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Throne of the Fallen: Part 3 – Chapter 49


CAMILLA STARED AT the door long after the prince had left.

He’d lied to her. Pretended he was seeking a lover when his expression looked as pained as hers. Had the idiot even realized he’d glanced away, his throat tight at that most crucial moment?

“What an ass.”

He was an even bigger ass if he believed she’d simply stay put. As far as Camilla knew, she was a guest in his circle and as such she could travel wherever she pleased.

Before deciding where she’d like to visit first, she plucked up a few discarded pages, scanning more of the clues he’d tossed away. Interesting. He believed Wolf was the messenger.

Camilla had a slightly different suspicion.

She called for a cloak and thick wool gloves, which took far longer than she’d expected. The maid who’d arrived was flushed, her eyes bright, almost feverish.

“Apologies for the delay, miss. Staff is short…” She trailed off, glancing back down the corridor. “Were you needing anything else?”

Camilla followed her gaze. No one emerged from what she presumed were the kitchens below. Typically, a cottage of this size was considered a country estate. Envy should have a full staff—butler, footmen, maids, and cook.

“Are you alone?” she asked the young demon.

The maid nibbled on her lower lip. “Just me and one footman left.”

Camilla’s brows knitted. Something in the way the demon had said they were the only ones left caused unease. Before Camilla could ask her to expound, the maid dropped a polite curtsy, then darted back down the hall.

Camilla stared after her for a few more moments, but Envy’s choice to keep the cottage barely staffed wasn’t really a great mystery. Maybe he didn’t use it often. Maybe the others were preparing for Camilla’s arrival at his House. Or the supposed guest he was expecting tonight.

Either way, she had bigger things to focus on.

Camilla donned her cloak, pulled on her gloves, then stole into the snow-covered night. Excitement thrummed through her as she inhaled the cold, spruce-scented air. The Seven Circles were under a constant cover of snow and ice, the realm a winter wonderland.

Her breath puffed in front of her as she darted along the tree line, her steps crunching on the frost-coated ground, sinking into the soft coldness below.

She glanced behind at the cottage, the windows glowing with warm gold light. She’d half expected Alexei to emerge, but wherever Envy had gone, his second seemed to have followed. Envy probably expected her to stay inside the cottage.

A renewed sense of annoyance had her pressing on, searching for the far western edge of Envy’s circle. Soon enough, the howl rent the air due north of where she’d paused. The sound raised an army of goose bumps along her arms.

Camilla tossed a quick glance around once last time, to be certain she wasn’t being followed, then plunged into the woods. The animals grew silent, watchful.

A predator lurked nearby.

Several minutes later, she found him sitting on a mound, a brook fighting against the elements nearby, the trickle nearly frozen but refusing to submit to winter’s might.

“Wolf.”

“What a delight.” His teeth gleamed in the moonlight. “Our paths cross again.”

He’d discarded his hat, allowing the full majesty of his Fae glory to shine.

He knew what he was doing. And Camilla allowed herself to admire him for a beat.

His white hair was tousled from the gusts of arctic wind, his ears on full display. His star-kissed appearance like the night in all its glittering charm.

He was still beautiful, still as ageless as the last time she’d seen him up close, two years before. His Otherness reminding her of how quickly he’d enchanted her, how fast she’d wanted him in her bed. But he was a reminder of her past. Of a choice she’d been given years too late.

“You had a message,” Camilla said. “Give it now.”

Wolf tsked.

“Is that any way to speak to an old friend?”

He unfolded himself from the rock and was suddenly before her, her hands clasped in his as he swung her around. He danced them across the snow, humming a tune that would enchant any mortal who heard it.

“My sweet little lover,” he crooned against her ear. “Come to court. Imagine the fun we could have. Twisted in sheets, twisted in our dark souls. Don’t you wonder what it could be?”

She did. And that was the problem. She shouldn’t want to go to the dark court at all.

Camilla allowed him his moment, then halted, feet stubbornly fixed to the ground.

“You brought me out here in the dead of night, I came. Give me the message. I’m sure you have many mortals to charm.”

“Some immortals, too.” His chuckle was filled with sensual promise. “Why deny what you are? You hide under that façade, dimming your light. Year after year.”

He trailed a nimble finger along her ear, his expression sad.

“Do you even remember what you are? Or has playing pretend for the humans made you think you are one?”

She batted his hand from her ear, then strode away, furious. “I am not here to debate my choices.”

Or lack thereof.

“Then tell me what you are. Prove you still know.”

Camilla’s throat tightened, her hands curling into fists. She had not admitted the truth out loud since the first day they arrived in Waverly Green and her mother had forbidden it.

Wolf’s animal-like eyes glowed dangerously.

