Kingdom of the Cursed (Kingdom of the Wicked, #2)

“I…”

I stepped away from him, giving us both much-needed distance and considered my next words with care. I felt as if I were losing my grip on reality. Concern slipped into his features, so I did my best to pull in that prideful feeling again. To wield it to my advantage.

I purposely dropped my focus to his trousers; there was no longer any sign of attraction or lust. Apparently, my distraction hadn’t gone unnoticed.

I offered him a cutting smile. “It seems our lesson is over.”

Before my mask slipped, I spun on my heel and headed out the door. Something strange was occurring. And it seemed to happen whenever Wrath and I were in passionate situations.

If they were memories and not illusions created from this realm… then I might have discovered another one of Wrath’s secrets. Except I had no idea how any of it could be possible.

But I was damn well going to find out.





TWENTY-SIX


Snowflakes danced wickedly outside my window.

Frost crept up the panes like wintery vines. I sat on the wide sill, staring out at a world blanketed in a fresh layer of snow. Night was quickly falling, tinging everything deep shades of blue. Two days had come and gone since I last saw the prince of this circle. I’d been avoiding him after the vision, still unsure if it was memory or fantasy. It had to be something the realm conjured, but it felt so real it was difficult to shake off.

The Matron of Curses and Poisons hadn’t yet returned, and I did not want to confide in anyone what I’d seen or experienced. I’d been hoping she could create a tonic or might know of any magic that would unlock the truth hidden inside me.

If it had been a memory, then I’d been to this realm before. And Wrath and I… I couldn’t fathom how he’d pretended to not know me back in Palermo. There were times there, though, I wondered how he knew details I hadn’t shared. Like where I lived. My name. I’d comforted myself by thinking it had something to do with what I’d thought was his rebirth spell—that night I’d been attacked by the Viperidae, we’d been inside each other’s minds for brief seconds.

Was that what was happening now? It was possible I was seeing into his memories, witnessing him with someone else. Maybe I was experiencing the world through her eyes, reliving her memories. I knew demons could possess people, but I’d never heard of a witch doing the same. At this point, nothing would surprise me.

I’d spent the better part of the last two days trying to decipher all possible meanings. No theory was too silly. I wrote everything down. From thinking Wrath might be Pride, to considering if I was the First Witch, cursed to forget as punishment for what I’d done.

After a while, details started to blur, confusing me more. I couldn’t recall if I’d seen Wrath’s face, or if it was just an impression I’d had of him.

I remembered the room being dark in the vision, the sounds of a distant party, but couldn’t remember the sound of my lover’s voice. If he’d sworn loudly when he found his release, or if it had been a murmur. And if it wasn’t Wrath with me in the vision…

I exhaled, my breath creating clouds on the windowpane. That complicated matters even more. When I arrived at the feast tonight, I might recognize the lover from that memory. If we danced together, would that unlock other memories that had been secreted away?

I slipped from the window’s edge and leafed through the notes I’d made from the enchanted skulls. Past, present, future, find. I’d thought it was referencing the Triple Moon Mirror Envy was after. Now I wondered if it encompassed more than that.

Were those visions part of my past, or my future? If they were images of the future, perhaps it related to the prophecy. The part where I could set right a terrible wrong.

When I’d been under Lust’s influence, I’d had that impression of choice, balance. That I could damn everyone, or make something right. But what?

I kept circling back to the devil’s slain bride. Could falling in love be the key to breaking the curse? On the surface it seemed simple. But it wasn’t. I’d need to fall madly in love with Pride. And to accomplish that, I’d have to end my betrothal to Wrath for good.

“Goddess help me, this is a disaster.”

Pride would be at the feast. If he’d been the mysterious lover in my vision, and if it was part of the past and not the future, it was entirely possible neither one of us would be able to deny the sizzling connection in person. Which frightened me.

If it was the past I saw… then that would mean I was already Pride’s wife. Maybe to break the curse I had to fall in love with him all over again, without any memories of us.

A theory so outlandish, it just might be true. Which could be the real reason Pride hadn’t invited me to his circle. Maybe it went deeper than my accidental betrothal to Wrath.

Without knowing what I’d done, maybe I’d broken Pride’s heart and damned them all by choosing the wrong brother. It would also explain Wrath’s hatred when I first summoned him and he demanded I reverse the spell before it was too late.

A knock on my outer door drew me from my reverie. “Come in.”

Harlow bobbed a quick curtsy, then held a dress bag aloft. “The cobbler will have your shoes ready shortly. Did you want me to lay out the gown for you?”

“Please.”

Through all of my worries, I’d completely lost track of time. We’d be traveling to House Gluttony within the hour. This evening marked the first of three nights dedicated to the Feast of the Wolf, an event I’d rather avoid if not for the potential information I could gather. Thinking about having my greatest fear ripped from me caused my heart rate to triple, though.