Kingdom of the Cursed (Kingdom of the Wicked Book 2)
Kingdom of the Cursed: CHAPTER 13

You are mine. Everything outside of those three words faded. My shock, denial, and utter confusion were simply gone. It was as if I’d stepped from Wrath’s library back into the nothingness of the void. My pulse pounded in every one of my cells. The phrase echoed softly, drummed against each of my nerves, embedded themselves into my heart.

It felt like the magic that bonded us fully came awake. Wrath’s admission somehow wrenched it from its slumber and gave it permission to stretch its arms wide.

This mighty warrior prince, brimming with immortal vitality and power, death and rage made flesh… suddenly, I was drawn into a vision.

Past or future or pure illusion crafted of this sinful world, I couldn’t discern. We were in Wrath’s bed, hundreds of candles flickering across the glossy surface of his silken sheets, his dark colored walls, and the sheen of sweat coating his bare chest.

I was astride the demon prince, my thighs spread wide to accommodate the breadth of him. He watched me with a primal sort of possession, his half-lidded gaze drinking in every inch of my body while my hips undulated, seeking pleasure but not fully. I teased us both by not quite closing the slight distance between our bodies.

He reached for me, but I pinned him to the mattress, nipping playfully at his mouth before losing myself in his slow kisses. Soon he was no longer content with being a spectator; his hands clasped on to my sides, guiding me down onto his fierce arousal. With a whispered word of endearment and a quick upward thrust, we were joined in all ways. For eternity.

I managed to draw in a deep, ragged breath, banishing the vision. Some denial slipped back in. “We are still betrothed.”

Wrath’s eyes momentarily glazed, as if he’d been in that seductive illusion with me and still felt the tremors of pleasure rocking through him. His cool tone did not match the heat lingering in his gaze. “Yes. I am to be your husband.”

“My husband. You, not Pride.”

“Emilia…”

“Please.”

I held up a hand to stall him. Something ancient rattled my bones. I ignored the feeling, instead focusing on the anger unfurling in fiery tendrils, replacing any lingering sense of shock or denial, and clearing my head. This could not be happening. It was a complication I could ill afford for several reasons; the largest being my vow to avenge my sister.

“You lied to me.”

He fell silent for a few moments, then said quietly, “Despite the less-than-ideal circumstances of our union, we are well suited. Enough.”

I stared at him, unblinking. With such a wildly romantic declaration, who needed love or passion? If I wasn’t marrying Pride to carry out my scheme, I was going to marry for love. “Well suited enough” was also grossly misrepresenting the situation. I still wished to strangle Wrath more often than I wished to kiss or bed him. I had a feeling he felt the same way. Which perhaps was an indication of being well suited enough. Ours would be an unholy union of fury.

“Your brother is aware of this?”

“Of course.”

The demon prince seemed braced for a violent outburst; his feet were subtly planted shoulder-width apart, his body angled forward. He deserved a good slap for keeping this from me, but I could hardly wrap my mind around his confession and the strange way his words—innocuous though they were—suddenly heated my blood.

My whole body hummed with awareness, almost preternaturally. I was aware of every one of his movements, from the slight shifting of his feet to his steady breath. My new awareness of him did not alleviate my anger. If anything, it only stoked it more.

New realizations clicked into place. If I was a member of House Wrath, other royal houses—such as Pride’s court—would never share gossip regarding their prince. Any hopes and plans I had of gaining information I needed about Pride’s first wife were ruined.

“This is madness.”

I had taken the chaos my world devolved into after Vittoria’s death and had created a tiny semblance of order by coming here. And I’d only accomplished that because of my vow to her.

Now… now my life was once again spinning out of control because of the Wicked.

Wrath in particular. My fury finally exploded.

“You keep telling me I have a choice. When does that actually happen? Certainly not when it comes to which demon House I choose. Or which prince I thought I was betrothed to. Let’s not forget my personal favorite, back in Palermo when I asked if you’d make me come here. To rule in Hell. You said you would never force me. Apparently tricking is a perfectly acceptable substitute. Congratulations.” I clapped slowly. “You truly know your way around bending the truth. I must admit, I’m impressed.”

He didn’t look relieved, but he did relax his stance, marginally. I saw the exact moment he recalled the night I was talking about, when I thought I’d broken our betrothal with a spell of un-making. He’d sworn he wouldn’t force me into a marriage or take me to the underworld. Apparently, more half-truths if not full lies.

“You still do. You do not have to complete our marriage.”

I pointed a finger in accusation at the summoning Mark.

“And what about this unbreakable bond? It doesn’t feel like a choice. I realize you had much to sacrifice, too, but at least you were aware of what you were deciding. Regardless, you should have told me before now. I had every right to know.”

