Throne of the Fallen

Envy realized she was all too pleased to annoy her husband—his anger would be taken out in the bedroom, where they both could enjoy it. He only hoped they waited until after Envy and Camilla left their circle.

“I do recall saying it sounded ominous,” Emilia said. “But I cannot give you my favor just yet. My husband and I will discuss the matter and send for you once we reach an agreement.”

Wrath’s nostrils flared with his sin. He did not want to permit Envy to use the tunnel, but Emilia was not a submissive partner. They could be arguing for hours. And the bastard would enjoy every glorious second of it.

“There’s a bedroom suite set up with refreshments for you,” Wrath said.

With a jerk of his chin, the king of demons dismissed them.

Hours later, with still no word from his gods-damned brother, Envy was practically crawling up the walls. Camilla sat perched on the end of a settee, sipping tea, lips curved in obvious delight.

Envy shot her an exasperated look.

“Am I amusing, Miss Antonius?”

“Wildly so.”

“Glad to be a diversion,” he muttered, feeling downright ornery.

“I can think of more stimulating ways to pass the time.”

Envy drew up short, breath catching.

One look at Camilla confirmed she was playing with him, testing the truth of his one-night rule. He paced around the perimeter of the room, jaw locked.

Now that she’d said it, he couldn’t stop thinking about all the stimulating ways they’d distracted each other last night and a few hours ago this morning.

His frustration grew. He damn well should not be considering touching her again. Ever.

“You are twisted, pet.”

“What can I say?” Amusement laced her tone. “You bring out the very best in me.”

He expelled a breath, part huff, part laughter. The problem wasn’t his one-night rule, the issue was that Envy liked Camilla. Far beyond her body. Her clever mind, her wit… she challenged him in ways that stimulated his need to solve riddles, to strategize. To win.

And now she was using those same tactics to toy with him.

“Fuck.”

Envy caught his reflection in a mirror hanging between two towering shelves of weapons. His eyes were bright, cheeks flushed, and his hair was a complete and utter mess. He’d raked his hand through it so many times he looked on the verge of madness.

Or maybe he looked feverish.

“That was the suggestion,” Camilla mocked, her tone silky.

His eyes squeezed shut. He wondered what he’d done to deserve such sweet and vicious punishment. This new game Camilla was playing was downright dirty.

John Lyly, a mortal author of the 1500s, once wrote, “The rules of fair play do not apply in love and war,” making Envy believe he must have battled Camilla at one time.

The poor bastard never stood a chance.

Finally, a sharp knock came at the door.

Envy almost wrenched the door from its hinges as he tugged it open.

Instead of a royal guard or servant, Emilia stood there, brow arched high.

“Are you all right?” she asked, dropping her voice to a whisper.

“Do I still have your favor or not, Emilia? Time is one thing I cannot steal more of.”

She pressed her lips together, rose-gold eyes studying him carefully. He knew she was concerned, that she’d sensed there was more happening below the surface. His sister-in-law always seemed to see through some of his masks. But not all.

He kept his expression impassive, waiting. Camilla came to stand beside him, and he fought the urge to reach for her hand. Emilia’s gaze fixed on him before she nodded.

“Yes. You still have my favor.”

Her rose-gold gaze shifted to Camilla. Something soft flashed in her expression, something that looked like hope. Or perhaps happiness.

“I grant permission for you to seek out the Pillars.”

“You’ve always been my favorite sister-in-law.”

“I’m your only sister-in-law.” She rolled her eyes. “But… Wrath had one condition that wasn’t negotiable.”

Envy’s smile froze on his face. He knew, before she twisted the knife, what his meddling, gods-damned brother would have demanded.

“You must use the path that cuts through the Crescent Shallows.”

Envy silently called his brother every cursed, foul name he could think of. In every language he spoke. Twice. The Crescent Shallows were precisely what he’d wanted to avoid.

The water was magical—it forced whomever entered it to speak only the truth.

Nothing made could enter the water without causing death. Which included clothing. Envy would need to wade into the magical water nude with Camilla. And if she asked any question, he’d be compelled to offer truth.

As if this journey weren’t hard enough.

Emilia clasped Envy’s hands in hers, squeezing gently.

“Don’t be an ass to your lady. Or there will be no more cannoli in your future.”

He scoffed but didn’t remark. They had been delicious. And he couldn’t deny liking that Camilla was seen as his. Even if it was fleeting, or untrue.

Emilia smiled warmly at Camilla.

“I hope to see you again, Camilla. Next time we’ll leave the demons to brood and battle on their own.”

“That sounds wonderful; I look forward to it.”