Throne of the Fallen

“Two brilliant little fools. More mortal than Fae in spirit.” Lennox nodded. “What trouble might this stir? Leading your courts… or will they lead you? Chaos.”

He considered Ayden’s offer. Then he looked at Envy again.

A slow, saccharine smile curved his mouth.

“My daughter will stay here. With me. The Wild Court could use fresh royal blood. Give me her locket.”

He motioned to a male standing near the dais, one of his personal guards, with a piece of iron piercing his nose. A sign of strength. Of his power. And his penchant for enjoying pain.

Camilla clasped her mother’s locket in her hand, backing away. “This belongs to me.”

Lennox gave her a dark smile.

“Your mother stole it from my coffers before she stole you, too. The locket is mine. And I’ve gone to a lot of trouble to get it back.”

Camilla inhaled sharply, still holding on to the locket as the guard approached. He held a hand out, eyes glittering with challenge. She didn’t hand it over. But he didn’t seem to care.

He sliced the metal from her neck, then brought the prize to his king. Lennox closed his fingers around it, a strange, silver light emanating from his closed fist. Camilla hadn’t known the locket held that kind of power, had been told it repelled Unseelie males.

It worked against Wolf, but the king was different, she supposed.

Had that truly been what Lennox was after all this time—not Camilla, but her locket?

Lennox glanced up, as if he’d forgotten he had an audience. He waved a hand dismissively. “Get the demon’s prize. Send him on his way.”

Lennox flicked his hand toward another member of the court.

Wolf stepped out from behind a tangle of Unseelies, his pale yellow eyes gleaming.

“Claim your prize, Wolf.”

Wolf looked Camilla over, his perusal long and lingering. “With pleasure.”

Unseelie chittered and laughed, delighted by the charged look Wolf gave her.

She kept her reaction perfectly bland.

Once upon a time, he’d been sent to Waverly Green with an invitation for her to return to the Wild Court. She’d refused, of course, but their night together had changed everything.

His expression was as rakish as ever as he slowly dragged his attention over Camilla again. Wolf would never cross any unforgivable lines, but he’d play the part the court expected in public. She knew this was only an act. But Envy didn’t know that.

She sensed him beside her, a storm of barely leashed jealousy whipping below the surface. Envy hated her, might never wish to speak to her again, but his sin was still provoked.

Wolf didn’t appear to notice he was needling him. The Fae strolled down the dais, gaze locked on her. “Let’s get you naked and wet, Princess.”

“I’ll bathe on my own,” she said, knowing what he’d meant.

Wolf did notice Envy’s coiled violence. Was continuing to provoke him.

Camilla recalled the way Envy had fought at the vampire court, knew it wouldn’t end well for anyone if he finally snapped. One glance at Lennox and she realized that was exactly what he was hoping for, had set into motion. Chaos and discord were his happiest melodies.

And he’d played them all.

He wanted Wolf to bait Envy. Wanted an excuse to delay giving the demon his prize.

“Congratulations on your win, Prince Envy,” Lennox said, tone far too innocent. “Unless you’d like to stay and watch our little show, get out.”

The iron-pierced Fae went to usher Envy out, and the demon exploded.

In a movement that was almost too fast to see, the guard flew across the room, landing at the Unseelie King’s feet, his arm and leg bent in the wrong direction.

“You broke my commander,” Lennox said, no emotion in his voice.

An inhuman growl sounded from Envy’s throat. “Don’t push me, Lennox.”

Wolf didn’t retreat, but he stopped walking toward Camilla.

The king eyed Envy speculatively, then shrugged. “You appear more road-weary than I thought. Allow me to make amends. A guest suite will be prepared if you’d prefer to stay and watch the fun.”

With a flick of his wrist, Lennox dismissed them all, the party and chaos once again taking over the night.

Camilla looked at Envy, but the demon turned on his heel and strode after another guard.

She knew no tears or pleading would make a difference.

She was the daughter of his greatest enemy. And Envy would never forgive her for that.

This game had been about getting Camilla back to Faerie from its inception, and Envy’s court had paid a steep price for that.

If there had been any flicker of hope of his forgiving her, that ember had died.

SIXTY-TWO

ENVY’S RAGE BALANCED on a knife’s edge, one step away from razing the whole Wild Court. A vast dichotomy split inside him, separating two warring halves directly down the middle.

One side was betrayal made flesh. Cold, unyielding.

An ancient hurt that knew no beginning and no ending. It was a snarling, two-headed beast that wanted to strike out, inflict pain. Tear and gorge and decimate. Like the wolves inked onto his skin, the monsters he kept on a tight leash wanted retribution.

Camilla had played the ultimate game, and he’d had no idea.