Envy’s attention cut to Camilla. Was that why Lennox wanted her? To somehow barter or—more likely—threaten the Seelie with giving him back the Hunt?
“Well. This is unexpectedly pleasant.”
His voice was a dark rumble, more elemental in nature than any human sound. It could raise tides, summon constellations, make the moon itself fall at his feet.
Only to be crushed if it amused him.
Envy paused beside Camilla, slanting a look in her direction. She’d completely shielded her emotions from him.
Her attention had shifted to the male Lennox had been speaking with. A golden-skinned, dark-haired Fae with dark eyes. He wore a deep crimson tailcoat, looking like a ringmaster.
“Ayden.” Camilla’s voice was cold.
Envy glanced between them, brows knitted. That she would know another Fae wasn’t surprising. But that one… He knew who Ayden was by name. Knew he was an Unseelie prince. And her tone. He swore his heart started to thud painfully against his chest.
“Last I heard, you were terrorizing mortals with your carnival tricks. What was it? The midnight circus?” she asked, her tone mocking.
Envy had gone very still beside her.
The Fae gave her a once-over, annoyance clear in the pressing of his mouth.
“The Moonlight Carnival.”
Lennox chuckled, dark and ominous.
“Still boasting about your midnight bargains?” Camilla needled. “Who was the unfortunate lady this time? I assume she didn’t succumb to your seduction, or else she’d be here.”
The Unseelie Prince tugged at his white gloves. Envy noticed moons stitched across the knuckles, the ode to his court.
“Still pretending to be a mortal artist?” the Unseelie Prince shot back.
“Better than a two-bit magician.”
Envy’s gaze bored into her, like two hot pokers at the back of her head. He knew she sensed it, saw the slight stiffening of her shoulders.
A horrible, startling realization clicked into place.
Envy forced his feet to stay planted on the ground, not to let the betrayal show.
Lennox had been watching very closely, so Envy knew the moment he’d decided to have his own fun. He leaned forward, steepling his fingers.
“Children,” he all but purred. “Enough.”
His gaze was fixed on Envy. The flicker of victory unmistakable.
Envy’s hands curled into fists. His expression as icy as the coldness rushing through his soul. Camilla had been keeping many secrets, it seemed.
Camilla was not Seelie.
She was an Unseelie princess.
Daughter of the male who’d ruined his court. His worst enemy.
A flash crossed his mind of when she’d nearly fainted on Vexley’s roof. Of course. The metal roof had been iron. No wonder she’d gotten so ill.
She finally dared a glance in his direction, but Envy refused to acknowledge her.
Envy might be a ruthless bastard, but Camilla had far outplayed him.
How foolish he must have seemed to her, speaking of his hatred for Unseelie royalty.
While fucking her on his throne. He thought of that night in a new light now, of her mockery. She’d owned Envy on his seat of power, knowing damn well her father had royally fucked his court. It was really quite impressive, how alike she was to Lennox.
To think he’d even briefly fantasized about breaking his rule for her.
Screwing Envy and his throne. It sure as hell would be the last time an Unseelie royal ever played him.
“The game is over,” Envy said, definitely feeling the first slow beats of his heart. Of course it would fucking regenerate now. Right when it was poised to break. “Where’s my prize?”
SIXTY-ONE
CAMILLA IMAGINED ENVY hated her beyond anything, had probably jumped to all the wrong conclusions the moment Lennox confirmed their familial connection, because she hadn’t confided the truth. She wanted to comfort him, to explain, to beg forgiveness, but weakness in the Wild Court would never stand. If her true father saw how much she cared for the prince…
She gave her father, the Unseelie King, a ruthless smile her mother had taught her.
“He won the game, but I want my talent back. Now.”
She finally flicked a glance over her shoulder, scanning the demon. Envy stared back at her, hard. If looks could kill, Camilla would be lying dead at his feet this moment.
“Give him his prize and be done with it,” she said, bored.
The Unseelie King sat back, studying her far too closely.
“You speak for him?” Lennox asked, his voice low with warning. “Why.”
It wasn’t a question.
“You sent him to my realm. Had him require my assistance for your pathetic game. Then you had the Hexed Throne steal my talent.”
“And?” Lennox asked, his voice a silken, dangerous purr.
“It was obviously a way to force me here. You knew I would only come for my talent. Since sending Wolf to fetch me years ago didn’t work so well. Mother said you do not understand the concept of being denied.”
Camilla was almost certain Envy still hadn’t drawn a breath.
“Please. I want to restore my magic and go back home. To Waverly Green.”
She saw her father’s gaze narrow. Felt his displeasure a moment before violence erupted.
The Unseelie King was in front of her a moment later, eyes bright and flashing like starlight. His hair had changed too; gone were the silver-and-white locks, replaced by inky strands. Night was light and dark, moonlight and the absence of it.
The Unseelie King’s eyes and hair changed with his mood.
“What did you say?” he asked, his voice low and terrible. Unseelie chattered excitedly in the background. “I’m sure no child of mine deigned to plead.”
Camilla internally cursed. Mortals so often said “please,” she’d forgotten what an insult that was to Unseelie royalty. How she’d just proved herself no better than a human pet.
“You want to be restored, daughter?”
She held his stare, jaw locked. “Yes.”
His fingers turned to talons; in a move that was all preternatural speed, he reached behind her, then slashed those talons across the back of her head. Hot blood spilled down her neck, dripped to the floor. Where he clawed, her skin burned.
She bit down on her scream, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her in pain.
Envy flinched beside her, his hand drifting to his blade. She didn’t dare look at him.
“I wouldn’t do that.” Lennox hadn’t missed the demon’s reaction either.
Camilla gritted her teeth, knowing exactly what Lennox had done. Magic sparked over her skin, revealing all she’d kept hidden from the world.
Her ears lengthened to elegant points; her limbs regained their immortal strength. The wound on her hand healed instantly, along with the cuts her father had just made. Her talent came whooshing in next, filling her, that hollow void brimming with power. The return of her essence was a balm, but the soothing victory was short-lived.
Gone was her glamour. The mask she’d hidden behind for most of her life.