Vittoria’s lips lifted in a half smirk. “Remember, sister. Enjoy the sausage all you like, but don’t purchase the pig. It’s the only warning I can offer.”
“Why should I listen to you?”
“I’m your blood.” Domenico half-dragged her across the chamber, then waved his hand until a glittering portal opened before them. Vittoria paused, glancing back at me. “Some bonds can never be broken, Emilia. And some choices have consequences akin to death. Take it from someone who knows all too well what that’s like.”
Chills danced down my spine from the first part of her warning. Wrath had said something similar to me on the night I discovered the truth of why he’d given me his royal Mark.
My fingers absently brushed against the nearly invisible S on my neck, the magic causing a slight, pleasant tingle that traveled down my nonbody.
“What does that mean?” I demanded. “No more games, Vittoria.”
“Choose him and you’ll give up part of yourself,” she said, offering an answer that only raised more questions. “See you tomorrow. Don’t be late.”
“Stop! Why must we meet on the Shifting Isles?” I asked. “Why not tell me what you need here?”
“You’ll just have to wait and see.” Vittoria blew me a kiss, then stepped through the portal with the werewolf on her heels. Apparently, Domenico, an alpha in his own right, knew a bigger threat had entered his territory. Retreat was the smart option. Or perhaps he’d only choked on his pride to save my twin. I wasn’t sure how I felt after our encounter; too many emotions were warring against one another, but I was grateful she had a loyal ally. She needed one.
“Emilia.”
Wrath strode into the chamber a moment later, his body humming with the threat of an impending war. A battle he was bringing to our enemies. He glared at the closing portal, then swept his attention over me, sharp as the blade in his fist and promising the same level of violence on anyone who’d hurt me. I glanced down, noticing the shadow robe had also abandoned its post at his arrival. Once again I stood nude, but not cowed.
“Did they harm you?” His voice was clipped, as if he were saving all his energy for the fight. Domenico might have escaped, but Wrath would hunt him down. The cold, unforgiving look on his face promised nothing but pain and torment.
I shook my head, not trusting myself to speak the partial lie. Harm wasn’t always inflicted physically. “It was my sister. She wanted to make sure I received her message about tomorrow. Where are the Shifting Isles?”
“Just outside the mainland.” The demon’s gaze methodically took in each inch of the chamber before coming to rest on the manacles. In a flash, his blade was gone and he was in front of me, gently bringing my wrists up for closer inspection. Red splotches that would turn into nasty bruises had Wrath’s anger flaring impossibly higher. His voice was now laced with deadly promise, and the air turned so frigid my teeth began to chatter. “If anyone chains you again, I will become every nightmare mortals have ever had of me and then some.”
Ice shot up the walls and coated the ceiling as the temperature continued to plummet. Chunks of stone cracked and fell to the ground. If he didn’t rein in his temper soon, we’d both be encapsulated in ice or buried under stone.
“What if I ask you to tie me up?”
The harsh expression on Wrath’s face faltered as he blinked down at me. He hadn’t expected that. Good. Perhaps we’d make it out of this realm before we turned into ice sculptures. I disentangled myself from his light grasp and wrapped my arms around his middle, listening to his heart beat faster from the embrace. Almost immediately, I felt warmer.
“Simply saying ‘I love you; I’m pleased you’re all right’ would have sufficed, too.”
A beat of silence passed, and I could practically feel Wrath straining to leash himself. Only his iron will would cage the immense power struggling to break out, to attack. I couldn’t imagine the discipline, the absolute control he had over his namesake sin, to finally wrangle his wrath into submission. The air warmed a fraction, though it was still deathly frigid.
He held me a little closer, as if comforting himself that I was safe and secure. “Torturing and disemboweling your enemies would be an act of love.”
“No one can deny you are a demon of action.” I snorted and drew back enough to see mirth entering his eyes in place of the icy rage, though there was still something haunted in his expression that wasn’t as quick to disappear. “Take me home, please. It’s been a long night. I need a warm bath and an entire bottle of demonberry wine.”