“The Mark was the best alternative I could come up with at the time. And thanks to the venom, I didn’t have many other options to explore before it stopped your heart. I asked you to grant me permission to help that night. There was your choice. You betrothed us. I accepted.”

As if I needed a reminder of that grievous error. “Alternative to what?”

“To delay certain urges the acceptance creates.”

“Urges.”

My mouth shut with an audible click as understanding sank in. All of my lust-filled thoughts and feelings toward Wrath had slowly been intensifying. They’d been eroding my distrust and the betrayal I had felt. I’d thought it was only this realm, its tendency toward desire, fueling my emotions, nudging me toward that almost primal frenzy to bed him. But it wasn’t. It was also an ancient need to claim my husband. To secure our marriage.

Goddess above. Wrath was my intended.

I’d been fighting a battle on many fronts and hadn’t even known it. No wonder resisting temptation had been so hard. I’d been battling the bond, the realm, and its nudges for me to face my fears of owning my sexual desire without guilt or shame.

If I was being honest, the conflicted feelings had started well before we came to this world. When he’d been attacked by Envy and bled out before me, something had shifted then.

And prior to that, when I’d been under Lust’s spell, I’d wanted Wrath desperately. For a moment that night, he seemed to want to close the distance between us, too.

I snapped myself into the present. “Your acceptance of the betrothal creates desire?”

“Consummation, along with a traditional ceremony, complete the marriage bond.” He searched my face, probably seeing if I was about to hit him now. I wanted to. Tremendously. “You look…”

“Angry?” I raised my brows and canted my head. He was wise enough to know that the silence that followed was twice as dangerous as raising a hand.

“Create was a poor word choice. It encourages the completion of the bond. At some level, you have to already possess those feelings, or else there’d be nothing for the bond to encourage.”

“Has the realm ever been encouraging me, or is it only our bond?”

“Both.”

“And your summoning Mark does what, exactly?”

“Marking you subdues the marriage urges because it’s its own unbreakable link between us. If you were to think of it in terms of a body of water, it would be similar to a river that breaks into two smaller streams. Each diluting the other to an extent, until they rejoin.”

Which was why he’d brushed his knuckles across the Mark whenever we kissed; he’d been trying to dilute my urges. He also did that while I was under Lust’s influence at the bonfire. Which meant he’d been tamping it down for a while. And hadn’t bothered to tell me.

I don’t know why it stung so badly, but it did.

“What happens if I refuse to accept the marriage? Will I still want you in my bed?”

“The urges will remain, but they won’t ever force your hand, Emilia. That’s not the way the bond works. You will always have a choice. Just as you would with any other partner.”

“I always have a choice,” I scoffed. “Except if I want to marry the devil.”

Wrath stiffened. The words were out of my mouth before I’d given much thought to them. Or how they might impact the prince. In order for him to experience those urges, too, he must possess some level of feelings for me.

And that was… it was too complicated to sort through.

I knew it was unfair to blame him, especially since I was the one who’d originally trapped him in a betrothal, but I couldn’t help but cling to my fury. All of my plans were going up in flames. If I didn’t get to House Pride, I might never discover what really happened to my twin. The only reason I’d even signed that contract was to place myself in the viper’s nest and stop any more witches from being murdered.

Now I was in this realm and stuck in a situation that wouldn’t further my mission. I didn’t come here to replace love, or to become Princess of House Wrath. I came for vengeance. I came to be Queen. I was here to destroy the demon who’d killed Vittoria and save my family and island from further danger from invading demons. And Wrath was complicating my entire world.

“Why the secrecy?” I demanded. “If you didn’t want me to sign Pride’s contract you could have told me about this back in the cave that night. Why not ask me to align myself with your House? It makes no sense that you’d hide this from me.”

“Fiancée or not, you are free to join any House of Sin you wish. I won’t ever stand in your way. And I did not tell you because I didn’t want you to come here.”

“Why don’t you want me here?” He pressed his lips together. I wasn’t about to let him get away with that non-response answer again. “Tell me. Tell me this has something to do with the curse and not with another person you love. I need to understand why you keep some secrets and give up others.”

“I cannot. Be content with the answers you’ve gotten.”

I noticed his word choice. Cannot and will not were vastly different. I looked him over, but his expression gave nothing away. I knew he’d chosen those words with care.

“Is this why I can’t travel between the demon courts without an invitation? Because I am technically bound to your House?”

He nodded. “You would still need an escort through the realm since it’s dangerous to travel alone, and we’d need to have a delegation from each House meet at the border of our territories, but yes. As my intended you are seen as the future co-ruler of House Wrath. Therefore, it would be an act of aggression if you were to simply show up at another court without warning or permission.”

