Текст книги "Throne of the Fallen"

Автор книги: Kerri Maniscalcol

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Текущая страница: 24 (всего у книги 35 страниц)

FORTY-EIGHT

WHAT HAPPENED IN the vampire court once I left?” Envy had his back to Alexei as he asked, attention fixed on the cocktail he swirled in one hand.

It was well past the hour he should have retrieved Camilla for their dinner, far past when he should have checked on his court, too.

He’d made no move to leave the cottage.

He’d felt victorious after leaving Camilla aroused in the tub until he heard her orgasm through the walls. She’d knocked him clear off his high horse with that move. He’d grabbed some oil, fisted his aching cock, and stroked himself to orgasm while envisioning her.

“How many tried to take Blade’s throne?”

“Two heirs, Your Highness.” Alexei sounded amused. “Their heads are on spikes. One outside the throne room, the other outside Blade’s bedchamber. With a warning that he’s always watching.”

“Brazen, bold. A bit dramatic.” Envy snorted. “Glad to see Blade is taking to the role as expected.” He turned. Alexei cocked his head. “No clues, then?”

His second shook his head and didn’t elaborate. With a tight nod, Envy dismissed him.

He went back to considering his drink, playing over the encounter with Wolf.

Envy did not believe in coincidences.

The world was far too vast, the realms too plentiful, for anything to be random. Especially while a game was in play. Somewhere, buried in the seemingly random interaction, had to be the next clue.

There was no other good reason for Wolf to risk entering demon grounds uninvited. And the fact that he’d once been Unseelie nobility added to the possibility that Lennox had used him to deliver the next riddle. Of course, Envy couldn’t stop his mind from spinning with farfetched theories about how Camilla had responded when she’d seen the Fae, too. Envy had scrutinized Wolf, wondering if he’d been the male Camilla had shown him in that memory.

He gritted his teeth. He shouldn’t be thinking about that cursed memory still, but his sin needed an outlet, and feeling envy brought his senses into sharp focus.

Envy tried to use that now. He focused on the very first words the Unseelie had spoken, arranging and rearranging them a hundred ways.

Rumors abound.

It was a throwaway answer, given casually. The fact that it had been the gossip-column headline made it almost innocent, something easily overlooked. So of course, he was suspicious.

If it was an anagram, there were several possibilities.

O, absurd on rum.

Sob around rum.

Armor bound us.

A mob surround.

He was getting nowhere.

Absurd on rum could be Gluttony, he supposed. He’d probably sob after imbibing too much liquor too, especially if the reporter bested him again in a battle of wits. Armor bound us, perhaps Wrath, the war-seeking deviant. A mob surround might speak of Pride.

Previous clues had left Envy feeling certain of what he was after. None of these clicked into place as soundly, felt as right.

Envy swirled his liquor again, the darkness spinning wildly around a giant cube of ice. The rattle soothed him. As did the liquor itself. He was stalling.

The truth was, he didn’t want to see his court. The last time had been horrific. Children… they were the line that should never be crossed. And it was all his fault.

What he’d find now, after more of his court succumbed…

His next clue had to be from that conversation. He had to move forward.

Envy shifted to when the Fae had been speaking to Camilla. In the moment, he’d allowed his sin to take over, cloud his judgment. Imagine all the ways the male would—or had—pleasured Camilla.

It was a mistake.

Envy was starting to wonder whether Lennox wanted Camilla with him for the final part of the game to distract him. If it had been the Fae’s plan, it was working. Even being aware of that fact, Envy couldn’t stop himself from succumbing to it. She interested him on too many levels.

Her parentage, her talent for painting reality, her clever mind, and that magical little lightning show. She was a puzzle he’d not yet been able to solve. And he wasn’t the only one intrigued by her. Wolf made it seem like there was another secret he either knew or suspected.

I’ll be seeing you, fair winter lady.