“Shall I remind you what it was like, to finally be with an equal?” he said quietly. “Not to have to hold back?”

She was breathing entirely too fast, her nails carving crescent moons into her palms.

“You wanted me, Camilla, because we are the same. When you came to me in the dark market, you knew I could give you what no mortal man could.”

“Yet you take mortal women to your bed. Do they not give you what you desire?”

“You know as well as I do, I cannot truly fuck a mortal without glamour. It will never be the same as it was between you and me. Flirt with your demon now, but when the time comes, you’ll mate with a Fae. There is a place for you in the Wild Court.”

This was not at all the way she’d wanted this conversation to go.

“Is that why you were outside my gallery and Hemlock Hall? You’re trying to stake your claim.”

“Partly. But I was also sent to watch the game players. You were a pleasant surprise.” He sighed and stepped back, looking her over. “It would be a poor move on my part if I didn’t make my intentions known now. I’m here to offer a way back. If you agree, I want you to do so as my mate. It doesn’t have to be about love. An alliance is far more valuable.”

“Would you bring me back to Waverly Green?”

“Wherever you wish to go.” His yellow eyes drank her in. “Mortal realms. Fae courts. My bedchamber. The offer has a time limit, I’m sure you understand.”

Camilla knew what he wasn’t saying. If she chose to return to Waverly Green, she wouldn’t be able to leave again. Such was the subtext of Fae bargains. This offer hadn’t originated with Wolf, it was from the game master himself.

She chose her next words with care.

“If you’re serious about forming an alliance, answer a question for me.”

He smiled, intrigued. “One question, one kiss.”

“No kiss, one question, no assault on your favorite head.”

His booming laughter filled the night. “Very well, let’s play by your rules tonight.”

“Where is the dearly twin?”

“Old name. Older than me.”

“Ancient, then. My question remains.”

“Old ones call them the dearly twin…” His focus briefly turned inward. “The Twin Pillars of Faerie. It’s an ancient Fae site, now abandoned. That is where you wish to go?”

No. That was where she wished to go without him. And it was also not at all what she’d expected. Thankfully he didn’t seem to realize he’d given her much more than she’d hoped.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“There is a portal not far from here. One of the demon prince’s guards watches it.” He flung his hand out, motioning in the general direction.

“Which prince?”

“If you want me to take you there, that detail doesn’t matter. Come.”

Stubborn male.

“Good night, Wolf.”

She started walking back in the path she’d made, unsurprised to hear the Fae curse and come after her.

“You need to give me an answer, Millie.”

She spun, eyes flashing.

“Do not call me by a nickname. We fornicated. A lifetime ago. That is the beginning and ending of any affection we shared. And yes, I could give in to all my passions in your bed. I could ride you for as long as I liked, as hard as I liked, and know you’d be just as wild and hungry. That’s ancient history now.”

“Doesn’t seem so long ago. And you didn’t mind that nickname when I was pushing inside you.”

Wolf’s attention dropped to where her locket lay nestled against her chest, barely visible under her cloak. His expression imitated mortal sadness perfectly. He’d been practicing.

“What a curious little trinket… did your—”

He reached over, gently brushing the gift from her mother, then drew his fingers back with a hiss. He glared at her. As if she should have warned him that the charm repelled Unseelie males.

“If you leave, the offer is revoked.”

“Of course it is.”

Camilla’s laugh was cold, void of humor.

They expected her to make a life-altering decision in only a few moments. A future wasn’t something to throw away on a whim, to be forced into by fear.

When Camilla chose her fate, she wanted to do so for herself, because she’d had time to think about what she wanted out of life. She’d never gotten to decide that before.

“Good night, Wolf. Travel well.”

“Wait.”

His voice had lost its teasing edge.

She turned back, waiting.

Wolf surprised her by yanking her close, attempting a hug that ended up being a stiff pat to the back. Foolish Fae. She melted against him for a moment before disentangling from his embrace, then stepped back.

“I appreciate your hunting me down,” she said. Thanking a Fae wasn’t wise. Acknowledging an action was the best course to take, one that wouldn’t leave you indebted.

“Don’t go yet. Camilla, I need to hear you say it. I need to know you remember.”

She knew what he meant, even if she wasn’t sure why he was so desperate for her to say it out loud. It was a plea, not a threat or a demand. A choice. She thought about her mother, about how she’d commanded Camilla never to speak her truth aloud again.

“I may be Fae,” she whispered softly, “but that doesn’t make me part of your court.”

“Doesn’t it, though?” His smile was reminiscent of his name. “Be safe, fair winter lady. Remember, I am not your enemy.”

Oh, but he is exactly that, isn’t he? At least for now.

This time, when she plunged back down the path she’d made, the other Fae didn’t follow.


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