Текст книги "Throne of the Fallen"

Автор книги: Kerri Maniscalcol

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Текущая страница: 30 (всего у книги 35 страниц)

FIFTY-NINE

CAMILLA’S NERVES TWISTED into intricate knots as she took his dagger, wondering how they’d gotten here, stuck in this tangled web of deceit. She went over the events of the last several weeks, searching for a different choice she could have made.

Why hadn’t she tried talking to him then?

She knew. Of course. Fear.

Her father had told her repeatedly that fear was the one force that drove all darkness in the world. Love, on the other hand, was the greatest source of power. Love strengthened the weakest, gave them a ferocity that fear never offered. Mothers defended their children. Partners, friends, good people stared down evil, becoming something to be feared.

Because of love.

Yet love wasn’t the path Camilla had chosen. She’d succumbed to that same mortal trap.

Change was terrifying. The unknown always was. It was the very essence of its being unknown that made it so. The familiar was comforting even when it wasn’t necessarily good.

She recognized instantly what she’d seen in the prince’s face.

Knew it intimately herself.

Fear flashed in Envy’s eyes. It hadn’t been from the strange rumble of warning cracking the ground under their feet. His fear had meant something else. A look so unsettling she realized she’d never seen it on his face before. And Camilla wondered if he knew. Even if he hadn’t admitted it to himself.

Maybe he was afraid of being right. Of what it would mean. Perhaps this was one last game he was playing with her, the game of denial. To acknowledge the truth meant accepting change. Neither one of them seemed ready for it.

Change was terrifying but necessary. Especially now.

She wished she could save him from any hurt she’d unintentionally caused. She hadn’t known what he would come to mean to her. Not really.

Somehow, along the way, she’d grown attached to the game-playing deviant. And she saw, through all his bluster and lies of omission, that he felt the same for her. Camilla hadn’t believed it was real. She should have. It was there in his actions all along.

Against all odds, despite his rules, Envy liked her.

Not her body. But her mind, her passions. He liked her ruthless, savage side as much as her soft, artistic side. He’d seen her kill a man and he’d seen her walk before a king. There wasn’t anything she could do to shock or disgust him.

But that wasn’t quite true, was it?

Taking a deep breath, she slashed her palm with the blade, ignoring its greedy glow to place her palm on the pillar. Delaying the inevitable only made it worse.

And things were about to become worse enough as it was.

Her attention moved to the Pillars, to the glittering sheet of light that had burst between them, giving off a soft, otherworldly hum. Jasmine, gardenia, wisteria, and musk. Night and its many pleasures. The scents of the Wild Court.

Once they walked through that portal, everything would change.

Envy hadn’t looked at the portal, still wouldn’t.

He’d been watching her.

His expression was carefully blank. But he was no fool. He solved impossible puzzles, and it looked like he’d finally pieced the mystery of her together.

She wondered if this was the one riddle he’d never wanted to solve.

But it was too late.

Before she lost her nerve, Camilla grabbed Envy’s hand and stepped through the portal, emerging directly into the Unseelie King’s stronghold.

They’d won the game, but Camilla couldn’t help but fear she’d just lost so much more.

SIXTY

THE WILD COURT was a tangle of flora and limbs, not unlike the last time Envy had visited this court. He drew in a deep breath, forcing his mind to think of the game, not of hunting down the bastard king and pushing his demon blade through Lennox’s rotten heart.

The portal had spit them out at the back of the king’s garden room, a long rectangular outdoor terrace directly off his throne room where the dark Fae enjoyed dancing and making love under the moon.

Wide paved stones covered in moss were still used for the dance floor.

Trees lining the perimeter twisted toward the night sky, sheer panels hanging between their branches to act as partitions for Fae games.

Flowering ivy crawled up trellises, the walls living and seductive.

Thick, wide trunks carved from the most ancient of trees had been sanded down, used as raw-edged tables to line the dance floor, holding glittering bottles of Fae wine and liquor and overripe fruits. From all outward appearances, it was an enchanted world. An ode to the night and its many wonders.

Envy glanced at Camilla. For a moment, she looked so small and afraid, her gaze locked on the far end of the space. Then she noticed his attention and her expression shuttered. He wanted to grab hold of her hand again but refused to give Lennox any more reason to hurt her.

Camilla took a small step toward the dais at the opposite end of the outdoor chamber, but Envy stopped her.

“Wait.”

Around them, Fae writhed against each other, dancing or fighting or fucking to dark, pulsating music. Behind them, two giant pillars knifed upward, slicing into the night sky like unsheathed swords. The transverse of the Twin Pillars, still sizzling from their arrival.

That dark music, discordant and loud, started pounding like an unsteady heartbeat. Vibrating across the paved stone floor, up the makeshift walls, setting his teeth on edge.

Night-blooming vines twisted around tables and upturned chairs, while Fae rolled around the earth, tangled in each other, completely unaware of their newest guests.

Until all at once they weren’t oblivious anymore.

Envy counted how many Unseelie surrounded them, strategizing the best plan to keep Camilla from harm should they desire to stir up discord.

The dark Fae stared at them, some snickering, some sharing knowing looks.

