His scowl deepened. “I am not seducing you because I currently do not wish to. It’s as simple as that.”

If he’d stuck me in the heart with a knife, it might hurt less.

I twisted around and pulled the plate of chocolate-covered berries to me. I added a dollop of whipped cream to them and speared one with a fork. I missed. The fork connected with the dish. A berry catapulted across the table. Goddess-cursed things.

It was definitely their tiny, round forms, and not my current state of inebriation.

I took aim and squinted at the plate. Berries were swimming. They were no match for me. I aimed again and another berry went flying. I swore roundly.

Wrath’s deep exhale tickled my bare shoulder as he reached around and took the fork from me. He stabbed a chocolate-covered berry and swirled it into the whipped cream.

He paused with the fork to my mouth.

“If you so much as breathe one word of this, I vow revenge, my lady.”

“Very well. Though I doubt I’ll even remember this extreme act of chivalry in the morning.”

I leaned against his shoulder, head thrown back, and waited for him to feed me the dessert. With only a fraction of hesitation, he did. I swore the food tasted sweeter. I felt like a pampered Roman goddess as he fed me one decadent berry at a time.

“Mmm. I can hardly recall a word of what we were saying already.”

“Liar.” He set the fork down and brought his mouth close to my ear, suddenly taking the lobe between his teeth. Heat spread through me and my toes curled from the sensation. I wasn’t sure if Wrath had done it, but any inebriation I felt vanished. “Then again, so am I. In a sense.”