Kingdom of the Cursed (Kingdom of the Wicked Book 2)
Kingdom of the Cursed: CHAPTER 31

I caught sight of Fauna in the crowd; her brown skin had paled considerably beneath her mask. My friend looked around, as if trying to replace a way she could distract the assembly and stop this nightmare before it began. Anir stood beside her, his expression radiating enough anger to be worthy of his adopted House of Sin.

He seemed poised to grab the blade I knew was hidden under his evening attire and fight his way to my side. His hard gaze promised anyone who tried stopping him would suffer his fury. He and Fauna both knew there was no getting out of this, but they did not have to like it, or make it easy on the royals. Despite the abundance of worry coursing through me, their show of friendship bolstered my spirits.

I pushed away from Envy’s proffered arm and glanced around, searching for Wrath. I needed his familiar scowl to calm my nerves. I rolled up onto my tiptoes, looking past shoulders and heads for the demon prince’s imposing figure. Of course, he went missing again.

I didn’t see Lust or Greed in the crowd, either. And Sloth must be in attendance—there had been seven princes in wolf masks earlier—but he was also noticeably absent. Or lounging somewhere. Perhaps there was a gaming room that they’d retired to. Part of me wanted to dash around the castle until I located them. Which was only stalling the inevitable. Maybe it was a blessing that all seven princes would not be privy to my greatest fear.

Pride slipped out from the alcove where we’d struck our bargain and sauntered over to a column, leaving me to face this trial on my own. Not that I was surprised.

“Come.” Envy didn’t bother controlling the excitement in his voice. “Allow me to introduce you to the master of ceremonies.”

I followed him through the parting crowd, pulse pounding with each step we took closer to a dais that had been brought in. A blue-skinned demon with red eyes waited, wicked dagger in hand. It was a miracle my heart hadn’t thrashed out of my body. I held each side of my beaded skirts as I walked up the stairs to stand beside the demon. He nodded once, then lifted the blade above his head, showing off the runes carved into it, the crowd going uproarious at the sight.

“Without further ado, if there are no objections, we will release the biggest fear from our guest.” The master of ceremonies held out a hand to me. “Lady Emilia. If you will be so kind as to offer your wrist. I must take a bit of blood for the magic to work.”

Panic thrummed in each of my cells. I could barely see past the little white spots floating across my vision as I slowly lifted my arm. All our lives Nonna Maria wanted us to keep our blood from our enemies. And here I stood, offering it freely. To a blade etched with magical runes that would steal my secrets.

I held my arm steady, fighting the urge to yank it back and flee.

To his credit, the master of ceremonies did not radiate joy or triumph. He offered a sympathetic look and whispered, “One tiny pinch and it will be over shortly.”

The blade felt like ice against my skin. Panic seized me. This was really happening. I squeezed my eyes shut, silently praying to the goddesses for this to—

“Stop.” The deep voice echoed. “I will be the one to sacrifice a secret of the heart.”

The metal disappeared from my skin at once. I opened my eyes, looking from the master of ceremonies to the crowd. As one, the audience turned, staring with open shock at the demon who’d spoken. I followed their stares until I found him.

Wrath stood with his arms crossed, his attention fixed on me.

“With all due respect, your majesty, you cannot substitute yourself…”

“I won the hunt. I am claiming it as my prize.”

The master of ceremonies shook his head as if carefully considering his phrasing. “I… I do not believe it can be completed without great cost to you.”

“I am well aware of the price.”

I watched in disbelief as Wrath made his way down the aisle and up the stairs of the dais. Was he afraid my biggest fear would have worse repercussions than revealing his truth? Wrath trained me to withstand demonic influence, but he’d never seemed concerned about this portion of the feast. Had he always known he’d stand in for me?

He was scheming, but I had no clue what his goal was.

Without taking his gaze from mine, he slipped out of his suit jacket and rolled back the sleeve of his left arm. At the sight of our matching tattoos, a murmur went up in the crowd. Apparently not everyone knew our betrothal had been forced.

For them, it was one thing to woo a prince, and apparently another to magically bind him into matrimony. Perhaps they worried his unexpected show of heroics was brought on by a magic spell. The master of ceremonies stared openmouthed at the demon prince. I doubted this prince had ever offered something like this before. Even I couldn’t believe it. Wrath, the demon who valued his secrets more than anyone I knew, was offering one up.

