Kingdom of the Cursed (Kingdom of the Wicked Book 2)
Kingdom of the Cursed: CHAPTER 35

I sunk onto the floor inside the magic tree and flipped through the spell book, the paper rustling like dried leaves as my fingers trembled. A note that hadn’t been there before fell out. I gingerly picked it up and read the carefully penned lines.

Some truths do not grant the freedom you seek. Once known you can’t ever go back.

Choose wisely.

—S.

Samael. Wrath. His note was eerily similar to the warning issued by the Crone, but for me, no matter what, there was no going back or moving forward until I granted my sister eternal rest and peace. I traced the S he’d signed the message with, his truth I could never again deny.

I wasn’t surprised Wrath had found the stolen grimoire. He was, after all, searching for a spell to restore his cursed wings. However, I was surprised that he’d left the spell book alone, even after deducing that I’d take it from his House of Sin.

He knew firsthand how truth could cut as much as it had the power to heal. I’d shown him that. He had proven through his actions that he wasn’t as evil as the world believed. He was a blade of justice and he cut down those who’d been condemned without emotion.

A soldier following orders, ruled by duty and honor.

And I’d been unable to tell him I saw that. Saw him. He was the balance of right and wrong. He was neither good nor evil; he simply existed, just as he’d once told me.

Candles flickered wildly, casting shadows around the darkened chamber. The Crone and Seven Sisters had disappeared, leaving me alone to my task.

I ignored the fear pressing in, stealing my breath. Maybe it was my brush with an actual goddess—something I hadn’t quite wrapped my mind around—or maybe it was this subterranean chamber, but I’d never been one to get squeamish over small spaces or being in cellars. I refused to start now. I was so close. So close to the truth that had evaded me all these months.

If all went well, in minutes, I’d finally know what had happened to my sister.

I paused. The Triple Moon Mirror might show me the moments leading up to my twin’s death. Or worse, I might witness her murder firsthand. It was one thing to come upon her brutalized body after the fact, but to watch it happen… I shuddered.

“Be brave.” I found the spell I’d marked a few nights before and exhaled. This was it. No matter what I saw now, I’d know who had taken Vittoria’s life. “Past, present, future, replace. Show me my biggest desire hidden deep within the universe’s mind.”

At first, like the summoning spell I’d used on Wrath, nothing happened. I stared at the hand mirror, willing the biggest desire of my heart to the forefront of my thoughts. I pictured my twin, and, for the first time in months, could imagine her crystal clear. I heard her carefree laughter, smelled her lavender and white sage scent, felt the strength of her love for me.

A bond so powerful death could not diminish it.

Light flickered in the mirror, followed by swirling dark clouds. It seemed as if a storm were brewing in the glass. Magic buzzed through the metal, startling me, but I held tight, unwilling to look away or drop the Triple Moon Mirror now that I had it.

The storm inside it persisted, but muffled voices now slipped in. My pulse pounded. I willed the storm blocking my view to subside, to grant me the chance to see my twin.

Slowly, as if the scene had been captured in a jar of honey and lazily tipped over, dripping into view, a room emerged. There were windows set inside a nook. Outside, snowcapped mountains towered above mist. It took a moment to place, but it looked like the chamber where Wrath held Antonio prisoner.

The mirror’s vantage point shifted farther back, allowing more of the space to be seen.

I blinked as the oversized leather chair was plainly visible. Along with the human who’d murdered my twin. He was in the middle of a conversation, but whoever he spoke to was just out of view. Then I heard the other voice. And my heart stuttered.

“… my bidding well.”

Vittoria. Unshed tears stung my eyes when I realized it must be an illusion. Antonio hadn’t been speaking to a person—someone probably sent an enchanted skull to him. I had no idea how this one sounded so close to the real thing, especially when mine had sounded slightly wrong, but I desperately wanted it to speak again. No matter that the voice was clipped and edged in steel, it was the closest I’d come to hearing my twin in months.

I silently begged the voice to speak again.

Prayers answered, a woman strode over to Antonio and perched on the arm of his chair. She wore lavender gauze that seemed to blow on some magical breeze. Dark hair cascaded in loose curls down her back, and her bronze skin practically glowed. She looked like a painting of a Roman deity sprung to life. And yet there was something so familiar about her casual pose.

“Holy goddesses above. It cannot be.”

