Throne of the Fallen

They were currently sprawled on top of his sheets, her legs tangled up with his, his fingers stroking the length of her arms, as he considered what had gone wrong.

Late-morning sunlight slanted into the room, signaling that their night had been over hours before. It was well past the time he’d normally feel sated.

Camilla pressed a kiss to his palm, then rolled to face him.

“It’s morning.”

His attention flicked to hers, amusement lacing his tone. “I do comprehend what the sun indicates, pet.”

Her gaze narrowed. “We need to get out of bed.”

He pulled her on top of him, nuzzling her neck.

“Soon.”

Camilla kissed him, softly at first, then succumbed to the gentle tease of his tongue against the seam of her lips. He was hard again, ready. They could definitely spare another hour before they left. He’d clearly deprived himself of carnal pleasures for too long. It was the most reasonable explanation for his thirst for her.

She pushed herself up, bracing against his torso.

“It’s time to get up, Envy. We need to go to the Twin Pillars.”

He gave her an annoyed look. “It’s Envy again, is it?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” she challenged. “Did you expect something else?”

He raked a hand over his face. “No.”

“Lie.”

He looked her over. “Fae cannot sense lies like demons can.”

“Perhaps not, but I can read your face well enough by now.” She scrutinized him much too closely. “You’re not satisfied.”

“Incorrect. I am much too satisfied. Hence the issue.”

Camilla didn’t speak for a long moment, the tension growing uncomfortably thick as she stared down at him. It would have been less irksome if his cock hadn’t been twitching against her body every time her gaze flicked over him.

“We agreed to one night,” she finally said. “Is that something you want to renegotiate?”

“Of course not.” Envy sat up, carefully lifting her and setting her down on the bed. “I’ll never break my rule, Miss Antonius. Don’t confuse my arousal for romance. I simply enjoy your tight, wet cunt.”

She sucked in a sharp breath, her eyes flaring with challenge.

He knew he’d gone too far.

“We’ll see, then, won’t we.” Her smile was pure malice. “I’m sure you’ll be completely unaffected if I should run into Wolf again. Perhaps I’ll allow him to enjoy my tight, wet cunt for the rest of our long, immortal lives. At least he doesn’t act like one.”

His jealousy ignited in a blaze.

Before he could call her back, apologize, Camilla stormed into his bathing chamber, grabbing the new dress he’d magicked for her on the way.

She slammed the door hard enough to rattle the portrait on his ceiling. The one she’d eyed with mirth instead of lust earlier.

Envy fell back onto the bed, cursing. He was a miserable prick.

It had been hours since Envy had been inside Camilla, an hour since their fight, and the craving still hadn’t abated. If anything, it had worsened. Especially after he relived each of their encounters, his mind pausing when she’d suggested they move to his throne.

He knew exactly what that had been about, and she’d been correct. Envy would never sit on it again without picturing her round little bottom bouncing with each thrust, silver hair gleaming like the dagger it was, aimed straight to his heart.

She’d skewered him with her cunning. She’d owned him on his damn throne.

And he liked it.

Camilla was dangerous. She made Envy want things he shouldn’t.

After she’d left him hard and wanting in bed, all but calling him the cunt he’d been, he reminded himself of the game. His goal.

His court.

And the mistake he’d made that continued to punish him.

He needed to move on from their night. Focus.

Perhaps Camilla was the ultimate test.

If Envy didn’t win, he would no longer have a court.

And that would be exactly the sort of thing Lennox would want. To first see the vampire court in chaos, quickly followed by Envy’s circle falling.

No matter what conflicted feelings he felt at the moment, Envy wouldn’t lose sight of his goal now.

Which was why they were now standing in the antechamber of a throne room that didn’t belong to him, awaiting entry.

He slanted a look in Camilla’s direction. She stood beside him, spine straight, keeping her attention on the double doors, probably admiring the carvings. She’d worn Envy’s House colors without argument, even after the frustrating end to their night.

The gown he’d magicked was deep hunter-green silk bordering on black. It showed more skin than the styles she was used to in the mortal realm, but she never seemed put off by that.

Modesty was coveted by humans, but she shed that easily, adapting to her surroundings and true Fae nature.

In fact, the longer she remained in the Seven Circles, the less the societal restraints of Waverly Green seemed to hold her prisoner. She would thrive in his world, should she choose to stay and stop pretending she was something less than. But Envy wasn’t sure how well he’d react, knowing she was close by, likely falling for someone else. It was selfish, given that he would never invite her to his bed again. Still…