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Kingdom of the Cursed (Kingdom of the Wicked #2)(90)

Author:Kerri Maniscalco

“Make no mistake, Emilia. When I go to my knees before you, it will be to conquer, not surrender. If you harbor any doubts, I shall enjoy proving you wrong. Now unbuckle my armor.”

His statement was laced with magical command.

I felt the slight tingling sensation he’d described as his demonic influence sought to take hold of my emotions, bending them to the demon prince’s will. I was halfway across the weapons room before I shook myself out of the sinful grip. A tiny thrill went through me. I didn’t need my magic to fight against him. Only my will.

“Unbuckle my armor, now. Then take your blade to my belt and cut it off.”

This time, Wrath used the full strength of his power. Magic caressed me, urged me forward. His armor was undone and discarded in seconds.

I slipped my hand beneath my gown and removed the dagger hidden there in one swift motion. The blade was to his belt by the time I regained control.

Wrath’s mouth pressed into a firm line. “You’re distracted.”

“I can’t imagine why.” I pretended to think on it. “Maybe it has to do with the invitation I received for the Feast of the Wolf. I’ve heard Gluttony’s parties are legendary for their debauchery.”

“Most gatherings are laden with sin and vice. It’s the way of this realm, and why we’re training. But that’s not what you’re worried about.”

“I thought I was to have some small say in where the feast was thrown.” I fiddled with the dagger. “I don’t—I’m not looking forward to it.”

“You’ll be able to sense any emotional manipulation by then. And you will be equipped to break free of their influence should they behave poorly.”

“It’s not that, either.”

He scanned my face. “It won’t be pleasant, but it won’t be the worst thing you’ll live through.”

“As always, you are exceptional with easing nerves. I…” I shook my head, then bent to replace my dagger in my thigh sheath. “It’s not just the fear being ripped from me.”

“My brothers will not hurt you.”

“I don’t know how to dance.”

His brows raised. “You won’t be forced to dance if you don’t want to.”

I didn’t meet his gaze. Dancing would allow me an opportunity to spend time with each of his brothers. I imagined there would be some talking involved, and I didn’t want my lack of refinement to impede my mission. Since I no longer could attempt to spell the wine, dancing and sipping a refreshment after would be perfect for conversation.

“You’re probably right.” I forced a smile. “It’s silly to worry about.”

Wrath didn’t respond right away. He cocked his head to the side, eyes narrowed. “You danced at the bonfire the night you encountered Lust. You were magnificent then. I don’t see why you’ll have any trouble with a waltz.”

I lifted a shoulder and turned my attention back to the table near us. Several strange daggers had been neatly lined up. They were solid black with one long piece cut out in the center of the hilt and the blade.

“Eight-inch throwing knives.” Wrath moved to the table and plucked up a knife. “They are solid steel with a smooth handle as to not disturb your grip and are weighted in the front to make throwing more accurate. Would you like to practice?”

I ran a finger over the cool metal. “Yes.”

“Take it by the bottom. We’ll work on a spin technique.”

I held it by the handle and aimed for the wooden target Wrath indicated at the far end of this section of the weapons rooms. It flew through the air, landing left of center, and fell to the ground. The demon prince nodded and handed me another blade. “The knife didn’t stick because you’re standing too close.”

“How can you tell that?”

“When it spins, if the blade is angled down when it falls, it indicates you need to step back. Half of throwing knives and getting them to reach your target is all about where you’re standing.”

I shifted my stance, then repeated the steps. This time the hit came to the right of the red circle and stuck. A deep sense of elation went through me.

I held my hand out, waiting for the next blade, and was surprised to feel Wrath’s fingers wrapping around mine instead. I twisted, confused.

“What are—”

“We’re starting a new lesson.” He gently pulled me closer. “Place one hand on my shoulder. And hold lightly to this one. Good.” He angled our bodies, then straightened to his full height. “The movements are simple. We’ll be dancing in a box shape. Step back on the ball of your right foot, and follow with your left. Keep them a foot apart as we move.”

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