The woman looked strikingly like my twin. At least in profile. She turned as if sensing a magical presence in the room that didn’t belong. Lavender eyes, not rich brown, glared at me. Or whatever she sensed about the mirror. Her face was familiar and foreign at once.

It was Vittoria, but not.

I could barely process what I was seeing. My mind churned slowly through my emotions as I sorted through the image being shown to me. Vittoria was in House Wrath. With Antonio. She must have come here before she was killed. But Wrath swore he didn’t know her… and I would not doubt him again. Which meant it was not an image from the past. It was either the present or the future. And somehow, someway, my sister was alive. At least in this realm.

Tears threatened again, but I held them back, unwilling to miss a single second of the image playing out in the magical glass. The Vittoria in the mirror cocked her head, still staring toward whatever magic my presence created. I thought of her diary, of how she’d claimed she could hear magical objects speaking to her. Perhaps the Triple Moon Mirror was chatting now.

“Vittoria!” I shouted, waving my hands. “Can you hear me?”

“It’s time.” She tore her gaze from my direction and fixed her attention on Antonio. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.” I couldn’t see Antonio’s face, but he sounded breathless. As if he knew he was in the presence of something awe-inspiring. “I vow my life to your cause, my angel.”

Vittoria patted his head, then stood. “Give me one moment, then we’ll be off.”

“No!” I screamed. If this was the present, I could not lose my twin again. I almost dropped the mirror in my haste to get to the tower dungeon. I managed to place it in my satchel and dashed up the stairs, racing around and around until I reached the tree trunk door.

I darted into the night, racing through the Sin Corridor, tripping over the roots and rocks I hadn’t noticed the first time. Bloodied and bruised, I pushed harder and faster. I had to get to House Wrath. In far less time than should have been possible, I burst through the doors, doubling over as I caught my breath. Anir’s dagger was at my throat.

“Devil’s blood, Emilia. I thought…” He sheathed his blade and offered a hand. “Are you hurt? Wrath couldn’t detect you anywhere.”

“Where is he?”

“You’re bleeding.”

I could not care less. “Where is he?”

“He just left for the Sin Corridor. It’s the only place he can’t sense you.”

“I need to get to the dungeon tower. Get Wrath. Now.”

Anir shouted something, perhaps a curse, or a plea, but I didn’t dare stop. I had no way of knowing if the scene I’d been shown was the present or future. But one way or another, my sister was here or would be here, and I didn’t know whether to laugh or scream or collapse in tears.

I raced up the stairs, up and up as I climbed with energy and strength that seemed to be endless. Without stopping to collect myself, I wrenched the door open. Wrath said he had magicked it to my hand, and he hadn’t lied.

“Antonio?” I called out, fully stepping into the room. A taper smoked from the chairside table, as if it had just been blown out or had been snuffed by fast movement. My hand moved to my dagger. The room was not large, only big enough to house his bed, the small reading nook, and a curtained screen to offer privacy as he washed and used a chamber pot. I stared at the screen. There was no sound coming from behind it. “Hello?”

A prickle of unease slid down my spine as I slowly made my way to the screen and whatever lay hidden beyond. I yanked the curtain back and blew out a frustrated breath.

There, set next to a pitcher and washbasin, was another enchanted skull. My heartbeat quickened as I drew near, waiting, body tensed, to hear its message. It came to life just as I closed the distance with my final step.

“Come to the Shifting Isles, sister. We have much to discuss about breaking the remainder of our curse. Answers await your arrival. Until then. Stand back.”

I didn’t think, I leapt aside and the skull exploded into glittering dust, leaving nothing but the chilling message ringing in my ears. I stood there, chest heaving as the impossible became real. My sister was alive.

Vittoria lived.

I choked on a mad giggle that bubbled up from my throat. Vittoria could come home. We could go back to Nonna, and our parents. We could cook and laugh and teach our own daughters how to cook in Sea & Vine. Life would resume. We could still have the future we’d dreamed of. Together. And if somehow she couldn’t return to the mortal world, I would stay here. No matter what, we would be reunited soon. She’d been here. I’d missed her by minutes, seconds.

Lighthearted relief slowly descended into something darker as my shock wore off. Vittoria had been here, so close, and yet she’d taken Antonio and vanished without seeing me.

She left an enchanted skull with a message. As if she’d been too busy to bother with a simple visit to my chambers. Or wait until I arrived here. Tonight. She had to have sensed me. And she’d still left. As if I didn’t matter at all and my shattered heart meant even less.