For me. In front of every enemy court. It was not a declaration of love, but it was close.

Wrath finally tore his attention from me. “Get the dagger.”

“I…” The master of ceremonies fumbled for the blade, clearly uncomfortable with carving into one of the rulers of Hell. “Before we begin, there is still the matter of needing your brothers to vote on this being your prize.”

“Oh, for shit’s sake. Enough.” Pride shot up from where he’d been slumped against a column, his silver eyes narrowing in warning. “This is incredibly dull. Surely there is some other more diverting prize to be claimed? I replace secrets tiresome.” He stared at his brother in challenge. “Perhaps this year’s sacrifice will come in the form of a forbidden tryst. I’m sure we can replace a volunteer willing to bed the guest of honor. Then my brother may pick a different prize.”

The assembled demons subtly looked from Wrath to their king, their breath held.

“No.”

Wrath’s tone was cold enough to rival ice. He glanced to me, probably to see if I’d been intrigued by the idea and he’d spoken too quickly. I imagined if I said yes, he’d stand back and not utter a word of protest if I chose to bed Pride. No matter how much he’d hate it.

And hate it he would. Wrath’s mask of indifference had slipped and he hadn’t put it back.

“There seems to be a misunderstanding.” The devil’s smile was sinful as Wrath cast a wary glance his way. Pride was practically preening, pleased he’d laid the perfect bait and Wrath had fallen into his true trap. “I did not mean to suggest I would be offering services. As Lady Emilia is your intended, I believe you ought to be the one to bed her, brother.”

I stiffened. If Wrath and I shared a bed…

… we’d be that much closer to completing our marriage bond. And Pride knew it. He looked undisturbed by the idea; if anything, he seemed eager for me to marry his brother. Which indicated he never cared about the contract I signed and I’d never been his intended. So what in the seven hells was really going on? If the devil’s curse had been broken by Vittoria’s and my birth, I still couldn’t understand why the demons had lied about the brides.

Envy, who’d been glowering at the interruption, suddenly perked up.

Wrath looked to me then, his expression blank except for the slight tightness around his mouth. It was the only indication he wasn’t happy with the turn of events.

Whatever he saw in my face had his tone going hard when he addressed his brother again. “Pick another option or stand back and let’s vote to complete the ceremony.”

“I told you,” Pride drawled, “I’ve grown quite bored of secrets. It’s time for a new tradition. I’m sure our host is willing to oblige.”

Pride nodded to Gluttony. The prince of this circle rubbed his hands together. “Indeed. I do love breaking the rules. You have two choices. Either bed each other in one of the glass chambers here.” He stood aside and with a grand flourish, yanked a gold cord that held draperies back. Inside, an unoccupied candlelit bedroom softly glowed. “Or—”

“Your royal suite,” I offered, stunning everyone, myself most of all.

“My suite?” Wrath stared at me as I nodded. “We do not have to change the rules, Emilia. If I want to claim the fear as my prize, I will.”

“Only if you gain enough votes.” Gluttony’s grin widened as Wrath’s temper rumbled through the ballroom. “You may have won the hunt, but this is no longer your prize to claim. We’re substituting the guest of honor’s sacrifice. And she’s made her decision. You may choose the royal suite, the glass room, or, best yet, you may stay right here. Take her over the dais, or against the column. Then we can be sure you complete the task.”

“Unless you’d like to stand aside and have someone else volunteer,” Envy offered, his too-innocent smile indicating he was using the sin he ruled over to taunt his brother. “My vote would be on Gluttony. He is the host.”

“No.”

Wrath’s tone indicated there was no chance in this circle of Hell that he would turn this into a spectator sport and would go to war if his brothers tried any maneuvering.

Gluttony took it all in stride and I wondered if his mood ever soured or if he was permanently happy. “A tryst in your royal suite it is.” He clapped twice. “Master of ceremonies. Complete the ritual.”

Wrath paced around the quiet royal suite, a mighty predator caged. It did not matter that his cage was a well-appointed bedroom suite with chilled champagne, chocolate-covered fruits, crystal chandeliers, and silk sheets. And a fiancée who craved his touch.

