Kingdom of the Cursed (Kingdom of the Wicked, #2) (89)

“You’re looking for information on the First Witch.”

“I’m interested in my history. She is part of that.”

His expression darkened. It was not quite thunderous, but certainly stormy. “Lie.”

“What I may be searching for is none of your concern.”

“Everything in this castle is my concern. You, especially.”

“I do not press or pry into your plans. I expect the same courtesy.”

“Even if I’ve come to offer assistance?”

“After our last ‘lesson,’ I was under the impression you wished for me to take matters into my own hands from now on. Quite literally.”

Wrath’s attention drifted along my silhouette. He looked as if he were mentally replaying our weapons room tryst, dragging my gown up my thighs, touching and caressing me as if my pleasure was his own. When he brought his gaze back to mine, there was no heat or hint of the emotion that had just claimed him. He was remote, unfeeling. A wall was slowly being built between us. I couldn’t tell if it was relief gnawing at the pit of my stomach, or something else.

“We leave for Gluttony’s royal House in three nights. Send word to me if you’d like to train before then.”

He turned to leave and, devil curse me, I called out, “Fine. Meet me in the weapons room at midnight. We’ll have one final lesson before the real games begin.”





I arrived in the weapons room nearly a half an hour ahead of schedule. I wanted to set the tone of our lesson and with each strike of the ticking clock, my pulse raced faster. I glanced at my reflection in a particularly shiny shield hung on the wall, relieved that I still looked impeccable on the outside, no matter the chaotic state of my insides.

I shook my jitters out and moved to the center of the room.

At precisely midnight, Wrath stepped into the chamber and halted near the door. It closed with a snick that reminded me of a blade sliding free of its sheath. A fitting sound, given the battle that was about to be launched between us.

Wrath took in my gown—a black off-the-shoulder bodice covered in pale beaded flowers and vines with frothy dark champagne skirts that split on one side a little past my knee.

His focus paused on my footwear. I’d had the shoes specially designed for this dress and was fairly confident the demon prince liked them almost as much as I did.

They were heeled shoes that had a glittering black snake that wound from my ankle to my thigh. The serpent’s tongue flicked out but was semi-covered by my dress.

If Wrath wanted a full visual, he would need to push my skirts out of the way. The shoes were inspired in part by the statue in the gardens.

“Tonight we’ll—”

“—we’ll work on pride.” I smiled, noting that my deep berry lip stain captured his attention. I slowly spun in place. “I had this designed for our lesson and I’m quite happy with the results. It’s the first time I’ve created something entirely from my imagination.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“I know.” I winked and Wrath actually chuckled. “It’s perfection.”

“I see your pride is already primed and ready for the lesson.” His eyes flashed with something dark and dangerous. “So let’s begin.”

“Do your worst, your highness. I’m ready.”

This time the magic was like a tiny bead rolling between my shoulders, slipping down my spine, pleasant and enticing. I almost arched into it, remembering at the last moment to shove it away, to focus on creating a barrier between the demonic influence and me.

I inhaled deeply, my chest swelling with elation. I was resisting Wrath’s influence, and I was hardly breaking a sweat. Battling away pride was by far the easiest thing I’d done yet.

I gave him a cocky grin from where he stood half in the shadows. He hadn’t taken another step into the room; he remained by the door, looking ready to bolt. It was about time he felt unsteady. Whenever he was near lately I felt as if my world had tilted wildly off its axis.

“You’ll have to try harder. I’ve gotten quite good at resisting you.”

“Have you?” Amusement glinted in his eyes. “Sounds as if you’re a little prideful.”

I lifted a shoulder and dropped it casually. “Not prideful. Only honest. You’ve been a decent enough teacher, but this student has surpassed the lessons. I accept my desires. I welcome any challenge. I have little fear of losing. I think your brothers ought to be worried.”

“Oh?”

“Of course. There is nothing more dangerous than a woman who owns who she is and apologizes to no one.” I gave him a slow once-over. “I believe I am powerful, therefore I am. Isn’t that the principle you live by? Well, I know I’m powerful. I know power comes from many sources and I now have many weapons in my arsenal, your highness. In fact, I can own you right now if I chose to. And you would be powerless for a change.”

“Cocksure. Boastful. An inflated sense of self-image.” Wrath checked each one off on his fingers. “You’re right. It doesn’t sound as if you’re under any prideful influence at all.”

“You know what else I believe? I believe you’d secretly like me to own you. At least in certain… areas.”

I moved with deliberate, even strides across the room, allowing my hips to sway. My skirt fluttered to the sides, showing off the snake winding up my leg.