I’d spent months lost in rage and vengeance.

Months of sorrow and fury.

Of mourning.

All the while, my twin was alive. Well. Better than well if her new, powerful magic was any indication. My twin had been enchanting skulls. Leaving them like morbid clues. When all she had to do was sneak into my room. Instead she toyed with me. Tried breaking me.

And she’d almost turned me into a monster.

I inhaled deeply and exhaled. The air like fire in my lungs. Wrath’s lessons on controlling my emotions incinerated in the face of my fury. My twin was alive. She’d come for Antonio. And it hadn’t been to attack him or make him pay for what he’d done.

On the contrary, he looked as if he’d received a blessing. He called her his angel. As in, the angel of death he’d mentioned the night in the monastery. I thought he’d been referencing Wrath or another prince of Hell. If he never killed Vittoria, then that meant he’d never been influenced by a demon prince. I had no proof yet, but I had new suspicions.

Deception. Lies. Betrayal.

All the words I’d associated with the Wicked now belonged to Vittoria. She’d orchestrated everything—a playwright crafting her own twisted tale, doling out roles for unsuspecting players, myself included. And I was through with being a pawn in her game.

No matter that her end goal was to break the curse, she had no right to lie to me. To keep me in the dark. I was no longer cloaked in shadows. I was burning with rage.

My hands stung. I glanced down, noticing the tiny cuts in my palms where my nails dug in so hard I’d broken the skin. I exhaled, banking the fires of anger at last.

I had a new plan, a new direction. I would gladly pay my beloved sister a visit. And I could not help it if she soon regretted extending her invitation. It was high time Vittoria met the furious, unforgiving witch she’d helped to create.

I turned on my heel and headed for the door. The Shifting Isles beckoned. But there was one final thing that needed to be done before I left House Wrath.

I strode through the corridors, mind whirling with strategies and plans. I no longer cared who had started playing these games. Witches. The Wicked. My twin. And all the cursed and feared creatures in between. If my sister was alive that threw into question the murders that came before and after hers. Were any of the witches actually dead, or was it part of some larger conspiracy to accumulate more power or transfer it? I had no idea what else the true “killers” would gain by committing fake murders, unless they were hoping to incite a war between realms, and not simply break the curse.

And a war was something I refused to let happen. Regardless of my twin’s scheme, I would protect my family and the mortal world at all costs.

Each step closer to Wrath’s chambers brought a greater sense of clarity. My choice was made. And the only regret I had was how long it took me to arrive here.

I kicked in his door and glanced around. The receiving room was empty, the fire banked. Wrath hadn’t seen his suite all night. He must have started searching for me shortly after I’d left. Even after I doubted him, doubted the goodness in his heart. His soul. He’d searched for me.

Removing my cloak, I walked toward his bedchamber, grabbed a bottle of demonberry wine from a rack, and continued onto his balcony. He could sense my general whereabouts here through our tattoo. I had little doubt he’d replace me soon enough. I popped the cork and sipped the wine directly from the bottle, staring out at the lake. At this hour the crimson waters looked like a pool of spilled blood. It was an omen of sorts. And for once, I welcomed it.

Glittering black smoke wafted toward me on a breeze as the king of demons prowled closer, his voice a low rumble of thunder at my ear.

“Emilia.”

I turned slowly and took him in. Danger lurked in his gaze, along with his namesake sin. He wasn’t the only one who was angry, but my wrath was not directed at him; he was the only one who grounded me. I dove into the source of my magic, releasing all of the rage and fury I’d been bottling up since I saw my twin. My power answered my call immediately.

I held up my hands, attention riveted to Wrath’s face as a burning flower appeared in each of my palms. There was no flash of surprise. No widening of his eyes or tightening of his mouth. I released my grip on my power, allowing it to burn out. The flowers charred to black, the tiny dying rose-gold embers the only specks of color before the breeze carried the ashes away.

Wrath knew I possessed this talent. This power. And he’d never let on. I wanted to know what else he knew about me, what other secrets I’d yet to uncover about my past.

The Crone told me to solve the mystery of myself. And I intended to do just that.

Perhaps, no matter what Celestia had said in her tower chamber, I really was the First Witch, and this block on my memories was the price I’d paid for using dark magic. That would certainly explain why Nonna warned me away from certain spells.

