Anticipation thickened the air, made her pulse pound harder. The damn demon was teasing the moment out, knowing she’d grow taut from the unknown.
Was he about to make love to her here? Was there a new gown? A new painting? A—
The blindfold fell away.
An enormous, arched silver door gleamed in front of them. Their reflections were distorted by the number of carvings on it. Runes.
Camilla’s gaze swept over the door, above and around it; wisteria vines had been carved, so lifelike she would have thought they were real if it hadn’t been for the silver.
Her attention snagged on the one part that wasn’t solid silver—an emerald lock, shaped like a heart. She stepped forward, brushing her hand along the door.
The humming, bell-like sound intensified.
“It’s gorgeous,” she said. “Where does it go?”
When Envy didn’t respond, she turned to him.
He held a gold key, also heart-shaped, with a tiny emerald that matched the lock. Her breath caught. It was her father’s key. The Silverthorne Key.
“You took it,” she whispered.
“I wanted to keep it away from the Wild Court,” he said. “But I wanted to hold on to it in case you wished to use it.”
She blinked the stinging from her eyes. He’d planned this before he knew she’d agree to come with him. Had hoped she would.
Envy pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her head, holding her while she cried. When she quieted, he pressed one last kiss to her head, then stepped back, holding the key up for her to take.
“Feeling adventurous, pet?”
She stuck the key in the lock and twisted. The silver melted, revealing a long, narrow corridor. Camilla knew exactly where this led. It wasn’t Silverthorne Lane. It was much better.
She grabbed Envy’s hand and hurried into the tunnel, wondering how he’d managed such a thing. They emerged in her father’s studio.
She heaved a contented sigh. Everything was just as she’d left it. Only a month or two had passed since she’d been there, but it felt like everything had changed inside her.
She donned a glamour, not as good as her mother’s but one that allowed her to pass as human, and went to her home.
After speaking with her house staff and assuring them that all was well, Camilla pulled Envy into her bedchamber, then wrapped her arms around him, kissing him deeply until they were both breathless.
“Thank you,” she murmured against his lips. “This is the best gift in the world.”
Envy traced the curve of her face, tucked a strand of silver hair behind her ears, then kissed her nose.
“Your gallery, your memories of your mortal father—I know how important this city is to you. I don’t want you to sacrifice anything to stay at House Envy.”
He glanced around, his gaze pausing on the bed, then the door to the bathing chamber.
“Now we can spend the day here and come home at night.”
“You’re going to come back to Waverly Green too?”
He smiled. “As often as I can.”
“What if I’d like to spend the night here?” she asked, tugging at his lapels.
Envy allowed her to lead him to the bed.
In a move too swift for a human to detect, he had her pinned beneath him, his body hard and ready.
“I’m sure we can find something tempting about that.”
She smiled, unlacing his trousers. “I’m sure we can.”
When he pushed inside and began those deep, rhythmic thrusts that made her body lose all control, Camilla felt as if they’d truly won it all.
SEVENTY-ONE
THERE’S ONE MORE surprise I might have forgotten to mention yesterday.”
Envy stood beside the studio doors, giving Camilla the chance to enter first.
“This studio is yours whenever you’d like to create here,” he said. “I know you’ve got your father’s studio and the gallery in Waverly Green, but I want you to feel at home here, in House Envy, too.”
Her attention traveled along the candlelit room, pausing on the unrolled canvas lying on the floor, a second sprawled across the mattress he’d had brought in.
The far wall was entirely comprised of windows—he’d had the iron grates replaced with silver, keeping the curling filigree design.
A wooden bookshelf soared the twenty feet to the ceiling and was stocked with rolls of canvases, paintbrushes, pencils, chalks, watercolors, charcoals, sketchbooks, clay, knives, and every possible object she could dream up to use, to create and mold to her heart’s content.
There were gilded mirrors and fruits and other objects if she wished to paint a still life. Chairs and easels and stools. Frames in a thousand different sizes and shapes lay stacked neatly.
“It’s perfect.”
Flowers—gardenias and jasmine and wisteria—spilled out of urns and vases, the scents meant to invoke the good parts of her family’s court.
Envy knew she had a fondness for wisteria, knew she didn’t want to turn her back on her court entirely.
Though she’d made it abundantly clear she didn’t wish to rule. Yet.
There was no telling what the future held—unless they were the divining Seven Sisters with their threads of fate, or the Triple Moon Mirror with its ability to see the past, present, and future, they would need to wait and see what tomorrow brought.
Ayden sent letters weekly, trying to convince her she was needed to balance the five-point star court. With their mother missing and father dead, two courts were without leaders. Three, technically, since Onyx was captive.
Camilla did not want to take up that royal mantle.
Envy would support her in any decision. But now wasn’t the time for worrying about the future. This evening was about them.
Paint buckets in every shade of silver, purple, blue, yellow, white, and green lined the perimeter. Their colors, and the colors found within her favorite flowers.
Candles flickered everywhere.
“Tonight, I have a very special painting planned.”
Camilla’s silver gaze snapped to his, intrigue igniting in her eyes.
“Oh?” she asked, tone innocent.
As if she hadn’t already figured out exactly what he’d planned. He watched her roll the buttons on her bodice between her fingers, waiting for him to order her around. But only in this setting. Camilla would have his balls if he ever tried that outside their bedroom games.
His mouth curved. “Take off your dress.”
The silky gown pooled at her feet.
He admired her nude form, all tantalizing golden skin, hard nipples, and soft curves. She’d taken to wearing lingerie only sometimes now, keeping him constantly guessing what was beneath her clothes. Skin or lace. He liked it all.
Envy jerked his chin toward the mattress and Camilla stepped back, stopping when the backs of her legs brushed against it.
He dipped a finger into the silver paint, then traced the swell of her breast, curled around her peaked nipple, then drew a line down to her navel.
Camilla’s skin pebbled from the cool liquid paint, her breathing turning erratic.