Envy set his drink aside and used a tiny bit of magic to summon his journal. Moments later he was scribbling down as many clues as he could form.

Fair winter lady.

Fear it inwardly.

Fire at inwardly.

Finality redraw.

Radiant wiry elf.

Envy cursed. The clue had to be there. The more he grasped at it, the more it seemed to slip through his fingers.

I friendly at war.

Fairway tendril.

He focused solely on winter lady.

Envy was suddenly aware of Camilla’s scent. She’d entered the room on silent feet, and her presence now burned like a candle behind him. Or a strike of lightning, he thought wryly.

He straightened, glancing over his shoulder. She wore a hunter-green velvet gown—his signature color—that made the silver of her hair and eyes glimmer like the moon. She looked ethereal, otherworldly.

Entirely forbidden.

He followed her silhouette with his gaze, struck silent by how regal she appeared, how elegant. How different from the tousled woman he’d pictured moaning in the bath, the one who’d had him cursing as he found his own release.

“You look…” like a personal disaster. His face tightened. “I suppose that will do.”

Her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t call him on the lie. She nodded at the several sheets of paper he’d torn out, crumpled all over the floor.

“Cause for concern?”

“Deciphering riddles.” He motioned to the ground. “Poorly.”

She strode over, careful not to touch him as she leaned in, tracing the letters he’d scribbled in his journal.

He’d sensed her shift in emotions earlier, how she’d wished for something he refused to give. Camilla wanted a fairy tale. And he’d been serious when he’d said he’d never be the hero.

Envy did not believe in happily-ever-afters, only stretches of time that could be more enjoyable than others. He liked Camilla’s company, thrilled at their push-and-pull flirtation, but he didn’t want friendship. And she needed to get back to her world, her gallery, her life.

“Dearly twin?” she tried.

His blood iced. As did the chamber.

Camilla instantly shivered beside him, drawing back to rub her arms.

He knew of twins. And he despised one of them. The one who’d just removed his blackened heart once again.

Gods-damned Lennox.

“It was only a guess…,” Camilla said quietly.

He yanked his anger under control, offering her a quick smile.

It did little to comfort her.

“An excellent guess. I believe you solved it, Miss Antonius. I just don’t like what comes next.”

He strode past her to the door, pausing to look back.

“I won’t be able to be at dinner. But please feel free to dine without me.” He snapped his fingers and a servant appeared. “The cottage also has a studio stocked with paints and canvases. And a library. You are welcome to explore and use whatever you’d like.”

“Where are you going?”

“House Envy.”

“Am I not coming with you?”

Envy hadn’t imagined the subtle edge to her question, the hint of disbelief. They’d never played the game apart like this. At least not intentionally.

“No. You’ll remain here.”

He made a show of straightening his suit, pulling at his cuffs, as if he wished to look his best. He allowed innuendo to drip from his tone.

“I have a private matter to tend to. I’ll be gone for hours, so don’t wait up, Miss Antonius.”

He’d told her once before that if he took a lover to his bed, he’d need hours.

She hadn’t forgotten.

Camilla flinched.

Envy had never felt more like a villain.

But he left her standing there alone, looking like he’d broken her heart, then cut her with its sharp pieces.

To save his court and also keep Camilla safe, especially if Vittoria was still involved, he’d do much worse.

FORTY-NINE

CAMILLA STARED AT the door long after the prince had left.

He’d lied to her. Pretended he was seeking a lover when his expression looked as pained as hers. Had the idiot even realized he’d glanced away, his throat tight at that most crucial moment?

“What an ass.”

He was an even bigger ass if he believed she’d simply stay put. As far as Camilla knew, she was a guest in his circle and as such she could travel wherever she pleased.

Before deciding where she’d like to visit first, she plucked up a few discarded pages, scanning more of the clues he’d tossed away. Interesting. He believed Wolf was the messenger.

Camilla had a slightly different suspicion.

