I removed the animal skulls and flower clips from around the crown of my head, then ran the comb through my loose curls, trying desperately to slow my pulse. It was no use.
I set the comb down and returned to my bedchamber, pacing so quickly around the room I almost worked up a sweat, too wound up to attempt sleep. As appealing as shoving my feelings aside was, I needed to sort through some of the tangle before I left for Envy’s House.
Wrath was a handsome, unwed prince, and he was no doubt highly sought after by all eligible ladies of the nobility. He was a bit aloof at times, and arrogant, but he was also charming and flirtatious when he wished to be. He’d once even called himself “His Royal Highness of Undeniable Desire.” And, goddess curse him, I could see how that was true. If he set his attention on someone, I doubted they would resist his romantic pursuit for long.
He approached everything strategically and it would only be a matter of time before the object of his desire happily surrendered to his careful seduction. He’d certainly been a generous lover in the Crescent Shallows, focusing on my needs as if that gave him ultimate pleasure to do so. In fact, I imagined he had his pick of all-too-willing bed partners before I entered his world. Some vying for his throne and power, others solely interested in his body.
I abruptly stopped pacing as another thought occurred to me, one that pricked like the little spikes on a crab shell when we served those at our trattoria. I’d thought of it earlier, and now it seemed to taunt me with larger implications.
Wrath hadn’t professed love or affection, only that we were well suited enough. While it wasn’t the romantic moment of my dreams, there was truth in his statement.
I knew him enough to know he would never force me into anything or interfere with my free will, and at least I wouldn’t be tied to the devil. But I couldn’t stop myself from wondering if there was someone else he’d prefer to wed. Before I’d accidentally summoned him and betrothed us, it was possible there had been someone in his bed and his heart.
Someone he might be thinking of now. When we first met, he’d made it abundantly clear how much he hated witches. Even if his feelings for me were thawing, it might not ever be enough for him to truly love me. Would he keep a mistress if we completed our marriage bond?
I didn’t like the pinch of discomfort that came with those thoughts.
No matter how hard I tried to quiet my brain, I couldn’t stop thinking of our passionate encounter in the lagoon and then outside his bedchamber. His hands
on my body, my back pressed against the wall, his tongue claiming mine… in those moments he felt right.
But that didn’t mean he was. For a multitude of reasons. Passion and lust couldn’t erase the lack of trust between us or the secrets we both kept. A good relationship was built on a solid foundation of honesty, and I didn’t even know his true name.
Aside from the real possibility of Wrath never fully allowing himself to love me, I was unsure if I could ever fully allow myself to love him. Bed him, certainly. Marry, perhaps. But to let go of everything else and accept him as he was, with all of his secrets? I wasn’t as sure.
“Goddess help me.” This was disastrous.
I’d been willing to have a marriage of convenience with Pride. But only because it granted me access to his House and a better understanding of how his wife’s murder might tie in with Vittoria’s. Binding myself to Wrath… I was unsure how that would assist in my mission.
If anything, all I came up with were more complications.
I tossed myself across the bed and summoned Source. My magic responded almost instantly, happy to be used while I was otherwise distracted. I created a garden’s worth of rose-gold burning flowers and floated them up to the ceiling, my mind returning to the two princes currently occupying the majority of my thoughts.
I didn’t know the first thing about Pride, other than the fact he was the devil. Wrath I was starting to know a little better, and being near him sometimes made the ache in my chest lessen. He didn’t erase memories of my twin—no one could ever do that—but when he was around, I found a perverse sense of peace arguing with him.
I released the hold on my magic, the flowers of flame slowly burning out. I watched as the petals became blackened embers that floated to the floor, extinguishing before they touched the carpet. I sighed, too distraught to be thrilled over my most impressive use of magic yet. It wasn’t the marriage bond that bothered me; it was the realization that my family hadn’t managed to drag me from the depths of my grief, but the demon prince had.
Some days I hated him for it, but there was a larger part of me that was grateful for his unwillingness to tolerate my fire burning out. He’d poke and prod and taunt me until I wanted nothing more than to wrap my hands around his neck and squeeze. And it was far better to be angry rather than turn into a ghost of my former self from sadness and grief.
It had been a very long, restless night and this realm did nothing to ease my way as I cycled through emotions. Twice I’d gotten up, made it to the outer door, my hand hovering above the knob, then shook sense into myself and returned to bed.
I was here to find out the truth about my twin. The more I thought of Vittoria, the easier it became to distance myself from those other urges. And when those thoughts weren’t enough, I continued to delve into Source, creating a variety of flaming flowers in various sizes. I practiced extinguishing some flowers, while increasing the intensity of the flames on others.
When the gown arrived just before dawn, along with the olive branch ring Wrath had given me back in the mortal world, I’d been bleary-eyed opening the package, but pleased. It was solid black lace, with long fitted sleeves and a full skirt, but it wasn’t entirely modest. The sides were cut out from just under the upper part of my ribs to my waist.
Those open edges were lined with shimmering gold designs that reminded me of flowering vines. Snakes also twisted through the flora.
Temptation was what the dress should have been called if garments were given names.
Now, as we stepped into the dark emerald–colored antechamber outside Envy’s throne room, amidst a sea of waiting nobles clad in various shades of deep green silks and velvets, it was not lost on anyone that Wrath had chosen my clothing with greater purpose.
His perfectly tailored suit was the masculine version of my gown. Black jacket, black and gold waistcoat with that same floral and snake design, black shirt, and matching trousers. Gold rings glinted from his knuckles, looking more weaponlike than mere ornamentation. His crown was made of gold laurel leaf intertwined with glittering ebony serpents.
I wore no diadem or tiara, but Wrath had dressed me in his signature black and gold. It was his way of showing this court where I truly belonged. At his side.
Judging from the whispers and curious glances that kept sliding our way after the herald rushed in to prepare for our announcement, Wrath’s plan had worked.
Truthfully, I’d been onto his scheme the moment I took the gown out of its dark tissue wrapping. My prince was not as subtle as he imagined. Or maybe he hadn’t been aiming for subtlety at all. The last time he’d seen Envy, his brother had disemboweled him. Maybe this act of possession had more to do with whatever private feud was happening between them.