A tear slipped free as I leaned into the blade, using my upper body weight to shove through muscle and bone. I watched with blazing fury as it slid into his chest. Blood poured from the wound, stained his shirt, made my fingers slick. I didn’t pull it out. I twisted the dagger, gritting my teeth before I screamed loud enough to summon Satan himself.
The demon prince watched impassively as I yanked the blade free and stabbed him again.
And again.
And again.
EIGHTEEN
Wrath removed all influence over me at once.
I stared at the blade sticking out of the demon’s chest, my whole body violently trembling in the aftermath. Nausea coursed through me in place of the rage I’d just felt. I let go of the weapon and jerked back, unable to look away. There was so much blood. Wrath’s blood.
It bloomed obscenely across his white shirt like a flower of death. And if it had been anyone else, they would be dead. I would have killed them. I dragged in breath after breath, the weight of what could have been, of what I did, nearly crushing me.
Wrath wrenched the dagger from his chest and tossed it away. I flinched as it clattered against the far wall, the only sound in the chamber now aside from my ragged breaths. He’d made me stab him. In the heart. I… I couldn’t stop looking at the place I’d shoved the dagger in. Couldn’t stop hearing the sickening crunch of bone as I pierced his chest. I fought to keep my hands at my sides, to not cover my ears and scream until that wretched sound ceased in my head.
The wound was already healed, but his shirt was damp with blood. Memories of another chest, another heart, flooded my senses. My twin. All I could envision was her brutalized body. How easily it could have been her under my blade. Fighting back had been useless.
I turned my hands over, sticky, bloodstained palms up, and cried, “How dare you? How dare you subject me to that depravity?”
“Yes, how dare I teach my wife to protect herself against her enemies.”
“I am not your wife yet. And if this is your idea of proving why we ought to marry, you’re mad. You are the most despicable creature I’ve ever had the misfortune to know.”
“If that were true, I would have left you as Lust had when I released you from my thrall.”
The demon thrust a dressing gown at me. I hadn’t seen him holding it before, but I hadn’t noticed much of anything aside from the sins he’d wanted me to experience.
I was seeing plenty now.
His expression was the closest thing to murder I’d ever witnessed. As if his little power display infuriated him more than it had me. As if that were even possible.
I’d pierced his heart with a dagger. I’d never been so upset in my life. And I’d felt a lot of angry emotions since my twin’s murder.
I snatched the dressing robe and shoved my arms through it, hating him for knowing I would need it. I also understood with vivid clarity why he wore white. His preparation for the training made me seethe all the more. It indicated he knew exactly what sins he’d use, what he’d influence me to do, and he’d thought ahead to what I’d need after his little power display.
I was tempted to stride back to my bedroom suite in my underwear, or strip down to nothing. Let his court see me in all my glory.
“Be my guest.” He no doubt discerned my thoughts from my body language. He swung an arm out. “If you’d prefer to walk around without the robe, I certainly won’t object.”
“You really should quit speaking now.”
“Make me.”
“Don’t tempt me, demon.”
“Do it.” He moved until he towered over me. “Use your power. Fight back.”
Childish taunt. I dipped into my source of magic, trying to wrench a bit of power up to knock him on his smart ass. A wall of nothing greeted me again. I was so frustrated, I wanted to scream. Wrath’s eyes narrowed, missing nothing.
“We will train every day until the Feast of the Wolf. You will learn to protect yourself from my brothers. Or you will suffer greater indignities than the ones I have demonstrated today. Be thankful, fiancée, that I do not wish to harm your person. Only your ego and pride. Both, if I am not mistaken, can be repaired.”
“You made me stab you.”
“I heal fast.”
Too bad the emotional impact of today’s little lesson wouldn’t heal as quickly. I cinched the belt at my waist. “I despise you.”
“I can live with your hate.” A muscle in his jaw flickered. “Far better to use it to your advantage, rather than adore me and succumb to the depravity of this world.”
“Why violence?” My voice was quiet. “You did not need to unleash my wrath that way.”
“I offered you an outlet. Vengeance is poison, a slow death of self. Seek justice. Seek truth. But if you choose revenge over all else, you will lose more than your soul.”
“You cannot seriously be claiming to care about my soul.”
“Your grief cannot be extinguished through hatred. Tell me, do you feel as you imagined? Did spilling my blood heal your wounds? Have those scales of justice finally tipped into balance, or did you slip a little further into something you don’t recognize?”
I set my jaw and glared. We both knew I did not feel better. If anything, I felt worse.
“I didn’t think so.” He turned on his heel and strode toward the door. “I will meet you here tomorrow evening.”
“I never agreed to multiple training sessions.”
“Nor did you set parameters during our bargain. I suggest you come prepared to do battle, or you will find yourself once again in your underthings, on your hands and knees before me, begging. Or stabbing. Or both.”
I reined in my emotions. Wrath was currently a giant ass, but he was never impulsive. “Does the timing of this first lesson have to do with my visiting House Envy?”
“No.” Wrath did not turn back, but he paused before opening the door. “Votes to choose the guest of honor for the Feast of the Wolf were cast yesterday.”
And there it was. He must have hoped someone more interesting would have emerged to take my place. “You still believe I’ll be chosen.”
“Of that I have little doubt.”