Only cold fury.
Which was much worse. A hot temper eventually burned out, but the ice that coated the prince’s features was glacial. Centuries would pass and his anger would remain fresh.
We exited through a hidden panel at the top of the stairs and a slight tingling sensation passed over me. Anir didn’t speak again until we stood outside the door to my suite.
Even there his sharp gaze swept around the empty corridor as if he expected trouble to materialize. I did not share his concern. My private rooms were near the end of this wing and there was only one other set of doors here. Regardless if Makaden had allies, furious demons driven wild with the sin of their chosen House, Wrath would eliminate them with nary a thought.
If my anger was an aphrodisiac to him, his court’s anger likely nourished and fed his power in droves. Wrath thrived on fury in every sense of the word.
I glanced down the opposite end of the corridor; an ornate iron gate had dropped from the ceiling, locking out anyone who tried to enter this section. My jaw ached from how hard I now clenched it. Being caged in didn’t thrill me, but at least there was another exit in the secret panel if I wanted to leave. One that was magically warded, if the tingling sensation was any indication. Wrath had used the same magic back in my realm to protect me from his brothers.
The fact that he’d taken precautions in his own royal House wasn’t comforting, but I trusted that no one would slip past his wards.
“Makaden had that coming for decades.”
I pulled my attention to Anir. “I imagine he did.”
“Then why…” His voice trailed off as he really looked me over. “You’re angry.”
Wrong. I was furious. It was a wonder steam wasn’t billowing out of my ears.
If I could not handle repugnant creatures like Lord Makaden on my own, I would never gain the respect of this court or any other.
Wrath ought to count his demonic blessings he wasn’t the one standing here with me now. I’d take his precious blade to his throat, tear the clothes from my person and bathe in his warm blood as I slit him ear to ear.
The unexpected pleasure I felt, thinking such a dark, wicked thing yanked me back to my senses. While the flames of my fury banked, the embers of rage remained. I was not nearly as horrified as I should have been by my almost literal bloodlust.
Anir’s mouth twisted up on one side. He must have read the promise of murder flashing in my eyes and found it amusing. He was wise enough not to laugh.
“His private chambers are at the end of this hall. Give him ten minutes, I’m sure he’ll be there by then.”
I was too angry to show my surprise. Of course Wrath placed me close to him. He was keeping a careful watch on his brother’s fiancée. Ever the dutiful soldier. Except for when he’d kissed me before dinner. I doubted that was part of his orders. Though, knowing him, maybe it was another twisted scheme he’d dreamed up to keep me preoccupied and not causing trouble.
I spun on my heel and slammed the door to my suite behind me.
I passed the time by removing Makaden’s blood and gore from my body. I sat at the vanity in my bathing chamber, dipping a linen towel into the crystal washbasin, turning the water there a pinkish red. I dabbed at the remaining dampness while staring at the silent woman in the mirror. I couldn’t find any hint of the girl I’d been before my sister’s murder.
That Emilia had perished in the room with my twin, had had her heart ripped from her, too, and it didn’t appear as if she’d ever return. No matter how hard I fought, who I deceived, or how much of my soul I bargained away, nothing would ever bring my sister back. Even if I succeeded in destroying those who’d hurt Vittoria, I could see no way of ever happily returning to that simple, quiet life. The one where I was most content with my books and recipes.
This new reality felt strange, but fitting. It was a life where I didn’t cringe at violence, only seethed that the punishment that had been dealt was taken from my eager hands. I wondered at death, at the ones we lost and how their loss stole something vital from us in return.
A tear slid down my cheek as I set aside the bloodstained towel.
“Enough,” I said, quietly, forcefully to myself as I stood. I planted my hands on the vanity top and leaned in, glaring at my reflection. “Enough.”
There was no longer any room for sadness or grief in my world. In my heart.
I focused intently on that anger, that spark in my core close to my magic’s source. It was as if a lava pit were bubbling inside me, ready to erupt. I’d never felt my power so strongly and realized it wouldn’t take much to harness it. All I had to do was reach in and grab it.