Even if he hadn’t offered one of his secrets to allow me to keep mine, I would want him. It was time to stop lying to myself. To stop pretending that it was only the seductive magic of this world and our bond creating this attraction. I wanted him. It was his imposing figure I looked for in each crowded room. His protection I welcomed and his sin I aligned best with.

Regardless of our past and the circumstances that brought us here, to this moment, together, I wanted this night of passion with him.

The prince did not appear to feel the same. He prowled over to the fireplace and leaned against the mantel, watching as the flames turned silver and writhed before him. He did not speak on our walk here, nor did he look at me once we’d entered his suite.

Without turning to meet my stare, he said, “It’s not too late for me to give up a secret instead. We do not have to do this. I vowed you would have a choice. I stand by my word. My brothers will not vote against me, no matter what they said earlier.”

“I did choose.”

He finally turned, his expression thunderous. “Choosing between two less-than-ideal options is not a choice.”

My lips curved upward. “Will bedding you be less than ideal?”

“Do not make light of the situation.”

“I’m not.” My voice lost the teasing edge. “I’ve never wanted to give up a fear or secret. I cannot say the same about desiring you.”

His focus slid from my eyes to my mouth. “This is not the same.”

“Is it the most romantic proposition? There’s no denying it isn’t. However, I cannot say I’m displeased. As you’re an expert at sensing emotions and lies, I should think you know that. Therefore, I’m left to believe you’re upset because you feel as if your choice has been stolen.” A different thought occurred. “Or perhaps you don’t want to bed me.”

“Is that what you believe?”

“If you visited someone else last night and do not want to be with me, I understand. We can go back downstairs and I’ll complete the fear ceremony. You do not owe me anything.”

Wrath stalked across the room, and I held my ground. He gently set his hands on my hips and pulled me against him. A little thrill shot through me where our bodies connected. Even through his trousers and my beaded gown, I could feel his truth pressed against me.

“You see?” His voice was rough, deep. It scraped against some inner part of me, making me want to lean into him more. “It is not a matter of wanting you, Emilia.”

“Then what is it?”

“Call it selfish. But I do not want there to be any outside forces driving you into my arms.” He tilted my face up, his lips hovering above mine. “When you decide to come to my bedchamber, I want you to know whose sheets you’re climbing between. I want you to call out my name.”

“I know who you are.”

“Do you?” His lips lightly trailed across my skin, almost touching the sensitive area of my neck, but not quite, as he brought his mouth to my ear. “I should like to hear you say it.”

“Your brothers only said ‘tryst.’” I abruptly changed the subject. “They did not specify that we needed to…”

“To?” He leaned back, his mouth twisting up on one side as he waited. The devil knew exactly what I meant. And he’d feign confusion until I said it.

“Fuck. Or fornicate. Though I’ve only heard the first word in this circle, repeated like a wicked prayer when I left the pleasure garden last night.”

His laughter was loud and lovely. I wished I could stuff the crass word back into my stupid mouth as my cheeks pinked and I silently cursed them and the demon.

He brushed his knuckles across my jaw, his expression filled with warmth.

“No, I suppose they did not specify whether we had to fornicate.” His eyes darkened to a molten gold. “What would you have me do instead, my lady? This?”

I didn’t have time to answer. He trailed little love bites along the column of my throat. I didn’t even attempt to rein in the sigh that escaped me as his tongue flicked over my pulse point.

“Tell me what you desire and it will be yours.”

I closed my eyes and leaned into his caress. An image of the lovers spread out on the table in the entryway during our arrival crossed my mind. Wrath’s mouth moved along my shoulder, his kisses hot and distracting the closer they drew to my décolletage.

“I want…”

He stopped long enough to draw back and look into my eyes. “Yes?”

“… you to take off my gown.”

Nimble fingers began undoing the buttons along the side of my dress. Unlike his assistance during our trek through the Sin Corridor, he did not move swiftly. He took his time, as if he knew precisely how each button coming undone was driving me wild with want. Each accidental graze of his fingers on my skin, each hitch of my breath… I was already close to combusting and my clothes hadn’t even come off.

He slipped the straps from one shoulder, trailing open-mouthed kisses as he went. Then the other strap slid off, his tongue and teeth following the path. He carefully tugged the top down, halting only when he’d freed my breasts.

