Home > Books > Kingdom of the Feared (Kingdom of the Wicked, #3)(59)

Kingdom of the Feared (Kingdom of the Wicked, #3)(59)

Author:Kerri Maniscalco

I turned my attention on Nonna, and she finally looked at me in return. Sadness and… worry… marred her features. She took in my night clothing, the SEMPER TVVS tattoo on my finger and the other tattoo on my forearm, my chains, and still, she cringed back.

As if I were the monster in the room and my sister hadn’t either beaten her or had her beaten and dragged to the Shadow Realm.

I swallowed the rising lump in my throat. “Nonna. It’s all right. It’s me.”

Vittoria watched my reaction with a detached look. Then she kicked our grandmother in the side, forcing her to curl in on herself, to gasp for breath. I shouted for mercy, but no one seemed to notice. Nonna’s lips started moving, and I realized it wasn’t a spell she was whispering, she was praying. Her words washed over me; she was begging the ultimate divine goddess above for protection. From us. Something twisted in my center, painful and unpleasant.

“You didn’t want to believe me earlier”—Vitoria thrust her arm out in accusation—“so here is your proof. She’s not rushing to your aid. Nor is she praying for you, though you’re the one in chains. She is only out for herself. Tigers don’t change their stripes, and she is not the little house cat she pretends to be. Have you tried leaving this realm lately? Run into any difficulty, dear sister? I imagine you did, because I found her hexing the gates.”

I released a shaky breath. Nonna stopped praying and met my gaze again. This time a spark lit her dark eyes. Defiance. Vittoria was correct. My grandmother wasn’t sorry, nor would she deign to apologize to an enemy. And that’s exactly what she thought of us. Of me.

What had been left of my stolen heart broke.

“Why?” I asked, my voice quiet, brittle. “Was anything of our childhood real?”

For the briefest moment, Nonna’s expression softened. The grandmother I’d known emerged, kind yet fierce. Protective and loving. Here was the woman who’d comforted me when my twin “died.” Here was the rock in my world, the steady force anchoring me during the worst storm I’d been through. Or so I’d thought. Here was one of the people who’d betrayed me. And yet I couldn’t find it in my soul to hate her. Even now. Which meant their spell-lock had succeeded. I might still be a goddess underneath the curse, but I now felt as mortals did.

“I’m sorry, bambina.” Nonna’s voice warbled. “We did what needed to be done.”

Tears I’d managed to hold back burst out in a torrent. They streamed down my face, the salt coating my lips. It was true. Every wicked, dark thing Vittoria claimed.

I drew in a ragged breath, trying desperately to get myself under control. I needed to understand how someone who’d loved me as their own grandchild could betray me. I needed to hear her admit she’d murdered others for their hearts. Goddess above.

I couldn’t begin to process that part. “You used the darkest of magic to bind us. How could you resort to human sacrifice?”

My grandmother, who now felt like a ruthless stranger to me, thought it over for a moment.

“Wartime is rife with sacrifice. Humans understand that just like witches.” Nonna said it without emotion, as if she were reciting ingredients for a spell or recipe. “Two lives for the whole coven… it’s what the elders agreed upon.”

My stomach twisted in knots. I felt gutted. There was no remorse, no sadness, only cold justification for evil. “Who did the coven murder for their hearts?”

Vittoria stepped in, her lavender eyes alight with dark glee. “She’s jumping to the end of the tale when, truly, you must hear it from the beginning.” She glared down at Nonna. “Set the stage properly. Or your use to me this evening has run its course. Tell her about Sofia. Your friend.”

“Sofia Santorini?” I asked, already dreading what I was about to discover. “What did you do to her?”

Nonna pushed herself to a sitting position, her breathing labored. I wondered if Vittoria bruised or broke one of her ribs. My sister yanked her up and thrust her into a chair that materialized from nowhere. In mere seconds, Vittoria had her chained, too.

Despite everything Nonna had done, I tried breaking free to help her, but there was no escaping my own restraints.

“Go on, tell her,” Vittoria demanded, bending down to whisper in her ear. “Or I’ll force you.”

“I caught her scrying in Death’s temple. So I made sure the information she learned never left that chamber. There were certain… truths, only me and one other council member were trusted with. We were told to keep the secret at all costs.”

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