I held my head high as we continued to dance around the room. Soon the crowded dance floor was almost empty, and the prickles that indicated fear had turned to stabbing. I clamped my jaw together and kept my expression neutral. Perhaps it was the nearly twenty years of being mortal and living as a human, but I no longer wished to inspire such fear.
Power was one thing—I would not apologize for the ability to defend myself and those I loved, but this? This was not at all what I wanted. A memory of my old life came floating back. Despite the fiery magic I summoned, I’d been cold on the inside, alone except for my twin.
I’d forgotten how isolating it had been, being feared. I hadn’t known anything else, had nothing to compare it with. Now I knew the warmth of friendship. The joy of laughter and the comfort in… acceptance.
Wrath was respected for his power, not punished for it. Demons and even his brothers thought twice before crossing him, yet they looked at me like I was an executioner ready to incinerate them for any perceived slight. It wasn’t fair to be punished for the very same thing my husband was revered for. Though maybe from their perspective I was something that did inspire true fear. House Vengeance was not simply ruled by one sin like the other Houses. It could come for all, and that was something the demons feared.
“… she tricked him into marriage.”
A couple shot me a nasty look, and I stiffened. That wasn’t at all what had happened.
“Ignore them.” Wrath’s voice was as smooth as silk in my ear. “You didn’t trick me into anything. And you were magnificent today. You stopped a battle before it could start a war. Your magic brought peace. It was a necessary and strategic move. Never doubt that.”
“That doesn’t seem to be the consensus shared by this court,” I said quietly. “I thought you might be questioning our tactics, too.”
“I trust you, my lady. And I trusted your judgment out there today.” He swept us across the dance floor, his touch grounding me. “The witches would not have fought a fair battle. They would have used more magic and trickery. In this instance, I stand behind our choice to fight as we did. You used your magic as a weapon today. It did not use you, Emilia. It was a true victory, and I’m proud of what you accomplished. None of these courtiers would stand up and fight for their own court.”
“I acted mostly for my own benefit,” I confessed. “I didn’t want Greed to demand another blood retribution. And when they targeted you, I wanted to kill them all.”
Wrath brought his lips to my ear, and I felt him smile. “Even more appealing, my lady.”
“Liar.” I gripped his hand in mine as we moved across the dance floor, thankful. I knew what he said was right, and yet with the ballroom full of fearful demons, it made me feel otherwise.
Obliterating an enemy by setting them ablaze didn’t feel heroic. It felt callous. Or that’s what I would have felt before the spell-lock was removed. Everything was confusing now, wrong. I was a goddess who shouldn’t feel so deeply, who should act without judgment, but I knew one fact to be true: just because I had the power to do so didn’t mean I should.
What sort of precedence would that set for the subjects of the realm? We were all trapped in an endless cycle of wrong acts. Sursea using us. Vittoria and I tricking Wrath and Pride. The witches binding us. Me and Vittoria striking back at them. Their attacking House Greed. This unrest between all of us could go on for eternity if we didn’t put an end to it. Someone needed to stand up and say enough. That might wasn’t always right. Otherwise, the next powerful creature could emerge and do whatever they saw fit to anyone less powerful.
“A kiss for your thoughts?” Wrath asked. Smiling at the unexpected request, I lifted my face, allowing our lips to brush against each other. “Now tell me.”
“I don’t feel as I used to.” My admission was whispered so only the demon prince could hear me. “I’m happy to have my full power back, my memories. But… inspiring such fear, it’s not what I desire. I don’t want to walk into a room and have it go silent. Watchful. I don’t want to feel that level of fear directed my way. I’d forgotten how lonely I’d been before I met you. How cold it had made me, bringing fear and chaos with me in place of warmth and love.”
Wrath was quiet for a moment. “What do you want?”
I thought about the prophecy, and while it might not have been solely about us, I felt one aspect of it acutely. As above, so below. Balance. Now that I was fairly confident Vesta was alive and hiding of her own accord, I had a new goal to focus on entirely.
“I want to right this wrong. I don’t just want to break the curse, I want to give all of us a true chance at coexisting peacefully.”
“Peace might not be possible.”
“I know. But I want to at least do something right. There’s been too much anger and resentment. I want to wake up and not worry about who might attack that day. Out of jealousy, or anger, or greed—I want to focus on the good. I want to surround myself with love. And that will never be possible if we’re all cursed.” I took a deep breath and exhaled. “I want to go to the Well of Memory. And I want to end this endless cycle tonight.”
Wrath leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to my lips. “Hold on tight, my lady.”
Without saying good-bye to his brother or any member of Greed’s court, Wrath magicked us away in the middle of the dance floor, earning a few shouted curses we both ignored.
TWENTY-ONE
“You must pay the goddess a tithe to enter the Well of Memory’s chamber.” I recited Fauna’s earlier instruction as I studied the statue of the goddess and serpent in Wrath’s gardens.
There were no features carved onto her face, but she had flowers in her hair, much like how I used to wear mine. Her curved blades looked sharp enough to draw blood, so I climbed up on the edge of the pool and pressed my fingertip on one. A single drop of blood welled up before the wound healed, leaving no indication it had just been injured. It was now odd to recall this immediate healing ability hadn’t been the case just two evenings ago. The spell-lock had well and truly changed me. But I would not dwell on that now.
I surveyed the statue for any hint of a change from the blood offering. None occurred. It would have been far too convenient for the statue to magically come to life and reveal that the curved dagger in its fist was the missing Blade of Ruination. But it certainly would have been nice. Wrath had warned me before I left that the statue wasn’t hiding the legendary blade to his knowledge. Part of me had believed my goddess blood would unlock some spell on the statue that even the demons hadn’t known about. Alas, that wasn’t the case.