“Keeping lovers through force is nothing to boast about.”
“Choice is appealing, force is not. Might does not always make right. Unless my bedmate asks nicely.” His gaze raked over me, and I wondered how well he could see into the shadows. “I take it you’ve accepted my invitation to play with envious emotions.”
“Don’t you enjoy inspiring envy?”
“Coming here to make my brother jealous does nothing for me.” He set his glass on a low table and flicked at imaginary lint on his suit. I caught sight of his emerald-tipped blade peeking out from his jacket and resisted the sudden urge to use it on him. He plucked up his drink again and finished it off. “Using someone is rude by any standards.”
If that was what he believed, all the better. I stepped into the light, watching as his focus dropped to the pale lavender tattoo on my forearm. He’d been amused by it the first time he saw it. Now I knew why.
“The first night I met you, you knew about my betrothal to Wrath. You mentioned something about tangled webs. Being less cryptic would have been nice. Especially if you were looking to form an alliance with me.”
“In case you haven’t already noticed, I’m not nice. Nor do I pretend to be. And, even if I were afflicted with a conscience, I would have hated to ruin all the fun.” Envy’s lips pulled into a cruel slash when he noticed my necklace. “It was much more interesting to sit back and see how it played out. Some of us even wagered on the outcome. I cannot tell you how much I made off of Greed. But he is now in my debt, and I’m sure you can imagine how little he enjoys that.”
I moved with purpose across the room. A sideboard with a decanter and glass sat waiting, and, without an invitation, I poured myself two knuckles of amber liquid and sat in the velvet chair beside Envy’s. His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t call out my rudeness. Or lack of propriety or respect for his elevated rank.
“You wanted me to join your House, even knowing about the betrothal bond I shared with your brother.” I took a small sip, anticipating the burn. “It must get lonely. Playing all those games by yourself.”
“Whatever you’re attempting, I suggest stopping while I’m still feeling hospitable.”
His tone was frosty, but he wasn’t quick enough to hide the flash of hurt in his eyes. My first shot had struck a bull’s-eye. I shoved any feelings of guilt aside. His temporary moment of pain was nothing compared to the finality of my twin’s brutal murder.
“Imagine that.” I grinned over my drink. “And here I was under the impression I hadn’t yet been introduced to your manners. First, threats to me issued by your vampire lapdog, then holding my family hostage. We also can’t forget that nasty little incident in the tunnels with your invisible demon army and, of course, gutting Wrath.”
“For someone who is here instead of with her betrothed, you certainly seem angry about that. I would have thought you’d consider it a favor.”
“Turning your blade on yourself would have been the ultimate favor.”
Much like when Wrath was displeased, the temperature around us seemed to plummet. I’d felt the frozen horror of Envy’s power and influence before, the ice-cold jealousy that eroded all sense of morality. The first licks of his power slid down my spine, but I’d been waiting.
I lifted my hand, as if brushing away a strand of hair, and subtly ran my fingers over Wrath’s Mark. It broke this prince’s influence before it took hold, just as I’d hoped it would.
Envy jerked back, his attention snapping to mine. A slow smile spread across his face, dousing the flicker of rage. “Aren’t you full of intrigue tonight. And here I worried dinner would be boring.”
I kept my expression bland, but my heart raced. If he tried to use his power again, I wasn’t sure my little trick would work a second time. He seemed to sense that and was contemplating his next move. His lazy assessment reminded me of a cat that was deciding whether the bird fluttering close by was worth the effort of leaving his sunshine patch for.
Envy’s gaze flicked to his House dagger.
He removed it from its sheath and ran a finger along the blade. There was little doubt in my mind he was dreaming of creative ways to use it on me. My hand inched toward my own weapon, but I did not lift my skirts to reveal it. Whatever happened next, I’d be ready.
We sat there for an uncomfortably long beat, the only sound the ticking of a clock somewhere in the room. Envy stroked the metal, and I swore the blade almost purred. Just when I was certain he was about to pounce, a knock sounded at the door, breaking the murderous tension between us. Envy replaced his dagger. At his command, servants filed in carrying emerald trays and platters of food to the circular table near the far end of the room.