She called for a cloak and thick wool gloves, which took far longer than she’d expected. The maid who’d arrived was flushed, her eyes bright, almost feverish.

“Apologies for the delay, miss. Staff is short…” She trailed off, glancing back down the corridor. “Were you needing anything else?”

Camilla followed her gaze. No one emerged from what she presumed were the kitchens below. Typically, a cottage of this size was considered a country estate. Envy should have a full staff—butler, footmen, maids, and cook.

“Are you alone?” she asked the young demon.

The maid nibbled on her lower lip. “Just me and one footman left.”

Camilla’s brows knitted. Something in the way the demon had said they were the only ones left caused unease. Before Camilla could ask her to expound, the maid dropped a polite curtsy, then darted back down the hall.

Camilla stared after her for a few more moments, but Envy’s choice to keep the cottage barely staffed wasn’t really a great mystery. Maybe he didn’t use it often. Maybe the others were preparing for Camilla’s arrival at his House. Or the supposed guest he was expecting tonight.

Either way, she had bigger things to focus on.

Camilla donned her cloak, pulled on her gloves, then stole into the snow-covered night. Excitement thrummed through her as she inhaled the cold, spruce-scented air. The Seven Circles were under a constant cover of snow and ice, the realm a winter wonderland.

Her breath puffed in front of her as she darted along the tree line, her steps crunching on the frost-coated ground, sinking into the soft coldness below.

She glanced behind at the cottage, the windows glowing with warm gold light. She’d half expected Alexei to emerge, but wherever Envy had gone, his second seemed to have followed. Envy probably expected her to stay inside the cottage.

A renewed sense of annoyance had her pressing on, searching for the far western edge of Envy’s circle. Soon enough, the howl rent the air due north of where she’d paused. The sound raised an army of goose bumps along her arms.

Camilla tossed a quick glance around once last time, to be certain she wasn’t being followed, then plunged into the woods. The animals grew silent, watchful.

A predator lurked nearby.

Several minutes later, she found him sitting on a mound, a brook fighting against the elements nearby, the trickle nearly frozen but refusing to submit to winter’s might.

“Wolf.”

“What a delight.” His teeth gleamed in the moonlight. “Our paths cross again.”

He’d discarded his hat, allowing the full majesty of his Fae glory to shine.

He knew what he was doing. And Camilla allowed herself to admire him for a beat.

His white hair was tousled from the gusts of arctic wind, his ears on full display. His star-kissed appearance like the night in all its glittering charm.

He was still beautiful, still as ageless as the last time she’d seen him up close, two years before. His Otherness reminding her of how quickly he’d enchanted her, how fast she’d wanted him in her bed. But he was a reminder of her past. Of a choice she’d been given years too late.

“You had a message,” Camilla said. “Give it now.”

Wolf tsked.

“Is that any way to speak to an old friend?”

He unfolded himself from the rock and was suddenly before her, her hands clasped in his as he swung her around. He danced them across the snow, humming a tune that would enchant any mortal who heard it.

“My sweet little lover,” he crooned against her ear. “Come to court. Imagine the fun we could have. Twisted in sheets, twisted in our dark souls. Don’t you wonder what it could be?”

She did. And that was the problem. She shouldn’t want to go to the dark court at all.

Camilla allowed him his moment, then halted, feet stubbornly fixed to the ground.

“You brought me out here in the dead of night, I came. Give me the message. I’m sure you have many mortals to charm.”

“Some immortals, too.” His chuckle was filled with sensual promise. “Why deny what you are? You hide under that façade, dimming your light. Year after year.”

He trailed a nimble finger along her ear, his expression sad.

“Do you even remember what you are? Or has playing pretend for the humans made you think you are one?”

She batted his hand from her ear, then strode away, furious. “I am not here to debate my choices.”

Or lack thereof.

“Then tell me what you are. Prove you still know.”

