Camilla searched for a weapon, something, anything she could use against the king.
She hadn’t come armed to their meeting. And even if she had, Lennox would have taken anything from her when she’d been imprisoned.
Think…
She wasn’t physically strong enough to overpower the king. She couldn’t hold him back while Envy ran him through. She couldn’t bind his power or use hers to stun him.
There had to be—a sense of calmness dropped over her.
Camilla was dangerous with or without a weapon.
Because she could create one. All she needed to do was get to the paint and the brush. Then she’d summon a weapon deadly enough to kill an immortal king.
Two large hands grabbed her by the waist and tugged her back.
She thrashed, calling forth the magic that had killed Vexley.
“Easy, now.” Wolf’s mouth pressed against her ear. “You’re getting entirely too close to my favorite appendage.”
“Put me down.”
He did but didn’t unhand her.
“Wolf,” she warned.
Wolf dropped his hands but remained close.
She didn’t have time to waste. With Wolf following closely on her heels, she picked her way around the chaos and snatched the brush from the floor. Understanding what she was attempting, Wolf grabbed an unbroken jar of paint, thrusting it toward her, then jerked his chin toward the alcove behind the throne. She spared him one long look. Wolf was committing treason. If they failed, Lennox would torture him. Slowly.
Go on, Princess, he mouthed.
She nodded, then took one final look at the raging fight.
Envy and Lennox were locked in battle, their blades flashing across the dark and light like lightning strikes of gods.
Camilla pushed their fight from her mind, rushed to the alcove, and dropped to her knees, forcing herself to dive deep, deep into that well of power, summoning an image of what she needed most. At first there was only glittering darkness, no shapes or images to be found.
Then, like moonlight rippling across a lake, she saw it.
A bold, curved sword forged its way into her mind. The blade was graceful, violent. And the weapon was made of Fae killing iron.
With the image of the curved sword in her mind, Camilla began painting it across the silver floor, her brush flying back and forth, the strokes heavy and light, bold and thin. She hoped she was working quickly, that she wasn’t transported to some other realm.
That she was in Faerie gave her hope that only a few moments had passed.
When the sword practically gleamed, she reached into the floor, yanking the weapon free from where it had slumbered in the ether. She hissed as the very real iron burned her palms, searing the shape of the hilt into her flesh like a brand.
Wolf jerked back as she pushed to her feet, gritting her teeth to keep from screaming. Not that anyone would hear her cries with Lennox’s power surging as strong as ever.
A series of moonbeam blasts drew her attention to the dais. Envy was on the floor, her father towering over him. She gasped, but then the demon prince’s wings shot out, knocking the king down.
They grappled on the floor. Blood splattered everywhere.
Camilla took one excruciating step at a time, hand clamped around the sword, refusing to drop it. Even as her flesh sizzled and the sickly-sweet scent wafted through the room, she forced herself to where her father battled.
Lennox was drawing his arm back, sword dripping with Envy’s ichor, ready to end the fight.
Camilla didn’t think. She acted.
She swung the curved blade as hard and fast as she could, aiming for the back of Lennox’s knee. She felt the metal bite through his flesh.
With a roar that broke through the oppressive power of Unseelie magic, her father spun on his good leg, eyes flickering between black and white. A vicious sneer lifted his lips.
He advanced on her, sword swinging.
Camilla held her ground, striking again. This time the iron seared across his chest, carving a gaping wound.
Over Lennox’s shoulder, she saw Envy rise. He towered anew, his wings fully unfurled, and when Lennox lifted his sword to strike his daughter down, the demon prince drove his blade straight through the Unseelie King’s chest.
Immediately the flickering, strobing light stopped.
Sound returned, crashing down like a rain of glass.
Lennox went down to one knee, glittering blood smearing across his teeth as he coughed. Holding a hand to his collapsing chest, he spit the blood out near Camilla’s feet.
Instead of snarling at her, her father smiled. It frightened her more than if he’d screamed.
“You are my child, through and through.”
Camilla’s eyes burned as she dropped her weapon, shaking her head, holding up her charred palms.
Of all the things she’d imagined him saying…
Envy dragged his demon blade across Lennox’s throat, silencing her father forever.
She stared as the Unseelie King slumped to the ground, unmoving.
A terrible war took place inside her. She hadn’t dealt the killing blow, but she’d ensured that he didn’t win the fight. Her own father.
Fingers wrapped around her wrist, squeezing gently.
“Envy, I’m so—” She turned, then closed her mouth.
The prince hadn’t taken her hand.
Wolf gave her a sad smile. “I’m sorry, Princess. He left.”
A fist clutched her heart, squeezing until she felt dizzy. It couldn’t be true. Not after what they’d just done. Her gaze darted around, searching. There were no emerald wings towering above the chaos. No gleaming demon dagger shining like its own bloody star.
Wolf was correct. Envy was gone.
He’d left her.
Tears pricked her eyes, but she blinked them away.
Sometimes actions spoke far louder than any words.
The demon prince had not forgiven her, after all. Now that he’d won the game and killed his greatest enemy, he’d gone home. It shouldn’t hurt so much that he’d done exactly what he’d always said he would. But hearts weren’t always logical, and Camilla’s ached at the loss.
“Your Highness?” Wolf asked, voice quiet. “What will you have me do?”
Camilla pulled the broken pieces of herself together, then glanced around the chamber.
No living creatures remained, all fled or crumpled to the ground. The beauty of the Crescent Court was buried in blood and smoke. But against the wall, the portal still gleamed, and she knew what to do.
“We find all the mortals and escort them safely to Waverly Green.”
“Then?”
“I’ll close the portal and destroy the Silverthorne Key,” she said.
Wolf winced.
“What?”
“Princess… the key is gone.”
SIXTY-SIX
IS IT WORKING?” Alexei asked, pacing around the stark room they’d set up to restore Envy’s court in the farthest wing of House Envy.