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The world swayed with each of his steps, grew darker. It was suddenly an effort to stay awake. My skin felt oddly tight. Everything was too cold. Sleep would make all of that go away. And then I could dream. Of my sister. Of my life before I’d ever summoned a demon. And of the time I’d foolishly believed love and hate were nowhere close to being the same emotion.

“I hate you.” My words came out slower than they should have. “I hate you in the darkest of ways.”

“I’m well aware of that, too.”

“My future husband cannot see me like this.”

I felt more than saw him smile. “Knowing you, I’m sure he’ll see much worse.”

“Grazie.” Jerk. I nestled against his warmth and sighed, undermining my own demands to be set down. I’d only rest for a minute. “Do you think I’ll like him?”

Wrath’s steps never faltered, but he held me a little tighter. “Time will tell.”

I dozed off and jerked awake what I hoped was only a moment or two later. Between the darkness of the tunnel and his steady, rhythmic stride, it was difficult to stay alert. Nonsensical thoughts and memories crowded into my head and spilled from my lips. “You said you wouldn’t.”

“Wouldn’t what?”

The rumble of his voice vibrated in my chest. It was oddly comforting. I pressed my cheek against his heart, listening to it beat faster. Or maybe that was wishful thinking. His bare skin blazed against mine. Almost painfully so. “Take care of me. You said you wouldn’t…”

He didn’t respond. Not that I expected him to. He was not soft or kind. He was hard and rough and fueled by rage and fire. He understood battle and war and strategy. Friendship wasn’t any of those things. Especially one involving a witch. I was a mission to him, a promise he’d made to his brother, nothing more. That I understood, even if it stung deep down. I had my own goals, my own agenda. And I wouldn’t hesitate to destroy anyone who interfered with my plans.

Even him.

Sleep finally wrestled me into its embrace and I relaxed against Wrath’s body. Maybe he’d surprise me by sneaking us into House Pride through a secret entrance to avoid any nosy demons. I could only hope he’d grant me some mercy.

From somewhere far away, I could have sworn he whispered, “I lied.”

FOUR

“Is she dead?” It took a minute to place, but I recognized the voice. Anir. Wrath’s human second in command. The demon responded with an obscenity that sounded an awful lot like Of course not, you fucking idiot. “Can you blame me? She looks plenty dead. Maybe you should let fate run its course. No one will blame you if her heart stops. Not even—”

“Careful. I don’t recall asking your opinion.”

Calloused fingers poked at my throat, grabbed my wrist. I struggled to sit up but was strapped to something rock hard and unmoving. “Your majesty, we should alert the matron. I don’t think this is—”

“Get a mug of warm water and blankets. Now.”

My skin felt like someone had tossed me into a fire and held me there. Drinking something warm or putting on a blanket was the last thing I wanted to do. I thrashed in my chains and one of them broke free and smoothed my hair back. Arms, not chains. Wrath still held me against his body. I tried to open my eyes but couldn’t. He took a few steps and placed me carefully on a mattress. At least I hoped that’s what it was.

Which meant… my heart thundered. We must be at the devil’s castle now. Panic had me clawing at his arms as he tried to pull away. Despite my earlier bravado, I did not want to be alone with the king of demons. At least not like this. “N-no… no…”

“Don’t move too much, or your heart might stop.”

I sucked in a sharp, ragged breath. “Y-your bedside m-manner—”

“Is abominable? There’s a reason I’m not a healer. Complain later. You’ve got a mild case of hypothermia.” He gently disentangled himself from my death grip and drew back. I could have sworn he brushed his lips across my burning forehead before his weight fully lifted from the bed. When he spoke, his tone was hard enough to make me question if the kiss had been real. “Lay still.”

Fabric ripped. My eyes flew open as shock rippled through me. Wrath leaned over my body, tearing my frozen clothing down the center like it was no more substantial than a piece of parchment. Skirts, shirts, belt. A few more tugs and cool air blew across my scorched skin.

I almost groaned with pleasure as he pulled my damp clothes out from under me and tossed them away. I didn’t even care that I was naked in front of the demon. Again.

I wanted to claw my flesh off and submerge my body in a tub of ice. Which was odd considering I’d been freezing not long ago. My eyes drifted shut and no matter how hard I fought, I couldn’t reopen them. Odd images played across my mind. Memories blurred and broken flitted through a thick mist, a possible result of a dying brain. Or maybe it was visions of a future I’d never know, taunting me. Statues and flowers. Fire. Hearts in jars, a wall of skulls.

Nothing made sense.

“Emilia… stay with me.”

Wrath picked up my hand and gently massaged warmth into each of my fingers. If he was trying to keep me awake, it wasn’t working. A drowsy peace fell over me, and I relaxed under his touch, the memories and strange images fading. He moved his careful ministrations from my fingers to my wrist then slowly up my arm to my elbow, before tending to my other hand.


Tags: Kerri Maniscalco Kingdom of the Wicked Fantasy