Camilla’s throat tightened, her hands curling into fists. She had not admitted the truth out loud since the first day they arrived in Waverly Green and her mother had forbidden it.

Wolf’s animal-like eyes glowed dangerously.

“Shall I remind you what it was like, to finally be with an equal?” he said quietly. “Not to have to hold back?”

She was breathing entirely too fast, her nails carving crescent moons into her palms.

“You wanted me, Camilla, because we are the same. When you came to me in the dark market, you knew I could give you what no mortal man could.”

“Yet you take mortal women to your bed. Do they not give you what you desire?”

“You know as well as I do, I cannot truly fuck a mortal without glamour. It will never be the same as it was between you and me. Flirt with your demon now, but when the time comes, you’ll mate with a Fae. There is a place for you in the Wild Court.”

This was not at all the way she’d wanted this conversation to go.

“Is that why you were outside my gallery and Hemlock Hall? You’re trying to stake your claim.”

“Partly. But I was also sent to watch the game players. You were a pleasant surprise.” He sighed and stepped back, looking her over. “It would be a poor move on my part if I didn’t make my intentions known now. I’m here to offer a way back. If you agree, I want you to do so as my mate. It doesn’t have to be about love. An alliance is far more valuable.”

“Would you bring me back to Waverly Green?”

“Wherever you wish to go.” His yellow eyes drank her in. “Mortal realms. Fae courts. My bedchamber. The offer has a time limit, I’m sure you understand.”

Camilla knew what he wasn’t saying. If she chose to return to Waverly Green, she wouldn’t be able to leave again. Such was the subtext of Fae bargains. This offer hadn’t originated with Wolf, it was from the game master himself.

She chose her next words with care.

“If you’re serious about forming an alliance, answer a question for me.”

He smiled, intrigued. “One question, one kiss.”

“No kiss, one question, no assault on your favorite head.”

His booming laughter filled the night. “Very well, let’s play by your rules tonight.”

“Where is the dearly twin?”

“Old name. Older than me.”

“Ancient, then. My question remains.”

“Old ones call them the dearly twin…” His focus briefly turned inward. “The Twin Pillars of Faerie. It’s an ancient Fae site, now abandoned. That is where you wish to go?”

No. That was where she wished to go without him. And it was also not at all what she’d expected. Thankfully he didn’t seem to realize he’d given her much more than she’d hoped.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“There is a portal not far from here. One of the demon prince’s guards watches it.” He flung his hand out, motioning in the general direction.

“Which prince?”

“If you want me to take you there, that detail doesn’t matter. Come.”

Stubborn male.

“Good night, Wolf.”

She started walking back in the path she’d made, unsurprised to hear the Fae curse and come after her.

“You need to give me an answer, Millie.”

She spun, eyes flashing.

“Do not call me by a nickname. We fornicated. A lifetime ago. That is the beginning and ending of any affection we shared. And yes, I could give in to all my passions in your bed. I could ride you for as long as I liked, as hard as I liked, and know you’d be just as wild and hungry. That’s ancient history now.”

“Doesn’t seem so long ago. And you didn’t mind that nickname when I was pushing inside you.”

Wolf’s attention dropped to where her locket lay nestled against her chest, barely visible under her cloak. His expression imitated mortal sadness perfectly. He’d been practicing.

“What a curious little trinket… did your—”

He reached over, gently brushing the gift from her mother, then drew his fingers back with a hiss. He glared at her. As if she should have warned him that the charm repelled Unseelie males.

“If you leave, the offer is revoked.”

“Of course it is.”

Camilla’s laugh was cold, void of humor.

They expected her to make a life-altering decision in only a few moments. A future wasn’t something to throw away on a whim, to be forced into by fear.

When Camilla chose her fate, she wanted to do so for herself, because she’d had time to think about what she wanted out of life. She’d never gotten to decide that before.

“Good night, Wolf. Travel well.”

“Wait.”

His voice had lost its teasing edge.

