“Do not make me repeat myself. Bow or you’ll burn.” I summoned a fiery rose and sent it hovering above Blade.
He clenched his teeth but went to his knees, inclining his head in Wrath’s direction. “Your majesty.”
I stared at their prone forms, not releasing them from their positions of forced acquiescence. Wrath didn’t utter a word, sensing my emotions and giving me the time I needed to regain control. Or maybe he was simply pleased and wanted to see what I’d do next; discover how else our sins aligned in unholy matrimony. He’d said he wanted an equal. Wrath might command ice, but I was all fire. And the First Witch really shouldn’t have stoked my fury. Had it been only Blade speaking for the vampires, I doubted I’d have reacted the way I did.
It was Sursea’s presence, her foul demeanor, the implication that she had a secret my husband knew, along with her sneer at Wrath, that drove me mad with rage. For hurting him, I wanted to hurt her tenfold. It was irrational. Absolute. A consuming need for pure vengeance. I suddenly understood my sister all too well. I wanted our enemies to suffer. For every year, every month, day, hour, and second of pain they inflicted on my loved ones, I wanted to return the favor until they begged for mercy or death. And then I’d deny them that, too.
Twisted though it may be, that was the power of love. It could usher in warmth and light, and it could also turn a single ember into a raging inferno, destroying those who threatened it. Love might be the worst sin of them all, with its two sides.
Or perhaps that was simply the way of House Vengeance.
Torches around the chamber flared higher, the flames flickering wildly in a phantom breeze. I glanced around the mostly empty court, at the soldiers in their finery, Anir and Fauna among them. Respect, not fear, flared in each of their eyes. I might have scared them a little before, but they’d expect the princess of House Wrath to inspire some fear just as their prince did. That I was now using that power on our enemies… I inclined my head in their direction, acknowledging them. My attention returned to the unwanted guests still groveling at our feet.
That ancient, terrible power in my core stirred. The First Witch tensed. Her curse had locked it away, and the magic keeping it confined was deteriorating. One way or another, my spell-lock would break. And then that monster would be free. Sursea sensed that. She had to.
It was that thought, that promise to let my beast go wild one day, that soothed me. Still, it took every ounce of restraint I could muster to not unleash my magic now and watch them burn.
Tendrils of smoke curled into the air, and the acrid scent of leather burning wafted over to where we sat. The First Witch flinched but didn’t move to put out the glowing ember in her skirts. Wrath ran a finger along the top of my hand, his caress a cool balm to my fury. I exhaled slowly, quietly. And I drew my magic back to its source. I waited another beat to be certain I’d found my center. One wrong move and I’d become the monster I was feared to be.
“Rise.” My expression was now as tightly guarded as my emotions.
Wrath leaned back in his throne, a cruel tilt to his lips. Here sat an amused devil, delighting in his equally wicked queen. He regarded the vampire coolly, ignoring the witch as if she weren’t standing there at all. “Why are you here?”
“To discuss a potential alliance between us.”
“Strange timing for your prince. He hasn’t bothered with the northern regions for centuries.”
“Not quite so odd. After a recent visit from the goddess of death and her unique demon-werewolf companion, it made my prince consider the potential for having such unusual allies.” To his credit, Blade held my husband’s intense stare.
My eyes narrowed. Aside from her claim of wanting to spark unease and potentially start a war between supernaturals, Vittoria was up to something. Perhaps the companion Blade mentioned was simply Domenico somehow throwing off his scent, but another theory rose in my mind, and I chanced following it. “Was the demon-werewolf’s name Vesta?”
“No. Marcella.” Blade’s attention never left Wrath’s as he answered. “She hailed from the Shifting Isles.”
“You’re certain she wasn’t from here?” I asked.
“She didn’t say anything else. And we were mostly concerned with the goddess.”
Suspicion coiled around me, but Blade clearly had no other information on my sister’s companion. At least nothing he was willing to share if we refused an alliance.
Given the blood left at the murder scene, it made sense for Vesta to be genetically unique. Which might be why Greed coveted her. And was the first aspect I’d wondered about when both demon and werewolf blood had been found. This information made me now question if Vesta’s interest in the portal on Pride’s land had something to do with a potential inability for her to travel to the Shadow Realm. If my theory was correct and she was genetically unique, perhaps her demon side made that impossible. Much like the new wolf Antonio had mentioned.