Wrath held me against his body without giving any quarter. I bucked against him, wild with fury that was spiraling beyond control. In the back of my mind, I knew my reaction was extreme, but I had lost the ability to see reason.
All I could see was red.
The red of anger and the crimson of my twin’s blood, puddled on the hard ground. Staining my hands as I slipped over it and lost any remaining sense of peace I’d know. Now I would take from him until he had nothing left. Until he met Vittoria’s same fate. I’d rip his damned heart from his chest with my teeth if I had to.
Antonio dropped the book and pressed himself deep into the chair, his eyes wide. The only thing standing between him and a vicious attack was the demon. Irony was located in there.
“Do you recall what I said about your anger, my lady?”
The prince’s low voice held a hint of teasing that doused the blazing inferno of rage. The fight left my body, only to be replaced by a different sort of tension.
Without letting me go, Wrath maneuvered us out into the corridor and kicked the door shut behind us. He carefully set me on my feet, my back against the cool stone, his arms casually placed on either side of my body.
A glimmer of amusement shone in his eyes as I leveled a glare at him.
“Master your temper, or we’ll attempt this again tomorrow.”
“This was a test.”
“You’re failing miserably.”
Like he surmised I would. I inhaled deeply through my nose, then exhaled through my mouth. Just as he’d done the night we fought over the enchanted skulls. I repeated the exercise twice more before my emotions settled. “I’m calm now.”
The corner of his mouth kicked up. “I find it fascinating that you continue to lie to my face, knowing full well I can sense each untruth. Rage makes for messy battle strategies. If you cannot control your fury, you risk getting hurt.”
“Fine. I’m calmer. Though not for long if you keep poking at me.”
“That creates quite the mental imagery.”
And just as he’d intended, I was suddenly no longer thinking of murder, anger, or rage. A new pulse pounded through me that had little to do with my heart. My attention dropped to his wicked lips, noting the tantalizing curve of them. He hadn’t used an ounce of magic or influence. This lust-filled emotion belonged only to me. And this realm and our provocative marriage bond.
Or maybe he wasn’t the only one whose anger swiftly turned into passion.
Maybe it was an aphrodisiac for me, too. “You’re wholly inappropriate.”
“Lie.” Wrath moved slowly, placing his body flush against mine. The physical contact was a welcome distraction from the anger still simmering inside me. I focused on the demon, on the heat not originating in fury. “I am your intended. And a living embodiment of sin, as you once called me. A certain amount of inappropriate behavior should be expected. Especially when the future princess of House Wrath is so appealing.”
“You are a heathen. I just tried to murder a man.”
“Precisely.” He pressed his lips to my cheek. “Are you ready to try again?”
“To murder him?”
“I suggest talking, but you are free, as always, to choose your path.”
“Murder, or at least a good thrashing, then.”
“Try.” Challenge rang in the single word. “We’ll just end up out here again.”
As if that was a deterrent. “You trust me?”
“It’s more important for you to trust yourself.” He pushed back from the wall. “Only you can decide how to move forward. What would you like to do?”
Dangerous question. I would like to open the murderer from gut to gullet and watch his stinking, steaming entrails spill across the floor. That answer wouldn’t get me back inside. And, no matter how I’d felt moments before, I did not want to become someone I could no longer respect. Murdering a man, even one who’d violently killed my twin, would only put me on his level. Which was why Wrath had made me take the dagger to him the other night.
I knew how it felt, hurting someone. Blood would not stain my hands. Today.
Wrath waited silently, giving me time and space to decide my next move. His expression was perfectly bland, offering no judgment. No hint to his inner thoughts.
I rolled my shoulders, releasing the tension. “I’m ready to ask him about my sister.”
“Emilia.” Antonio jumped to his feet. “It’s good to see you.”
His tone indicated what he actually meant was “It’s good to see you no longer snarling and kicking like a rabid beast trying to rip out my throat.”
This meeting was young, though. There was still time for snarling and snapping. The leash I’d put on myself was already slipping. I did not return his tentative smile. Just because I’d decided against gutting him did not mean we would ever be friends again.
I moved carefully into the small tower chamber, feeling Wrath close behind. His trust only went so far, apparently. Smart demon.
“Is it? I would imagine initially it was like staring into the face of one of your victims. Only to discover they weren’t dead after all.”
There was a beat of silence that fell awkwardly between us.
“I cannot… words and apologies will never be enough to make up for what I did to you.”
“What you did to Vittoria.”
“O-of course.” His throat bobbed. I almost believed the emotion was real. “I’ve been taking a tonic.” He indicated the steaming mug on the small table. “The matron is talented with breaking enchantments.”
I paused in the center of the room. Wrath was a shadow looming in my periphery. “Is that what you’re claiming now? Magic was the true villain, not your hatred?”
Antonio watched me closely as he settled back onto his chair, his gaze never once straying to the demon prince behind me. He did not know I was unable to use magic, that my threats were all bark and no bite. His fear did something to me. Made me want to strike harder.
“Do you recall my trip to the village? Where they claimed a goddess was feasting with wolves in the spirit realm, and teaching them ways to protect themselves from evil?”
“Let me guess.” My tone turned frosty. “You’re claiming a goddess actually descended upon that village and was the one who cursed you?”