She turned back, waiting.

Wolf surprised her by yanking her close, attempting a hug that ended up being a stiff pat to the back. Foolish Fae. She melted against him for a moment before disentangling from his embrace, then stepped back.

“I appreciate your hunting me down,” she said. Thanking a Fae wasn’t wise. Acknowledging an action was the best course to take, one that wouldn’t leave you indebted.

“Don’t go yet. Camilla, I need to hear you say it. I need to know you remember.”

She knew what he meant, even if she wasn’t sure why he was so desperate for her to say it out loud. It was a plea, not a threat or a demand. A choice. She thought about her mother, about how she’d commanded Camilla never to speak her truth aloud again.

“I may be Fae,” she whispered softly, “but that doesn’t make me part of your court.”

“Doesn’t it, though?” His smile was reminiscent of his name. “Be safe, fair winter lady. Remember, I am not your enemy.”

Oh, but he is exactly that, isn’t he? At least for now.

This time, when she plunged back down the path she’d made, the other Fae didn’t follow.

FIFTY

ALEXEI.” ENVY’S VOICE carried a magical summoning, alerting his second no matter where he was on the grounds that Envy needed him.

A moment later, the air stirred behind him.

“Your Highness?”

“Vittoria is on her way; I need this”—he motioned to the bodies of his fallen court members slumped throughout the corridor leading to his throne room—“taken care of before she arrives. No one can know the extent of our… problem.”

Envy finally turned, looking his second in the face. The vampire’s gaze was hard. Alexei had known the court was falling to the memory madness, had scented the blood behind closed doors well before the violence reached the corridors.

Lennox had many enemies; Envy only wished one would have taken him off the playing board centuries back. His second looked like he was considering doing just that.

Alexei could have returned to Malice Isle decades before. Envy knew he’d never admit it, but the vampire felt at home in these corridors. Had taken to the demon realm more than he’d ever taken to the politics of the vampire court. He wanted to see this game over too.

Wanted to rip the throats of their enemies out, bathing in their blood, making them pay for the suffering of the demons here.

“Of course,” Alexei finally said, twisting to the nearest body. His mouth had a grim set as he hauled the first body up.

Envy lifted another, his anger and hopelessness growing. These members of his court looked like they’d turned on each other. When you couldn’t remember anything, everyone wore an enemy’s face.

Together he and Alexei worked quickly, bringing the bodies to a chamber where they could be properly tended to later. Demons didn’t have religious practices like mortals, but there were sacred funeral rites observed by each House in the Seven Circles. Ways of honoring the fallen.

Once the corridor was cleared, Envy went to his bedchamber and changed into a fresh suit. Vittoria would scent death better than anyone else, given her true role as the goddess who ruled over it. He used more of his magic to cloak the scent. It was draining too much power, but he had no other choice.

Initially he’d only used his power to keep a select group of his guards and staff as clearheaded as possible, hoping they’d be able to take care of the rest of the court. Then Envy had had to ward his House. When he’d arrived tonight and seen the state of his court, he’d decided that no matter how much of a drain it caused, he needed to use his magic to stave off any more madness in his circle, as long as he could.

Now he was fueling too many demons with his personal store of power and barely keeping the memory fog at bay. He wasn’t siphoning enough magic back to replenish what he was using. And it was taking its toll.

Being weakened going into what he assumed was the final leg of the game was not ideal. He had to hope other players were just as ragged.

Alexei stood in the doorway, arms folded across his chest. “I don’t like this.”

“Lennox doesn’t design the game based on what we like.”

“We don’t even know if Vittoria has the next riddle or clue.”

Envy blew out a breath. He knew that, but he couldn’t risk not seeing if she did. “Do you have any better ideas?”

Alexei’s mouth pressed into a firm line.

Vittoria might not be the key to the next clue, but they were almost out of time.

