A flash crossed his mind of when she’d nearly fainted on Vexley’s roof. Of course. The metal roof had been iron. No wonder she’d gotten so ill.
She finally dared a glance in his direction, but Envy refused to acknowledge her.
Envy might be a ruthless bastard, but Camilla had far outplayed him.
How foolish he must have seemed to her, speaking of his hatred for Unseelie royalty.
While fucking her on his throne. He thought of that night in a new light now, of her mockery. She’d owned Envy on his seat of power, knowing damn well her father had royally fucked his court. It was really quite impressive, how alike she was to Lennox.
To think he’d even briefly fantasized about breaking his rule for her.
Screwing Envy and his throne. It sure as hell would be the last time an Unseelie royal ever played him.
“The game is over,” Envy said, definitely feeling the first slow beats of his heart. Of course it would fucking regenerate now. Right when it was poised to break. “Where’s my prize?”
SIXTY-ONE
CAMILLA IMAGINED ENVY hated her beyond anything, had probably jumped to all the wrong conclusions the moment Lennox confirmed their familial connection, because she hadn’t confided the truth. She wanted to comfort him, to explain, to beg forgiveness, but weakness in the Wild Court would never stand. If her true father saw how much she cared for the prince…
She gave her father, the Unseelie King, a ruthless smile her mother had taught her.
“He won the game, but I want my talent back. Now.”
She finally flicked a glance over her shoulder, scanning the demon. Envy stared back at her, hard. If looks could kill, Camilla would be lying dead at his feet this moment.
“Give him his prize and be done with it,” she said, bored.
The Unseelie King sat back, studying her far too closely.
“You speak for him?” Lennox asked, his voice low with warning. “Why.”
It wasn’t a question.
“You sent him to my realm. Had him require my assistance for your pathetic game. Then you had the Hexed Throne steal my talent.”
“And?” Lennox asked, his voice a silken, dangerous purr.
“It was obviously a way to force me here. You knew I would only come for my talent. Since sending Wolf to fetch me years ago didn’t work so well. Mother said you do not understand the concept of being denied.”
Camilla was almost certain Envy still hadn’t drawn a breath.
“Please. I want to restore my magic and go back home. To Waverly Green.”
She saw her father’s gaze narrow. Felt his displeasure a moment before violence erupted.
The Unseelie King was in front of her a moment later, eyes bright and flashing like starlight. His hair had changed too; gone were the silver-and-white locks, replaced by inky strands. Night was light and dark, moonlight and the absence of it.
The Unseelie King’s eyes and hair changed with his mood.
“What did you say?” he asked, his voice low and terrible. Unseelie chattered excitedly in the background. “I’m sure no child of mine deigned to plead.”
Camilla internally cursed. Mortals so often said “please,” she’d forgotten what an insult that was to Unseelie royalty. How she’d just proved herself no better than a human pet.
“You want to be restored, daughter?”
She held his stare, jaw locked. “Yes.”
His fingers turned to talons; in a move that was all preternatural speed, he reached behind her, then slashed those talons across the back of her head. Hot blood spilled down her neck, dripped to the floor. Where he clawed, her skin burned.
She bit down on her scream, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her in pain.
Envy flinched beside her, his hand drifting to his blade. She didn’t dare look at him.
“I wouldn’t do that.” Lennox hadn’t missed the demon’s reaction either.
Camilla gritted her teeth, knowing exactly what Lennox had done. Magic sparked over her skin, revealing all she’d kept hidden from the world.
Her ears lengthened to elegant points; her limbs regained their immortal strength. The wound on her hand healed instantly, along with the cuts her father had just made. Her talent came whooshing in next, filling her, that hollow void brimming with power. The return of her essence was a balm, but the soothing victory was short-lived.
Gone was her glamour. The mask she’d hidden behind for most of her life.
Lennox had destroyed the symbol tattooed under her hairline, revealing the truth of what she was. What she’d always been. Unseelie. An Unseelie royal—the beings Envy despised above all others. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him again, couldn’t see the disgust.
After his story of why he hated the Unseelie court, guilt had eaten away at her. Camilla was everything he loathed, symbolized the near destruction of his people.
She hated the king. Hated this court. Hated herself for being too weak and afraid to tell Envy. But he’d kept secrets from her, too. Had initially even lied about his name.
Instead, Camilla glared coolly at Lennox.
“Are we through? I need a bath.”
“Camilla… you don’t…” His laughter was dark and sinister. He glanced at Envy, giving him a conspiratorial look. “Changelings. They do delight. Full Fae, but with human sentiments.”
His gaze was hard when it turned to her.
“There is no Waverly Green for you anymore. Welcome home, Princess. We’ll burn the mortal blight out of you.”
Camilla lost some of her false bravado.
Lennox meant that more literally than figuratively. He would torture her until she became as cruel and twisted as her elder sister and brother. They’d not been given over to the mortal world—they’d been trained to lead their courts. That they weren’t here now indicated they were playing twisted games with their own Fae.
Her younger brother surprised her by stepping forward.
“I’ll bring her to my court.”
Ayden stared their father down, his expression a practiced snarl.
“Two brilliant little fools. More mortal than Fae in spirit.” Lennox nodded. “What trouble might this stir? Leading your courts… or will they lead you? Chaos.”
He considered Ayden’s offer. Then he looked at Envy again.
A slow, saccharine smile curved his mouth.
“My daughter will stay here. With me. The Wild Court could use fresh royal blood. Give me her locket.”
He motioned to a male standing near the dais, one of his personal guards, with a piece of iron piercing his nose. A sign of strength. Of his power. And his penchant for enjoying pain.
Camilla clasped her mother’s locket in her hand, backing away. “This belongs to me.”
Lennox gave her a dark smile.
“Your mother stole it from my coffers before she stole you, too. The locket is mine. And I’ve gone to a lot of trouble to get it back.”
Camilla inhaled sharply, still holding on to the locket as the guard approached. He held a hand out, eyes glittering with challenge. She didn’t hand it over. But he didn’t seem to care.
He sliced the metal from her neck, then brought the prize to his king. Lennox closed his fingers around it, a strange, silver light emanating from his closed fist. Camilla hadn’t known the locket held that kind of power, had been told it repelled Unseelie males.