Throne of the Fallen

His tone hardened. “This look is exactly why I haven’t told anyone. I am not yet defeated, Camilla. Do not pity me.”

She bared her teeth, a lovely little feral animal hiding behind her pretty, cultured smile.

“I don’t pity you. I’m simply trying to make sense of your story.”

“Truth for truth.” His attention sharpened on her. “Time for you to share with me, Miss Antonius.”

Camilla pointed to the carvings.

“I believe the scales here represent Libra. These circles are the sun and moon. The sun sits on one scale and the moon on the other. They’re equal in size, but the moon is lower, heavier.”

She dropped her finger to an intriguing creature.

“At first, I thought this was simply a stylized satyr, but look closely. The legs and horns of a goat are likely a depiction of Pan.” She dragged her finger across a series of dots and lines. “This half-goat, half-fish also symbolizes the sea goat.”

“And a sea goat relates how?”

“Simply put, this geometric design is the constellation Capricornus. Pan standing beside it is the biggest indication.”

She followed the carvings up—past what looked like crude depictions of evergreen branches to the top, where a sword dripped blood, a crescent moon shadowed on its blade.

“This is basically a carved set of instructions on how to activate the pillar.”

A chill caressed his spine. “Camilla… you’re brilliant.”

He went to prick his finger, but she stopped him.

“Not your blood. Mine.” She nodded at the pillar. “The symbols all indicate a date. The evergreens, the constellations, the moon. Everything represents the winter solstice. The longest night.”

“What does that have to do with you?”

Something flickered in her expression. “It’s my birthday.”

He sensed a partial lie. “The date can vary for mortals—”

“We’re not in the mortal realm.”

“But the Pillars were carved thousands of years ago. By your own admission you weren’t born then.”

“Envy…”

Something in her tone made the skin along Envy’s spine prickle.

“There’s something I—”

A deep rumble shook the ground, splintering the marble floor. They were almost out of time. Envy flashed a grim smile. “Now, Miss Antonius. Whatever you have to say—let it wait.”

A war raged behind her gaze. “It shouldn’t be delayed. You really ought to—”

Another crack split the floor near the mouth of the cavern. She flinched.

“We don’t have the luxury of time, Camilla. Activate the Pillars, quickly, now.”

She looked torn, but finally heeded out of necessity.

Once they made it through the next several hours, Envy might consider the possibility of breaking the rules he’d set for himself so long ago. Because he knew where they were headed next: the Wild Court.

Maybe if he could face his own demons there, he could pursue Camilla after all.

Because, truth for truth, Envy would have to admit: one night hadn’t nearly been enough.

He was starting to want much more.

Not starting. He wanted more before she’d ever left his side.

And with the game nearly won, perhaps he could have it all.

“When you’re ready,” he said, handing her his House dagger, hilt first. “Let’s end this.”

FIFTY-NINE

CAMILLA’S NERVES TWISTED into intricate knots as she took his dagger, wondering how they’d gotten here, stuck in this tangled web of deceit. She went over the events of the last several weeks, searching for a different choice she could have made.

Why hadn’t she tried talking to him then?

She knew. Of course. Fear.

Her father had told her repeatedly that fear was the one force that drove all darkness in the world. Love, on the other hand, was the greatest source of power. Love strengthened the weakest, gave them a ferocity that fear never offered. Mothers defended their children. Partners, friends, good people stared down evil, becoming something to be feared.

Because of love.

Yet love wasn’t the path Camilla had chosen. She’d succumbed to that same mortal trap.

Change was terrifying. The unknown always was. It was the very essence of its being unknown that made it so. The familiar was comforting even when it wasn’t necessarily good.

She recognized instantly what she’d seen in the prince’s face.

Knew it intimately herself.

Fear flashed in Envy’s eyes. It hadn’t been from the strange rumble of warning cracking the ground under their feet. His fear had meant something else. A look so unsettling she realized she’d never seen it on his face before. And Camilla wondered if he knew. Even if he hadn’t admitted it to himself.

Maybe he was afraid of being right. Of what it would mean. Perhaps this was one last game he was playing with her, the game of denial. To acknowledge the truth meant accepting change. Neither one of them seemed ready for it.

Change was terrifying but necessary. Especially now.

She wished she could save him from any hurt she’d unintentionally caused. She hadn’t known what he would come to mean to her. Not really.