“We do wear wolf masks, but there will be no panting from me. Unless you ask nicely.”
I swallowed hard, forcing my thoughts away from where this realm—and this troublesome prince—was tugging them. “You didn’t answer my first question. Why are you telling me about this now?”
“You’ve been nominated for the guest of honor.” The remaining humor left his face. “The vote takes place next month. I have little doubt you’re going to be chosen. Your arrival is the talk of the Seven Circles. I doubt anyone else will be half as intriguing this Blood Season.”
Wonderful. “Will I be forced to kill the goat?”
Wrath held my gaze. “There is no goat, Emilia.”
The way he said it made my knees buckle. “Will I be the sacrifice?”
“No.” Relief flooded through me at that one beautiful little word. “Your biggest fear or a secret of your heart will be wrenched from you as the sacrifice.”
“No.” My voice was whisper soft, trembling. I hated it.
“Yes.” His voice was hard, edged. I hated it, too. “And it will happen in front of every prince of Hell and all of our subjects in attendance. Fear is power here. The larger your fear, the greater the power you give us. You would be far better off sacrificing your life. If they take your biggest fear, I promise you will wish for something as swift and final as a mortal’s death.”
SEVEN
“No. I refuse.” My voice was steel this time. “You said I always have a choice.”
Frost coated his expression. “From recent actions, I was starting to think you’d forgotten that conversation.”
“You want to discuss what happened back in the cave now?”
“Not particularly, no.”
“We’re going to have to eventually—we might as well do it now.”
“Fine.” He crossed his arms against his chest. “You may start by explaining your decision.”
He spoke as if I actually had a choice, his voice tinged with barely suppressed anger. I was so surprised, I stepped back, examining him carefully. A muscle flickered in his jaw and his gaze was hard enough to make diamonds jealous. Wrath wasn’t just angry, he was incensed. I could practically feel the heat of his fury radiating in the space between us.
Clarity washed over me. “You wanted me to refuse Pride.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.” For once, his emotions were written all over his face. My shock quickly gave way to annoyance. If only he’d confided in me that night, things would be so much different. We could have come up with a new plan. Together. Anger unleashed my tongue. “Tell me why. I demand to know why you wanted me to refuse him.”
“Stop pushing, Emilia. This conversation is done.”
“No, it’s really not. Will he hurt me?”
The shelves nearest us vibrated. “Do you believe I’d permit that?”
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “I don’t know what’s real or fantasy or part of your newest scheme. You brought me here, to this realm, to marry your brother.”
“Do not confuse your choices with my actions.”
As if I had any good options. “Was I supposed to stay home and watch demons tear my world apart? Murder or torture my family and friends and continue ripping hearts from witches? You keep alluding to the fact I had a choice, but I didn’t.”
“You always have choice.”
“Not with the clock ticking down and the gates cracking. Signing the contract with Pride was my best option to stop the carnage. I made a decision with the information I had. If I made a mistake or if you’re not pleased—for whatever reason—maybe you should have actually talked to me that night. Instead you stood there, cold and furious, and didn’t say a word!”
His gold eyes narrowed. “Has it occurred to you that I couldn’t?”
“Couldn’t what? Talk to me?”
“Interfere.”
“Through magic or a demon edict?” I searched his face, but he’d replaced his annoyance with that emotionless mask he wore so well. I reined in my temper, not wanting to fight. “I thought the devil was the only one who’s cursed. Are you implying that’s not true? Is there something I need to know about you?”
His hands flexed at his sides. He looked like he wanted to rush away to a sparring ring and work off his frustration. “Perhaps that’s a question you should have asked your mortal family. They certainly seem to have selective gaps in their storytelling. Have you ever wondered why, witch?”
“How dare you speak of my family—”
He magicked himself away in a cloud of smoke, leaving me reeling with confusion. My family wasn’t keeping any secrets. Nonna shared stories all of our lives about the Wicked and their lies and manipulations. She warned against the dark arts and the payments demanded from that type of magic. All of that was true.
I paced the aisle of books. Wrath was wrong or he was lying or omitting more truth. Nonna told us about the blood debt between the First Witch—La Prima Strega—and the devil, about how he demanded a blood sacrifice for something that was stolen from him.
The Horn of Hades, the two amulets my sister and I had been given at birth, turned out to be those objects. His horns. Wrath collected them the night he brought me Pride’s contract. He’d used them to lock the gates of Hell, just as he’d promised, then hidden them from me.
Fury rose in me but quickly gave way to confusion. Nonna had known about Star Witches and the devil’s horns and she hadn’t told us.
I’d found out about the horns through my sister’s diary, and Star Witches from Wrath and Envy, though that wasn’t the name they’d used. Envy had called me a Shadow Witch.
Nonna didn’t admit to knowing about either right away when I’d confronted her.