“What of the contract I signed with House Pride?”

“If we complete our marriage, it becomes void.”

“And if we don’t? What about the witch murders? Are they still happening?”

“No. They are not.”

“How is that possible? Your entire mission revolved around replaceing the devil a bride. Unless it was never truly about that…”

Wrath looked as if he wanted to say more but either couldn’t or wouldn’t. His growing silence solidified my earlier worry about the murders having nothing to do with the devil needing a bride to break his curse. Which meant the witches were killed for some reason I’d yet to uncover. Annoyance warred with anger as I glared at the prince of secrets.

“If you choose to do nothing,” he finally said, breaking the silence, “then it will eventually be sent to the Temple of Fate. A council of three will then convene on the matter. That path is ill-advised, but is your choice to make nonetheless.”

“Wonderful. The council will what? Decide then if I marry you or someone else?”

“They will decide the fate of us all.”

I regretted not accepting the drink he’d offered earlier. I rolled my head, trying to ease the mounting tension. There were way too many emotions fighting for dominance right now. Wrath walked over to where I stood and put the glass in my hand, then began circling the room.

“How did you know I wanted the drink? Can you sense my emotions that clearly, or is it an added bonus from our betrothal bond? Or maybe the summoning Mark. It’s hard to keep all of your tricks straight.”

“Your gaze darted to the glass, Emilia. I simply read your body language.”

I watched him pace, my mind spinning with each of his revolutions around the room. His actions were all starting to make sense. He hadn’t let me die from the elements because I was his future bride. It was also why he’d stayed with me in the Sin Corridor, though Anir said he shouldn’t have. Another memory came back to me. In Palermo, Anir had mentioned completing the marriage bond and securing his House, something about gaining full power. When he’d come to collect me in the cave, I’d noticed a shift in his power. It had felt infinite. Stronger.

Wrath may have some feelings or physical attraction for me, but, given his nature, I wondered if he’d acted partly out of self-preservation.

“Do your subjects know?”

“Yes. The whole realm is aware.”

Which was why he’d made such a public example of Lord Makaden. The noble hadn’t simply disobeyed a royal command; he’d challenged Wrath and insulted his soon-to-be wife. The same was true for the officer he’d brought the mountain down on; he’d threatened to kill the princess of House Wrath. If either of them harmed me, it would in turn diminish Wrath’s power to some degree. I knew precisely how much princes of Hell coveted power.

Enough to bind themselves to someone they may enjoy between their sheets on occasion, but would never truly love. For eternity.

Well suited enough.

The choice of words grated on me. He also hadn’t denied there was someone else in his life. Someone he’d chosen before I destroyed his world.

“I invited you to bed tonight.” My voice was low, but not meek. Wrath stopped pacing and his heavy gaze clashed with mine. My attention roved over his face. “Would you have told me any of this before we slept together?”

“No matter how tempting, I would not have consummated our marriage tonight. There are plenty of ways to give and receive pleasure that would not jeopardize your free will.”

“Is that the truth? Or just what you think I wish to hear?”

He stared at me, his jaw tightening. The temperature around us chilled a few degrees. I half-expected the castle’s foundation to shake. “What kind of monster do you believe me to be?”

I had no good answer. And until I did… I drew in a deep breath, thinking over my options. Wrath had mentioned a few of his brothers were interested in hosting me at their Houses. Perhaps it was time for a visit.

“I want you to escort me to House Envy in the morning. Will you send a note letting him know I accept his invitation?”

Wrath didn’t react for a long moment; he looked like he wasn’t sure if he’d heard me correctly. He stared so hard I started to worry he could see through flesh and bone straight into my soul. I kept my expression bland and forced thoughts of tranquility: collecting shells by the sea, laughing with my sister and Claudia, drinking wine and talking about simple things.

Anything to keep my emotions from betraying me.

He finally nodded. He wasn’t pleased, that much was obvious from the way he’d tensed up at the request, but he also wasn’t trying to stop or imprison me.

I was not his cosseted princess. Thus far, my choices remained my own.

“You’re certain that’s what you want? Even after what Envy did?”

“Yes.” I thought about my next request. “I also need a mending kit.”

“You don’t need to sew your own clothing anymore, Emilia. A seamstress can do that.”

“All the same, I’d like one for emergencies.”

“Very well. I’ll have one sent to your room and let my brother know tonight. Will that be all?”

“For now.”

“Come.” He offered his hand, his voice and expression both genial enough to make me wary as I stepped closer. I ignored the little spark that passed between us when his fingers closed around mine. If he felt it, too, he didn’t let on. “I’ll take you to your chamber to pack. We’ll leave for House Envy at first light.”