WHAT DID I tell you?” Gluttony grinned, rubbing his hands together. “Pay up, brothers.”
“You don’t know that for a fact,” Lust shot back sourly.
“The invitations said, and I quote, ‘We would be honored to celebrate our betrothal with you,’” Gluttony said in falsetto. “Facts are facts, brother. You lost. Again.”
Envy ignored the petty argument, his attention straying to the silver-haired beauty holding court with the Queen of the Wicked Emilia, her friend Lady Fauna, Lady Katherine, and—much to his constant annoyance—Wolf. The gods-damned silver-tongued Unseelie.
Though Envy supposed it was beneficial to his court to have him around; Camilla gently but playfully provoked his sin just to get a rise out of him.
And rise he did. Camilla’s passion ignited his constantly.
They’d barely slept since they returned to his House of Sin. Once the last of his court had drunk from the chalice, chasing off the madness of no new memories, they’d focused on one another. Healing old hurts, forging a bond stronger than steel.
He was relieved to show her how spectacular his demons were. And spectacular they were tonight. They wore their best gowns and suits, their finest jewels. Their eyes as clear and cunning as ever as they flitted around the party, mingling with the other demons, showing off their riches. Attempting to inspire jealousy by sharing stories and discussing new art.
Envy had never been happier, seeing his court as it should be.
And Camilla… she was worth facing his fears.
Envy had never imagined the strength he’d feel the moment he became vulnerable.
His Unseelie princess had been a tireless lover, demanding he make love to her in every room, every floor of his sprawling House of Sin.
Harder, faster, gentler, deeper. Camilla loved ordering him around.
And Envy must be mad, because it made him hard as steel every time.
But he could only take orders for so long.
He’d push her down, spread her thighs wide, devouring her in the kitchens, on the dining room table, in their bedchamber, in the gallery. She’d arch up from the table, shouting his name, cursing him, praising him, bucking as he suckled every bit of her arousal, then flipped her over and fucked her until she came again. And again.
His court would hurry by, averting their gazes, though he knew they secretly adored Envy’s infatuation. They wanted their prince as happy as possible, wanted him to enjoy all he’d fought for. And Camilla enjoyed stoking envy in everyone who knew she was the one to make him break his rule.
They’d made love on the throne every night: fingers, tongue, cock. And he wanted more. Forever. And since she wasn’t human, they had all that time and more.
For the first time in his long existence, he wanted to experience everything with another.
More laughter, more quiet moments, more midnight snacks, strawberries dipped in chocolate, the two of them sprawled in front of the fire, talking of art.
More games and bringing out each other’s human aspects that hadn’t existed before.
More walking the hallways of House Envy, rearranging paintings and sculptures based on what she preferred. When they could manage not to tear each other’s clothes off, they moved some of her art from Waverly Green, combining their collections.
It wasn’t enough. Envy wanted more still.
More running his fingers through her soft hair, watching her drift off to sleep, her face peaceful. Those full lips parted in dreamy contentment.
More games to play—and he was delighted he didn’t even know what they’d be yet.
Envy would remake worlds for her. Would break every rule to make her smile. He’d—
“Are you even listening?” Gluttony waved a hand in front of his face, shaking his head in disgust. “Witches’ tits. You’re worse than he is. He jabbed his thumb in Wrath’s direction. And he’s abhorrently in love. Look at him. He’s making doe-eyes at Emilia right here.”
The demon of war bared his teeth, his smile feral, so at odds with his finely made suit.
“One day you’re going to gorge yourself on those words, brother.” Wrath’s voice was laced with dark promise.
Gluttony snorted, the sound filled with derision.
The reporter he was feuding with hadn’t responded to the invitation Envy had sent, and he was sure Gluttony’s foul mood had nothing to do with that.
“Don’t count on it,” Gluttony said. “I bet Lust will be next.”
“Not a fucking chance in any of the realms combined. Where’s Sloth?” Lust asked. “Maybe he’ll make a chart and line up all the variables for me. I cannot fathom how you’re all content to bed the same person for the rest of your days.”
He shivered.
“Sloth went to find Pride,” Wrath said, gaze landing back on his wife. “I saw a book in his jacket, though.”