“If you’re going to go through with it, then we’ll make it count. You need to siphon more of your sin tonight,” Alexei said, echoing his own worries. “You’ll never last to face off with Lennox if it comes down to it.”

They both knew it would. Lennox enjoyed lording over the winner, mostly to boast about his cleverness as game master.

“You won’t like it,” his second continued, “but Miss Antonius—”

“No.”

“I don’t mean stoking your jealousy.” Alexei smiled. “If Miss Antonius sees you with someone else, I’m sure she’ll provide a great deal of envy for you to siphon.”

Envy couldn’t argue. It was the best way for him to regain some of his power to continue funneling to his court. And yet…

“It’s our best hope,” Alexei said, more softly. “If Vittoria doesn’t have a clue, you’ll still have gained something from this meeting.”

Envy glanced toward the window. Somewhere on his grounds, Camilla was in his cottage. Part of him wanted to go back there, forget his reality for a few more delicious moments.

“Vittoria will be here any second. I can set up an opportunity for Camilla to happen upon you.” Alexei gave him a hard look. “Do what needs to be done.”

“You know Vittoria only wants to make my brother envious.”

“And?” Alexei challenged. “Are you suddenly taking the moral high ground? Now?”

Envy flicked imaginary lint off his lapel. Alexei was correct. He didn’t have to like it, but he needed to do whatever it took to keep his court standing. Camilla’s envy would give him enough power to fuel them all. He already knew from that taste in the woods.

They descended the stairs in silence, winding their way toward the throne room. Two guards stood on either side of the door.

“Once I call for the doors to close, no one is to enter,” Envy said, infusing a bit of magic into his command, ensuring that they remembered their orders. “Are we clear?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Envy strode toward the dais; the damage from the fire had long since been cleared away, his throne untouched by the magical flames that had taken the life of one of his council members. Rhanes had been a wise voice for many years, had the respect of almost everyone. His loss was a great hit to the court. As were the lives of the other council members who’d fallen during that first clue.

Envy settled onto the plush cushion of his throne, the hunter-green velvet soft and decadent. It was strange, glancing around the empty chamber, once home to so many lords and ladies, all vying to be the envy of their peers. They’d wear their finest jewels and silks, draping themselves in a sea of riches, all artfully displayed because of their prince’s love of art.

Now there were only himself and Alexei in the great, cavernous chamber. The silence was oppressive. It felt as if the eyes of all his slain court were watching, wondering how far their prince would go to right this wrong.

Alexei climbed the dais as well and clapped Envy’s shoulder before he took up his place of honor as right hand to the prince, standing just behind and to the right of the throne.

They’d only just settled into their roles when Vittoria strolled in, eyes glowing, brunette hair flowing.

Envy motioned to the guards and they closed the doors, sealing Envy, Alexei, and Vittoria in. Alone, for now.

He swallowed the revulsion down, adopting that indolent mask.

“Vittoria.”

“Envy.”

“I didn’t expect you so soon.”

She gave him a long once-over. “I’ll always come for you.”

Alexei mumbled a low warning. Envy had apparently made some sound of disgust.

Vittoria’s gaze traveled over his second. “Alexei,” she said. “Always a pleasure.”

Innuendo dripped from her tone. The last time she’d seen the vampire, she’d been riding his cock in the corridor outside Envy’s bedchamber.

Her blush gown had clearly been chosen to provoke—split up both sides, it fluttered open as she walked to the throne. Two tiny scraps of silk looped from her waist over each shoulder, covering her breasts only in part. She looked like temptation and sin. Her two favorite things aside from death.

“As wonderful as it is to see you again so soon,” she said, pausing on the first step, “what do you want? I have werewolves to wrangle and a House to reestablish.”

To see your head on a pike outside my House, Envy thought.

He felt Alexei’s gaze boring into the back of his head, reminding him to set his personal feelings aside.

Camilla’s silver gaze flashed into his mind. He shut it down.

