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“It’s certainly an area to look into and either rule out or prove correct.” Wrath kissed my forehead, then got out of bed and pulled on a pair of pressed trousers. Something outside caught his attention, and he quietly swore as he strode onto the balcony.

Whatever exhaustion I’d felt vanished. I pushed the covers back and snagged a robe before joining him, stopping dead in my tracks. Glittering red stars were scattered across the sky, red as a blood-drenched omen. While we stood there silently watching them, they slowly formed a shape.

An anatomical heart, struck through the center with a dagger that had a skull at the top of its hilt. Blood dripped from the tip of the blade, or at least it appeared that way as crimson stars winked and spilled down the now pulsing symbol.Thump-thump. Thump-thump.It was beating, the pulse waves slowly raising the hair along my arms as they traveled across the realm.

It was a celestial heart. And it was clearly not a naturally occurring constellation.

“What is that?” I asked, my voice hushed.

“The immortal heart.” Wrath’s expression turned grim. The stars continued to pulse from their position in the sky, the red appearing like a gash in the universe. My own heart sped up. “It’s the symbol of the vampire court.”

Wrath dropped his attention to the courtyard below, scanning the moonlit grounds. I followed the path his attention traveled, looking for any sign of movement. A fresh blanket of snow had fallen, the crimson stars reflecting off it like drops of blood on the ground. The red splatters made it seem like a battle had already raged and soldiers had fallen.

I rubbed my arms. The night was quiet, but in no way was it peaceful. It felt like the shadows were watching, waiting. Trouble was near.

“An emissary will arrive soon.”

From the tone of Wrath’s voice and the way he kept surveying the castle grounds, it was not going to be a welcome visit.

In the weeks I’d been staying at House Wrath, I’d seen many impressive chambers—the libraries, guest suites, the training room, the garden, the Crescent Shallows, the dining hall, the circular tower where Celestia had brewed her potions and tonics, my bedroom suite and Wrath’s, among many other formal and informal rooms, terraces, and balconies—but I’d never stepped into Wrath’s throne room. It was a study of ferocious, gothic elegance.

Part of me wanted to drop to my knees, confess my sins like a devotee, or better yet, claim my favorite sin in front of the court forever. Though an audience would have to wait, the cathedral-like room with vaulted ceilings was empty for the moment, save for me and Wrath.

“It’s stunning,” I said, voice echoing lightly. We stood just inside the carved double doors, looking at the place where the devil ruled his kingdom. It suited Wrath. It was refined yet still contained an edge of wickedness. I waited for a spark of memory, but none came.

Black marble floors with pale gold veining, soaring arched ceilings with matching columns in a deep gray stone, and massive chandeliers with ebony gemstones glinted in the candlelight. Muted tones in floral designs were featured in stained glass windows. Which were placed at least twenty feet off the ground on either side of the room, allowing light to trickle in and break up the darkness. Torches set into serpent sconces were evenly spaced along the lower walls, the fire crackling as if to remind those who entered here that they were in the underworld.

Blasphemous though it may be, it reminded me of a church. Except in this house of worship, the demon of war was the only “heavenly” being who was prayed to.

Gleaming gold weapons decorated the walls, similar to Wrath’s training room. Shields, coats of armor, swords and daggers. Bows and arrows and curved blades that made me shiver from their wickedness. At the very back of the room, the widest arched window sat proudly above the throne. Taking up almost the entire wall, the stained glass design featured an unmistakable pair of outstretched black wings. I swallowed hard, realizing they must symbolize the wings that were stolen from Wrath. It must be torturous to have them memorialized like that.

I dropped my attention back to the first level. Just below the enormous window with black wings was a roaring fireplace. I’d never seen one quite so large—like the window, it took up almost the entire wall. A deep burgundy runner ran the length of the room, ending at the base of an ebony dais. The opaque gemstone looked like frozen smoke, forbidding yet beautiful. It was similar to, if not the very same, stone that I’d seen when we first entered this realm.

Atop the dais were two matching thrones. As the king of the underworld, I’d imagined his seat would be larger. Champagne bronze serpents curved around black leather, looking very much like the tattoo Wrath had inked onto his right arm. My heart skipped a beat when I spied vines with thorns that were elegantly twined around the serpent’s bodies.

Wrath slanted a look in my direction, his mouth curving in a hint of a smile despite the circumstances that brought us to this chamber so late at night. “You’re surprised.”

“You really mean for me to be queen. Not just your consort.”

He faced me fully, and I was struck by the power of his presence. The magnificence of his magic and the regal way he carried himself. With his ruby-tipped crown, flashing gold eyes, and his black suit tailored expertly to his frame, he was the dark king of many dreams and fantasies. Mine included. The devil grinned like he knew it, too. “You are my match in every way. Anything that’s mine belongs to you. Never forget that.”

The earnest way he said it, the way he reached for my hands and gripped them in his, it felt as if he were communicating so much more. I leaned toward him. “I—”

The double doors behind us burst open. Several demon maids rushed in, holding giant urns of black calla lilies and deep burgundy ranunculus. The soft, chiffonlike petals were some of my favorites. The maids rushed to the dais and artfully placed the urns, allowing the trumpet-shaped blossoms of the calla lilies and the burgundy ranunculus to cascade down the steps. Several more plants were brought in, though I couldn’t immediately place the small red berries of one.

“Oleander is an interesting choice, especially if you’re sending a message,” I said, then nodded toward the plant I hadn’t identified yet. “But what are those? I assume they’re also poisonous or lethal in some way.”

“Abrus precatorius.” Wrath’s tone hinted at amusement. “Rosary Pea. Vampires hate them. Not simply for their pious names, but because they can actually kill them. Some mortals figured it out, which is why you’ll often find them beaded onto rosaries. Though the jeweler must be extremely careful—one prick of the berry can cause death.”

“I thought vampires could only be killed with a stake?”

“A stake through the heart is lethal for most creatures, current company excluded.” Wrath gave me a sardonic look, knowing full well I was intimately aware a blade in the chest wouldn’t harm him. “Garlic is a nuisance, holy water does nothing from what I’ve gathered, but these berries?” He plucked one from a passing servant and pinched it between his thumb and forefinger. “These are one of the vampire’s most closely guarded secrets.”

“Your majesty!”

I turned at the familiar voice, pleased to see my friend Fauna hurrying into the throne room, looking resplendent in a deep copper gown with jewels sewn across the bodice. It felt like ages since I’d last seen her, though it had been only a couple of days.

Fauna had been my first friend in Wrath’s court, and while others seemed content to gossip about my arrival, she’d done her best to make me feel welcome. I don’t know how I would have gotten through those first few weeks without her friendship.


Tags: Kerri Maniscalco Kingdom of the Wicked Fantasy