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Add to favorite 🔔 Kingdom of the Feared - Kerri Maniscalco Kingdom of the Wicked, #3

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“That’s peculiar, isn’t it?”

“Not really. To admit to losing something, even a small amount of power, would signal vulnerability. They would not risk their courts. I only knew what Pride lost because he understood how it felt when I lost you. He set his sin aside in the hopes if I found you, Lucia wouldn’t be far behind.”

Now that the curse was no longer an issue, I wished I could set everything right, but some choices weren’t mine to make. Claudia had made her decision before the curse was activated. And while Vittoria and I had played a terrible game House Vengeance had been contracted for, my friend had realized she wasn’t happy before our scheme. Cracks had appeared in her relationship long before her mother broke them apart. Sometimes loving someone was shown by letting them go, not clutching them closer. Though I couldn’t help but wonder what the ending of their story might have been if they’d just talked.

“Are you all right?” Wrath pulled me across the tub and hoisted me onto his lap. “Is it the loss of your magic?”

“A little.” I rubbed his shoulders, noting that, unlike me, he was no longer tense. “I also want to help your brothers. I hate that the mess is only partly cleaned. There’s much left to do.”

Wrath brushed his knuckles against my jaw. “You have helped them.”

“I know breaking the curse has helped to some extent, but the rest is up to them, isn’t it?”

“Standing back so someone can walk the rest of their path alone is often the most difficult part, especially when you care.” Wrath leaned forward, pressing a tender kiss to my heart. When he looked at me again, his expression was contemplative. “Do you want to become queen?”

His question caught me off guard. I thought it over.

“I want to stand beside you. And while there are some unappealing aspects of ruling, shouldering the burden, becoming a united force, it’s something I do want.” I smiled sadly. “I may not wield the magic of Fury anymore, but I still rule over it. I am happy to join your House. It feels right.”

Wrath didn’t say anything for a moment; he simply studied me in that intense way that indicated he was seeing far more than I wished to share.

My attention dropped to that pale ink on his collarbone, Acta non verba. He might not believe I wanted to be queen, but perhaps I might show him otherwise. My lips curved. “Do we need to send the invitations this moment, or do we have a little more time?”

Wrath’s gaze turned molten as he sensed my true question. He hardened beneath me, devious demon. “What did you have in mind, my lady?”

“As if you don’t already know.” I guided him into me, laughing as he cursed softly, and rode him until we both swore the old gods and new.


TWENTY-EIGHT

“I’ll take over from here.” For a moment, Pride’s mask of a proud, debauched royal slipped, revealing the calculating demon hidden underneath the courtly charm. Gone were most traces of his sin; the magic and ego were shed as easily as one removed a winter coat. The demon with us in this room had earned the scar that cut through his lip, and he seemed proud of it.

Anir stepped aside as requested but didn’t leave his post beside Sursea. Wrath hadn’t given the order, and Anir’s loyalty to his king and court was unmatched. I stood next to my husband, watching Pride slowly take in the frigid cell where the First Witch was kept.

Before his arrival, Wrath had told me this was the first time the Prince of Pride had encountered his mother-in-law since his wife’s disappearance. Now, the mood in the subterranean dungeon was tense—as if a match had been lit near an open container of kerosene, an inferno of death ready to ignite at any moment.

Pride’s one request was for no one to speak of what occurred in this chamber tonight. His attention finally landed on Sursea and remained there, cold and fathomless.

Had she not still been frozen, he might have unleashed the monster I sensed prowling under his skin, scratching to get out. He had no audience, save for us and a handful of his closest guards. No courtiers to show off for. No lords or ladies to witness him indulging in a different sin. That was exactly why he’d requested silence from everyone in attendance here. Pride was going to give in to his anger, his wrath.

Pride rolled his shirtsleeves past his elbows and cocked his head to one side, his expression turning thunderous, savage, the longer he stared at the frozen witch. His hand flexed, ready to strike out if Sursea showed any signs of life. His jaw hardened as he flicked his attention to the guards still flanking the witch. They stared straight ahead, but their hands tightened on their weapons.

“Honestly, you called me here,” Pride said, annoyed as he turned to Wrath. “Are you going to let me take the prisoner or must I kiss your ass and beg?”

Wrath held his brother’s gaze for a long moment, then inclined his head. “Don’t forget your ultimate goal. Sursea will do her best to force your hand, should you thaw her.”

“Any other words of wisdom, dear brother?”

“Your pride fucked you royally before. Keep that in mind for whatever game you play next. Figure out what truly matters, and plan your attack accordingly.”

Wrath jerked his chin, dismissing both his brother and the guards waiting in the shadows. Demons wearing the colors of House Pride stepped into the cell, sharp ice picks in hand. They’d come prepared to carry away the frozen statue that was our biggest enemy. Good. Having her out of our House and under someone else’s care was a relief. If I never saw her again, it would be too soon. With any luck, they’d keep her frozen for eternity.

Wrath held his arm out to me before facing his brother. “You have two hours before the coronation begins. I don’t suggest arriving late.”

I stood before the massive floor-length mirror in my newly appointed dressing room, twisting to better admire the coronation gown the royal dressmaker had created. It was not simply a garment, but a masterpiece. Instead of paints and brushes, the dressmaker’s medium was tulle, thin gold chains, faceted onyx beads, and sparkling diamonds. It was as heavy as armor, but there was a delicateness to it that leather and chain mail could not hope to possess.

My fingers trailed over the detailed work. In the design, bits of each House of Sin were represented, plus an ode to my affinity for flowers. It was the perfect marriage of the demons and me, signaling my unbiased rule over all seven courts. Eight if everything went according to plan. I glanced to the clock on the little side table, then to the arched window. Twilight was the normal state of this realm, but the sky had darkened. Night had fully arrived.

Fauna bustled into the room, tears glistening in her eyes when she saw me. She stopped short and pressed a hand to her mouth. “You look like the goddess you are, Lady Emilia.”

I stopped fretting and pulled her in for a hug. “Thank you for coming.”

“Of course, my lady.” Fauna squeezed me once more before stepping back and dabbing at the corners of her eyes. “What did you need?”

I strode over to the small table covered in jewels—all options left for me to choose from for tonight—and pulled out the sealed letter I’d hidden there. “Will you deliver this to my sister?”

Fauna’s attention flew to the wax seal. A downward dagger with burning flowers. The symbol of House Vengeance. A similar tattoo marked my husband’s leg, his way of never forgetting the eighth House of Sin that had upended his world in more ways than one.

Instead of looking fearful as I’d been worrying over, Fauna’s lips quirked up on one side. It was easy to forget she was part of this House for a reason. War and battle and inspiring anger didn’t make her anxious in the least. She thrived on it. “Princes Envy, Greed, and Pride are going to have quite a surprise this evening.”

I released a nervous laugh. “Wrath, too.”

Fauna’s grin widened. “You two are well matched, indeed. His majesty is lucky to have found you again. And that you were willing to put up with him for eternity.”

“Fauna! Did you just mock your king?” I feigned shock. “If I didn’t already like you, that would have sealed our friendship.” A friendship that I realized I’d been failing spectacularly. “How are things progressing with Anir?”

Are sens