“Perhaps I simply was bored, dearly twin.”

Vittoria’s expression didn’t shift at the odd phrase. Maybe she wasn’t part of his game. Or maybe she would make it difficult for him.

“And?” She climbed up another step. Only two steps separated him from the Goddess of Death. “Are you finally ready to play?”

His gaze sharpened on her. It was impossible to tell whether she was hinting at the game or was simply baiting him.

“Is that your price?” he asked, steeling himself.

“If we’re negotiating, I want a sample first.” Victory flared in her eyes. “See what it’s worth to me.”

She ascended another step, then the final one.

“Any objections, Your Highness?”

Vittoria leaned over, slowly pushing his legs apart and settling herself between them.

Her palms flattened on his thighs, slowly stroking upward, her thumbs following the inner seam of his trousers, stopping just shy of his cock.

It didn’t so much as twitch.

Vittoria arched a brow. “Well, now. This is rather surprising.”

She raked her nails over the tops of his thighs next, attempting to spark some sensation. His cock had no intention of playing along with his scheme.

Envy wasn’t sure whether he felt like laughing or cursing.

Vittoria grew annoyed.

“Do we need to bring someone else in for our fun?” she demanded, attention flicking to Alexei. “Perhaps your second should join us.”

Alexei came around to the front of the throne, his expression cold. “Should I get the woman now?”

Vittoria’s head cocked to one side; then a wretched smile curved her lips. “No. Our little prince here is going to close his eyes. Think of this woman.”

Envy gritted his teeth but attempted to summon an image of Camilla, no matter how wrong it felt. He closed his eyes, closed out the throne room, recalled Camilla soaking in her bath earlier. How the water had caressed her curves, the steam mixing with her floral scent, her gaze sharp as he teased her.

He’d wanted to shuck off his clothes and step into the tub with her, drawing her onto his lap as he dampened a cloth and dragged it over every inch of her glorious skin, her nipples pebbling from the sensation, making his mouth water from the sight.

He jolted from his memory.

“There it is.”

Vittoria was licking her lips and rubbing his erection. She’d only gotten the first lace of his trousers undone when he softened. She glared at him.

“What seems to be the issue?”

He scrubbed a hand over his face.

“I don’t know,” he lied.

“Are you in love?” Vittoria asked, her tone dripping with accusation.

“Of course not.”

She pushed to her feet, her cheeks flushed with annoyance. “Your bedroom skills are legendary. Am I to believe the rumors are all false?”

“I’m tired. I have a lot on my mind,” he said. “And you know I don’t particularly like you.”

“And you’ve particularly liked everyone you’ve fucked before?”

He hadn’t, further complicating matters. He tossed his hands up, frustrated. “I’ll try again.”

Vittoria folded her arms across her chest, clearly annoyed. “What does this mystery woman look like? Glamour works wonders.”

Everything inside him seized at the thought. He did not want to fuck someone wearing Camilla’s face. When he took her to his bed, it would be her.

His mouth pressed into a firm line.

Alexei shook his head at his refusal to play along, answering for him.

“She has silver hair and eyes. Stands a little over five feet three inches tall. Gold skin. Full mouth, slightly upturned eyes.”

Vittoria flashed another crooked grin. She moved around to the back of his throne, leaning across his shoulder.

“Close your eyes, Prince Envy.”

Her hand shifted, slowly undoing the top button of his shirt. He hid his flinch. The last time she’d been near his chest, her taloned hand had punched through it.

She slowly licked down along the column of his throat.

He fought the urge to leap up and put distance between them.

“Let’s pretend your silver-haired beauty is here.” Vittoria’s skin brushed against his. “In your deepest, most secret fantasies, does she close those full lips around your thick length while you sit back on your throne?”

Her fingers trailed lower.

“Or does she bend over this armrest here”—she traced the spot where his hand curled over his throne, his grip tightening—“and let you take her from behind?”