“You are so godsdamn beautiful.” He looked like a man who’d been offered the finest meal money could purchase after nearly starving. But instead of feasting, he planned to enjoy every bite, savoring it. One thumb slowly passed over my nipple, causing it to tighten with pleasure. Heat pooled low in my belly. “What else would you like, my lady?”

“Pleasure. Seduction.” I gathered up my courage. “I want you to stay. All night. With me. And if you even think of bowing afterward and leaving like you did last time you touched me, I will hunt you down and make you regret it.”

“Threaten me again.”

His raw tone indicated he liked it very much. “Twisted heathen.”

“Only the best for you.”

He took possession of my mouth with his. His kiss dominated, owned. I was only too happy to submit. For a moment. I ran my tongue over his bottom lip, sighing as he took advantage and swept his into my mouth. Conquering, seducing. Just as I’d requested.

I pulled him in closer, tighter, nearer. I missed this. Missed him. The way he felt, the sound of his breath catching as he touched me, unleashing his desires and giving in to our connection. His clever fingers cupped my breasts, fondling with maddeningly light caresses that left me desiring more. My gown remained wrapped around my waist. I wanted it off. I wanted his bare skin on mine, his hands free to explore every inch of my body.

I tugged him through the little sitting chamber toward the bedroom, wanting to feel the weight of him pressing me into the mattress. In this, he allowed me to lead, never breaking from his slow exploration of my mouth. He followed me down onto the bed, slowly pulling my gown the rest of the way off. I lifted my hips, helping to shimmy it over them as he tossed it aside.

His jacket and shirt hit the ground next. The only thing left between us were my scandalously thin undergarments and his trousers.

Wrath eyed the ribbons at my sides, looking eager to unwrap the present they offered. And, goddess curse me, I wanted him to tear them to shreds. A slow, triumphant smile spread across his face as he probably sensed my arousal.

He fitted himself between my thighs and bent forward, tugging the ribbons with his teeth. I squirmed beneath him, unsure exactly what it was I wanted him to do next, but knowing his current position was very tantalizing.

He halted his movements. “Is this all right?”

“Yes.” I cupped his face and caressed his cheek. “Please, don’t stop.”

It was the permission he’d been waiting for. Without delay, he finished the task he’d started. Once my undergarments were gone, he admired me for a long moment, his focus searing with its intensity. I fought the urge to close my legs or cover myself.

As if he’d plucked that fear from my head, he glanced at me sharply. “Don’t ever hide yourself from me. Unless you want me to stop, or I’m not pleasuring you the way you like. You are beautiful. And I want nothing more than to do this,” he dragged a finger down the center of my body and I almost saw stars. “With my tongue.”

He gazed deep into my eyes, making sure I saw the truth in his, then he brought his mouth to me. The first stroke of his tongue was a shock of pleasure, electrifying my whole system. I arched up from the bed, body tingling with anticipation of the next touch.

Wrath hooked his arms around my legs and lowered his mouth once more. This time he held me in place, angling my hips up to allow for the most pleasure. Blood rushed through my head. Oh, goddess, every touch was sweet torture. Just when I thought it couldn’t feel any better, he plunged a finger inside me, his mouth moving harder against me.

I writhed beneath him, hands searching for something to grasp, desperate to ground myself in the swirling storm of pleasure lifting me up and away. I gripped the sheets as his openmouthed kisses continued in that intimate place, his fingers pumping in time with each beat of my heart. I was coming undone, chasing that line of fire streaking through me.

My fingers dove into his soft hair, my breath coming in shallow bursts, my pulse pounding through every glorious inch of my body. I was so close.

Wrath’s strokes turned demanding, the demon of war commanding my body to obey his wish and shatter against his mouth. Because he willed it. Desired it.

I rolled my hips forward and he growled in approval, the sound and vibration of it nearly unleashing me. Before I could call out his name, he moved up my body, pressing his own arousal against me, his mouth crashing into mine. He rocked his hips, the force gloriously rough as our bodies slammed together. He withdrew and moved against me again. And again.

I dug my nails into his shoulders and greedily met his movements with my own.

Each thrust pushed me closer to that edge. The hard length of him sliding against me created friction that heightened my pleasure. His cursed trousers were still on, still preventing us from fully connecting, but it did not stop me from finally shattering beneath his massive body.

With a groan so powerful it damn near shook the bed, Wrath followed me over the edge.