“Of fucking course.” Lust groaned. “I’ll see where he’s hiding. If he doesn’t start acting like a gods-damned demon, we’re all going to get bad reputations.” He jabbed a finger into Wrath’s chest. “You need to lay down a law or something.”
Wrath’s gold eyes glittered. “First rule? Don’t touch me again.”
“Don’t kill each other in this room,” Envy said. “I just had the floors waxed.”
He’d had the entire House scrubbed of any evidence of how close the court had come to falling. Looking at it now, no one would ever suspect they’d been on the brink of collapse.
Gluttony glanced around, brows knitted. “Where’s Greed?”
“There was an issue at his gaming hell,” Envy said. “He sent his regrets.”
Gluttony snorted. “I’m sure he did. Prick.”
Wrath and Gluttony began debating about boxing, and Envy took that as his cue to leave.
He strode down the corridor, walking to where Pride lounged in a chair he’d pilfered, his crown tilted to one side. His shirtsleeves were rolled to his elbows, showing corded muscle, his shirt half untucked from his trousers.
His head was tilted all the way back, his eyes closed. An empty glass hung from his fingers. Pride played the role of debauched prince so well, Envy wondered if he’d finally become that.
He stood over his brother, then kicked Pride’s boot, drawing his gaze.
It was slow, unfocused.
“Party over, Levi?”
Envy noticed the rest of the empty bottles, the broken wineglasses. They’d been shoved into the alcove beside him.
This time Pride wasn’t pretending to be the drunken royal.
“What happened?” Envy demanded.
Pride lifted a shoulder, dropping it as if he couldn’t be bothered to respond or care.
Envy kicked him harder. “Answer the damn question, Luc.”
“Sursea won’t tell me anything.”
The First Witch, Pride’s consort’s mother, had cursed them all when Pride and Lucia wed and then refused to dissolve their relationship. Witches and demons were sworn enemies, but that didn’t stop Pride from falling in love with the one witch he shouldn’t have. Lucia was strictly off-limits, but they chose each other, despite all the reasons they shouldn’t have.
One day, Lucia left House Pride without a word. Pride didn’t know if she’d been taken against her will, imprisoned somewhere, or given a True Death. He’d been searching ever since, even when the First Witch cursed them all, keeping them trapped in the Seven Circles for years. She’d done something worse to Pride before that, though, something he refused to speak of. Envy knew it had been the true root of the miscommunication between Pride and Lucia.
None of the demons felt anything but hatred for Sursea and her quest for vengeance.
“How convincing were you?” Envy asked.
Pride gave him a withering glare. “She knows where my wife is. Knows what happened. Do you think I showed any mercy?”
Envy thought Pride would never be as ruthless as he could be. He might hate the First Witch, but he loved Lucia and wouldn’t hurt her mother.
“She’s contained?” he asked.
Pride nodded. “Until I know what happened to Lucia, she stays at my House.”
“I’m going to ask you something; you’re not going to like it, but I don’t particularly care. Understand?”
Pride narrowed his eyes but nodded again.
“Do you want Vittoria?”
“That’s a bullshit question and you know it.”
“Then answer it.”
Pride’s hand tightened on his glass.
“Are you keeping something from me?”
Envy smiled. “I’ve heard rumors. Courtiers are so interesting when they’re drunk and think no one is listening.”
“Get to the point, Levi.”
Envy leaned down, lowering his voice. “I know you never fucked the goddess.”
Pride had gone perfectly still.
“I don’t know what your game is, why you let your court and wife think otherwise. I assume you have a reason. And that reason has to do with Sursea’s meddling and magic.”
He stared at his brother. Pride’s expression was carved of stone. He’d locked his emotions down entirely, not giving away any secret.
Admittedly, Envy hadn’t heard that rumor; it was a guess.
One that might prove to be true, given the way his brother had stopped breathing. If Pride hadn’t been distracted and drunk, he would have sensed the lie.
“If Lucia is alive, if she’s found happiness elsewhere, would you destroy that?”
Pride’s teeth grinded together. “Would you hurt Camilla?”
He’d sooner rip out his heart. Again.
Envy pulled the folded parchment from inside his coat, handing it to his brother. Before he let it go, he said, “Don’t screw this up.”
Pride yanked the note from his hands, then read it over.
Envy watched as the drunkenness was quickly replaced by sharpness. Pride sat straighter, body tensed, reading the note again.