I gritted my teeth, recalling the way she’d make us bless our amulets during each full moon. Did she know the truth of who I was? She had to. And her betrayal carved deep.

Maybe—unlike what Nonna claimed about our amulets hiding us from the devil—my cornicello, his wings, had actually been used to keep my power in check, not his. And if that were true, then perhaps Wrath took my amulet not only for his benefit but for mine. My power had definitely shifted since its removal.

I exhaled, focusing on the question I wanted an answer to first.

“How long have you known I can summon fire?” He pressed his lips together. I shook my head, laughing bitterly. “My twin is alive. Though I suspect you already know that, too.”

Emotion finally flickered in his eyes, but he remained silent, watchful. On guard. As if I was something to be feared. He wasn’t wrong.

“I want answers.”

I would not wait for my twin to give me her version of the truth when I saw her in the morning. I wanted to gather it myself. Starting now. I looked Wrath over. Once, he’d told me to study my enemies closely. To look for any sign of the truth in their mannerisms. He wasn’t speaking. And it was unusual.

“Judging by your silence I imagine this is the curse at play again. We’re skirting around things it does not want me to learn.” A gleam of approval entered his gaze. Gone in the next instant. “If I accept the marriage bond, I have the strangest feeling some of that will change. The curse may not fully break that way, but I believe there are some bonds more powerful than dark magic. And there is nothing more dangerous than love, is there? People fight for it. They die for it. They commit acts of war and treason and all manner of sin in its name.”

I would know. I’d been willing to do dreadful things to avenge my twin.

Something resembling worry flashed in his eyes. “Feelings are not facts.”

“Interesting.”

My mouth curved seductively. Wrath had just lied. In the closest way he could.

Curse be damned, he still wanted me to wield my power of choice. To accept our bond without outside forces interfering in my free will. The prince of bargains was forfeiting a winning hand. And he was doing it for me. Always for me.

“Tell me about our amulets, your wings. I want to know why Vittoria and I really wore them. Was it to keep our power on a leash, or was it as my family claimed: a way to hide them from you?”

“I have no proof, but I believe both are true. I’ve also been looking into the possibility that they may have been spelled to ensure you forget certain things.”

“You had me wear them in the Crescent Shallows to test that.” I inhaled as he nodded in confirmation. At least his expression was one of guilt.

“I’d hoped the truth properties of the shallows would remove any blocks on your mind. I did not anticipate the extreme reaction it caused.”

“Do they really lock the gates of Hell?”

“Yes.”

Internally I breathed a sigh of relief. At least not everything I’d been told was a lie.

“I have one final question for now, your highness.” I placed my hand on his chest, feeling the steady thumping beneath my touch. His attention dropped to that tiny connection before he dragged it back to mine. “Pretend there’s no curse. No magical betrothal. Or romantic urges created by our bond. Would you choose me? To reign beside you. To be your queen. Your friend. Your confidant. Your lover.”

“Emilia…”

“You tricked me into a blood bargain with you before I crossed into the underworld. Do you recall what you said?” I swore his heart stuttered a beat before furiously picking up its pace. “You told me to never make a bargain with the devil. ‘What’s his is his.’”

“It was a figure of speech. A blood bargain does not equate possession.”

“Perhaps not technically.” My hand fell away and I stepped back. “You did it as another means of protecting me. In case I didn’t want to accept our bond. You claimed no other prince of Hell would be stupid enough to challenge you. It was your secret way of offering me a way out of any contract with another demon House. The blood pact I made with Pride included. Am I wrong?”

“No.”

“Don’t answer now, but I want to know if what you said then stands.”

“You’ll have to be more specific. I said a great many things.”

“If I am still yours.”

He stilled. My words hung between us, heavy and lingering. Like his gaze.

“If I am, I would tell you that you are mine. That I am choosing you as my husband. There is no one I’d rather confront my demons with, no soul I’d travel through Hell with. And no one else I want standing beside me when I go to the Shifting Isles tomorrow.”

He was quiet for a long moment, seeming to gauge my sincerity and weigh it against his own feelings. “And if I don’t require time to think it over?”

Thank the goddess.

I exhaled quietly and moved from the balcony into his bedchamber, tugging the strings of my tunic loose as I passed by him. I glanced over my shoulder, noting with satisfaction the desire darkening his gaze as I slipped the shirt from my body and let it drop to the floor.

“Then I suggest coming to bed, your majesty.”