Kingdom of the Feared (Kingdom of the Wicked, #3)

“I’m ready,” I said, meaning it.

Over these last few weeks, Wrath had been showing me how to control my emotions. To see past my fury. That was the lesson he’d taught me the night he’d forced me to stab him, the night he’d said was about sensing other sins and combating them. Yes, learning to steel myself against pride, greed, and lust had been important. But all along, Wrath knew what House of Sin I ruled over, knew how potently my desire for vengeance could grow.

Until I’d stabbed him that night, I would have continued down a path in which I craved blood. And he’d been right—I didn’t wish to admit it then, but I hated hurting him in that moment. Hated that loss of control, that overwhelming feeling of only being driven by my rage. I ruled over that emotion, and I would not allow it to rule over me.

In the throne room with the vampire emissary and Sursea, my rage had nearly taken over then, too. But it didn’t. I could not rely on Wrath or anyone else to pull me from that dark place again. It had to come from me. Stalling myself from unleashing my full power any longer would only ensure one thing: I’d fail by not trying.

Fear would hold me back. But faith in myself would set me free.

“Would you be able to… if I—” I drew in a deep breath. “I don’t wish to lose control.”

“Understandable.” Vittoria nodded. “I’ll be here. You have nothing to fear about the change. It’s disorienting at first, but it feels like taking a large breath of fresh air after being submerged in the sea.”

I exhaled and nodded. “All right. I’m ready to break the spell-lock now.”

Vittoria led us back toward our childhood home. The flap of illusion that had peeled back was securely in place again, making the building look as it had my whole life. We walked up the stairs and entered through the front door, and what had once been a small living space now had cathedral ceilings and decadent furnishings. It smelled of honey and wildflowers.

On the far wall in the first chamber were shelves of books; another nook had a wall of jars with hearts. I averted my gaze and walked toward an altar set off to one side. Giant bowls of fire crackled to either side of it, the flames a beautiful, glittering black.

Vittoria snapped her fingers, and suddenly a werewolf appeared holding a lavender garment. The young woman looked to be in her midtwenties, and there was something familiar about the shade of her eyes and the shape of her face. She quickly averted her gaze and moved back. My twin motioned for me to step up onto the dais. “Put this on. Then lie on the altar with your arms relaxed at your sides and your legs straight out.”

Relaxing wasn’t something I thought I could achieve, but I gingerly took the item, which turned out to be a billowing gown, and quickly undressed and slipped it on.

It had two large swaths that tied over each shoulder and continued down the front. A silver rope tied it together at the waist, and two slits ran up to midthigh. The deep V of the front granted access to my spell-locked heart and had my mortal one beating furiously. I refused to think about how it would soon cease beating at all. A flash of calmness blew over me, almost as if propelled on a magical wind. All would be well. I glanced to the werewolf who’d brought the clothing and wondered if she’d somehow altered my mood. It was rare and covetable magic. The princes of Hell could influence sins, but to influence joy was something else entirely.

Letting that oddity go, I squared my shoulders and climbed onto the altar, lying as my twin had instructed. Vittoria stood over me, then surveyed the chamber where the lone shifter waited, standing guard, I realized.

“We’re not to be disturbed.” My sister glanced at me, her lavender eyes glowing as she called upon her power. “It will be over quickly.”

Before I had time to give in to my rising panic, Vittoria’s fingers lengthened and her claws punched through my chest. For a moment, I could hardly believe she’d done it.

Then I opened my mouth to scream, but nothing came out. My chest burned. Violently. It felt as if half a dozen knives had been set in a fire and then shoved into my body. That pain was so acute, so overwhelming, that I didn’t feel anything else. The hold on my mind, my memories, the whole spell-lock cracked like an egg, and everything came flooding back.

My life.

My House.

My power. In my mind’s eye I saw me and Wrath, making love and training and battling wits and wills. Another memory: my twin scheming with me in our throne room. I saw Sursea coming to us with her plan, her need for vengeance fueling my sin. Then I was in the garden and I saw the look on Wrath’s face right before everything was torn away.

The scream I couldn’t get out before ripped through me now, echoing in the temple. It was rage and torment given form. I heard shifters scatter from wherever they’d been hiding. And I screamed until the memories slowed.

Darkness swept in as quickly as the pain had, then I didn’t feel or think of anything at all.





Once the pain receded and the darkness faded, I lay as still as a statue, listening. Several rooms away I heard the swish of a skirt, the soft tread of slippers. Hushed voices. Closer there was a sharp intake of breath as if someone had awoken suddenly.

I kept my eyes closed as I adjusted to my new range of hearing. My sharper senses. One thing stood out immediately. My pulse did not pound. I inhaled deeply and slowly exhaled.

The lack of a heartbeat wasn’t as disorienting as I’d thought it would be. Though perhaps that was because I no longer felt fear the same way. I cracked an eye, surprised to see streaks of red and gold creeping in through the windows and under the door. Dawn had arrived. I must have been out longer than I’d thought.

I sat up and nearly launched myself across the room, my fully immortal body filled with incredible strength. I already knew no one was in the chamber with me, but I glanced around with new eyes. Vittoria had been right; it felt as if I’d been submerged below water and my head finally broke the surface. Colors were brighter, more intense. I could see individual threads on my gown. Dust motes glittered in a sliver of sunlight on the opposite end of the temple.

I felt full of energy, revitalized. I leapt onto the altar in one jump, then hurtled into the air, landing gracefully on the other side of the chamber. A strange, familiar feeling started in my center. In place of my heart, there was the steady thrumming of my power. It felt like coming home after being away for far too long.

“Fiat lux.”