“How?” His voice was barely a whisper.
“My spies have been hard at work.” Envy gave him a cold look. “Then Emilia’s ‘grandmother’ whispered a secret in my ear a few months ago.” Two, actually. That his House would soon fall, and the one he’d share now. “Lucia doesn’t remember. Any of it.”
“You saw her?”
Envy thought about the young woman he’d had kidnapped for a brief time to break the wards on Emilia’s family home, then used to force Emilia to do his bidding. Even now, his thoughts of her were muddled, like he couldn’t quite recall her face, even after their memory curse had been broken. Envy hadn’t known it was Lucia and that bothered him.
Sursea was far too powerful for his liking.
He decided to leave out the part about him sedating her with magic, no need to enrage his brother. Desperate times had called for extreme measures. “Yes, I believe so. I think she might have a glamour, though. I didn’t immediately recognize her when our paths crossed.”
Something suspiciously close to hope lighted in Pride’s gaze. “But she lives.”
Envy nodded slowly.
“Make sure you know what you want before you seek her. If it’s just your pride…”
Envy didn’t finish the thought. Pride knew.
Pride uncoiled from his chair, note clutched tightly in his fist. He ran a hand through his hair, seeming unsure of what to do next.
“Well?” Envy pressed.
“Looks like I’ll be traveling to the Shifting Isles soon.”
“You likely only have one chance.”
Pride gave him a genuine smile. “It’s more than I had this morning.”
He took off down the hall, disappearing around the corner.
Lust stepped from the shadows, his expression contemplative. “My money’s on the goddess.”
“Not a chance.” Envy snorted. “Pride will choose Lucia. It’s always been Lucia.”
Mischief flared in Lust’s charcoal gaze. “Shall we place a wager?”
“Now you want to bet?” Envy looked his brother over. “What was your bet with Gluttony, again?”
“I bet you’d be a stubborn prick. You lived by that gods-damned rule for centuries. It seemed like a sure win.”
“Looks like my coffers will be as legendary as my cock.” Envy grinned as his brother scowled. “I accept your wager. Pride wins back Lucia. Vittoria ends up with the werewolf.”
“Or the new vampire prince.”
Envy scoffed. “Blade doesn’t consort with death goddesses. And he’s already said he’s choosing a vampire bride.”
Lust tossed an arm around him, walking back toward the reception. “Not what I’ve heard. Our friend secretly enjoys dancing with true death.”
“House Vengeance and Malice Isle as a united front.” Envy shuddered at the thought. “Work your charm before we all live to regret it. If you’re not amenable, maybe we can convince Wolf to seduce her. Hell, maybe she’ll even keep the shifter, Fae, and vampire.”
“Look at you, scheming already.” Lust snorted. “This is why you’re my favorite brother.”
Camilla stepped into the hall, took one look at the brothers, and shook her head.
“Whatever you’re plotting, stop.” She leveled a cold look at Envy and his gods-damned desire for her flared. “I mean it. No games tonight.”
Envy’s mouth curved wickedly.
Oh, there would be games.
Tonight, however, he’d keep them in the bedroom.
Right where his cunning little fiancée liked them.
Envy and Lust entered the throne room behind Camilla, the party well underway. Emerald-encrusted trays towering with Dark and Sinfuls made the rounds, while a central fountain of demonberry wine cascaded in a dark, glittering wave down a tower and into hundreds of coupe glasses. House Envy twirled across the checkered dance floor.
Lust went to flirt with a demon near the shellfish table, where platters were laden with pearl-like delicacies and other oceanic marvels.
Envy stood in the shadows a moment after waving his brother off.
He chuckled when he saw Bunny, rubbing around Wrath’s legs. The General of War glanced around quickly before scrubbing behind Bunny’s ears, earning an amused look from Emilia at her husband’s new friend.
Envy caught a flash of silver, winding its way around the crowd, heading toward the dais. His heart stuttered a beat as Camilla climbed the steps and slowly twisted, her gaze finding his across the room. Her mouth curved as she sat on his throne, her expression a wonderful, taunting promise of what was to come.
Later, after the last guest had gone, once the last drink had been drunk, Envy would take her in his arms, dancing her around the throne room.
Then he’d make all her fantasies come true.
