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Vittoria led us back toward our childhood home. The flap of illusion that had peeled back was securely in place again, making the building look as it had my whole life. We walked up the stairs and entered through the front door, and what had once been a small living space now had cathedral ceilings and decadent furnishings. It smelled of honey and wildflowers.

On the far wall in the first chamber were shelves of books; another nook had a wall of jars with hearts. I averted my gaze and walked toward an altar set off to one side. Giant bowls of fire crackled to either side of it, the flames a beautiful, glittering black.

Vittoria snapped her fingers, and suddenly a werewolf appeared holding a lavender garment. The young woman looked to be in her midtwenties, and there was something familiar about the shade of her eyes and the shape of her face. She quickly averted her gaze and moved back. My twin motioned for me to step up onto the dais. “Put this on. Then lie on the altar with your arms relaxed at your sides and your legs straight out.”

Relaxing wasn’t something I thought I could achieve, but I gingerly took the item, which turned out to be a billowing gown, and quickly undressed and slipped it on.

It had two large swaths that tied over each shoulder and continued down the front. A silver rope tied it together at the waist, and two slits ran up to midthigh. The deep V of the front granted access to my spell-locked heart and had my mortal one beating furiously. I refused to think about how it would soon cease beating at all. A flash of calmness blew over me, almost as if propelled on a magical wind. All would be well. I glanced to the werewolf who’d brought the clothing and wondered if she’d somehow altered my mood. It was rare and covetable magic. The princes of Hell could influence sins, but to influence joy was something else entirely.

Letting that oddity go, I squared my shoulders and climbed onto the altar, lying as my twin had instructed. Vittoria stood over me, then surveyed the chamber where the lone shifter waited, standing guard, I realized.

“We’re not to be disturbed.” My sister glanced at me, her lavender eyes glowing as she called upon her power. “It will be over quickly.”

Before I had time to give in to my rising panic, Vittoria’s fingers lengthened and her claws punched through my chest. For a moment, I could hardly believe she’d done it.

Then I opened my mouth to scream, but nothing came out. My chestburned. Violently. It felt as if half a dozen knives had been set in a fire and then shoved into my body. That pain was so acute, so overwhelming, that I didn’t feel anything else. The hold on my mind, my memories, the whole spell-lock cracked like an egg, and everything came flooding back.

My life.

My House.

My power. In my mind’s eye I saw me and Wrath, making love and training and battling wits and wills. Another memory: my twin scheming with me in our throne room. I saw Sursea coming to us with her plan, her need for vengeance fueling my sin. Then I was in the garden and I saw the look on Wrath’s face right before everything was torn away.

The scream I couldn’t get out before ripped through me now, echoing in the temple. It was rage and torment given form. I heard shifters scatter from wherever they’d been hiding. And I screamed until the memories slowed.

Darkness swept in as quickly as the pain had, then I didn’t feel or think of anything at all.

Once the pain receded and the darkness faded, I lay as still as a statue, listening. Several rooms away I heard the swish of a skirt, the soft tread of slippers. Hushed voices. Closer there was a sharp intake of breath as if someone had awoken suddenly.

I kept my eyes closed as I adjusted to my new range of hearing. My sharper senses. One thing stood out immediately. My pulse did not pound. I inhaled deeply and slowly exhaled.

The lack of a heartbeat wasn’t as disorienting as I’d thought it would be. Though perhaps that was because I no longer felt fear the same way. I cracked an eye, surprised to see streaks of red and gold creeping in through the windows and under the door. Dawn had arrived. I must have been out longer than I’d thought.

I sat up and nearly launched myself across the room, my fully immortal body filled with incredible strength. I already knew no one was in the chamber with me, but I glanced around with new eyes. Vittoria had been right; it felt as if I’d been submerged below water and my head finally broke the surface. Colors were brighter, more intense. I could see individual threads on my gown. Dust motes glittered in a sliver of sunlight on the opposite end of the temple.

I felt full of energy, revitalized. I leapt onto the altar in one jump, then hurtled into the air, landing gracefully on the other side of the chamber. A strange, familiar feeling started in my center. In place of my heart, there was the steady thrumming of my power. It felt like coming home after being away for far too long.

“Fiat lux.”

Roses and wildflowers burst into flame around the entire chamber. The fire roared with fury, sparking my own rage and igniting it. This power, this was what made me one of the Feared. There was no ending to it, only my desire to keep it locked away that kept it caged. I thought of Nonna Maria. I recalled her lies. The hurt. And the flowers burned impossibly brighter. My head cocked to the side as a familiar sound caught my attention.

I recognized my sister’s footsteps before I turned to her. “Would you like to exact a little vengeance before I leave?”

Her lips slowly tugged upward. “It’s good to have you back, Fury.”

NINETEEN

Back in HouseWrath, I sensed a myriad of things at once. Servants bustling through the lower levels, demon soldiers running drills on some compound I’d yet to visit. A few angry members of the nobility arguing—their wrath sparking like little embers in my periphery.

What captured almost all my attention was my husband. His energy was like a raging inferno flanked by towers of ice. It was incredible. Like hisluccicareI’d seen, his magic was a multitoned black with specks of gold. Glittering and dangerous. Like him.

Wrath was still at the Pit—I felt the pulse of his ferocious power from a distance away and would recognize it anywhere. There was a slight pull to him, but our reunion had to wait. Though, if I could sense his magic, I had little doubt he could also sense mine. I wouldn’t have long before he came looking for his newly restored queen.

My focus was drawn to the Crone’s tower next, where I knew Fauna was still working and I headed there at once. Time moved differently in hell dimensions, so I wasn’t sure how long I’d been gone, but it couldn’t have been that long or Wrath would have started searching for me. Doing my best not to startle my friend, I knocked gently—or so I’d thought—and the door crashed open. “Fauna?”

My friend jolted at the noise and twisted to face the door.

“Emilia! Thank the devil you’re here, I found—” Fauna stood so abruptly her stool toppled over. She scanned my face—for presumably whatever familiar comfort she could find—and swallowed whatever she’d been about to say. “Your eyes…”


Tags: Kerri Maniscalco Kingdom of the Wicked Fantasy