Against his better judgment, Envy grabbed Camilla’s hand, an unspoken promise that he would not leave her side. No matter what.

Camilla raised her chin, ignoring the growing whispers.

To be Seelie in this place was not ideal.

Envy was proud of her defiance. Of her unwillingness to be cowed.

The Unseelie were midnight creatures, born of moonlight and wickedness. And they were all suddenly still, staring as Camilla dropped Envy’s hand.

She started walking toward the Shadow Storm throne.

“Camilla,” he whispered, charging after her.

No matter what Lennox wanted with her, no matter how their courts felt, it was dangerous for her to march toward him, almost in challenge. Light against dark. The night battling the day.

Envy’s hand twitched toward his dagger. He couldn’t use it before he’d collected his prize.

He prayed Camilla had a plan. That she wouldn’t forget that he still had much at stake.

She stepped nimbly over broken branches and shattered glass, her attention fastened on the Fae male who’d put this cursed game into play. Her expression was as cold as his was.

Lennox, the Unseelie King, had stopped speaking midsentence, watching her approach. Silver-and-white hair cascaded down to his shoulders, his skin a deep bronze. Elegant pointed ears poked from beneath that sheet of ethereal hair.

He was ageless. Beautiful. And utterly without conscience.

It was easy to see why so many mortals thought him a god. He was cold, untouchable. Forbidden. He had no concept of morality. Lennox did as he pleased whenever he pleased. And if someone died? It was their fault for being fragile. Some believed he’d inspired mortal gods, had actually been the great Zeus.

Envy knew he was no mere god, he was a Titan. The beings who birthed the gods for their amusement. But mortals had it wrong in their legends—the Titans weren’t bested by their offspring. They thrived in the chaos.

The way he looked at Camilla… Envy’s sin threatened to ice over the entire court. But finally, Lennox’s gaze, midnight black with glittering stars winking in and out, shifted to Envy.

A cruel smile lifted his full lips.

“Prince Envy.”

While Lennox might have tried to orchestrate the outcome of the game, it had played out differently than he’d anticipated. It was written all over his cold, arrogant face. Something dark paced in his gaze, amused.

In a life that spanned eons, anything that produced a thrill was welcome. Whether stirring up discord, crafting war, or meddling with mortals, Lennox lived for the Wild Hunt he’d once created.

A hunt the Seelie had forbade him from continuing, as once per year, he’d unleashed the most ruthless hunters of their kind. Their prey was human and Fae alike.

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.

Lennox had destroyed the symbol tattooed under her hairline, revealing the truth of what she was. What she’d always been. Unseelie. An Unseelie royal—the beings Envy despised above all others. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him again, couldn’t see the disgust.

After his story of why he hated the Unseelie court, guilt had eaten away at her. Camilla was everything he loathed, symbolized the near destruction of his people.

She hated the king. Hated this court. Hated herself for being too weak and afraid to tell Envy. But he’d kept secrets from her, too. Had initially even lied about his name.

Instead, Camilla glared coolly at Lennox.

“Are we through? I need a bath.”

“Camilla… you don’t…” His laughter was dark and sinister. He glanced at Envy, giving him a conspiratorial look. “Changelings. They do delight. Full Fae, but with human sentiments.”

His gaze was hard when it turned to her.

“There is no Waverly Green for you anymore. Welcome home, Princess. We’ll burn the mortal blight out of you.”

Camilla lost some of her false bravado.

Lennox meant that more literally than figuratively. He would torture her until she became as cruel and twisted as her elder sister and brother. They’d not been given over to the mortal world—they’d been trained to lead their courts. That they weren’t here now indicated they were playing twisted games with their own Fae.

Her younger brother surprised her by stepping forward.

“I’ll bring her to my court.”

Ayden stared their father down, his expression a practiced snarl.

“Two brilliant little fools. More mortal than Fae in spirit.” Lennox nodded. “What trouble might this stir? Leading your courts… or will they lead you? Chaos.”

He considered Ayden’s offer. Then he looked at Envy again.

A slow, saccharine smile curved his mouth.

“My daughter will stay here. With me. The Wild Court could use fresh royal blood. Give me her locket.”

He motioned to a male standing near the dais, one of his personal guards, with a piece of iron piercing his nose. A sign of strength. Of his power. And his penchant for enjoying pain.

Camilla clasped her mother’s locket in her hand, backing away. “This belongs to me.”

Lennox gave her a dark smile.

“Your mother stole it from my coffers before she stole you, too. The locket is mine. And I’ve gone to a lot of trouble to get it back.”

Camilla inhaled sharply, still holding on to the locket as the guard approached. He held a hand out, eyes glittering with challenge. She didn’t hand it over. But he didn’t seem to care.

He sliced the metal from her neck, then brought the prize to his king. Lennox closed his fingers around it, a strange, silver light emanating from his closed fist. Camilla hadn’t known the locket held that kind of power, had been told it repelled Unseelie males.

It worked against Wolf, but the king was different, she supposed.

Had that truly been what Lennox was after all this time—not Camilla, but her locket?

Lennox glanced up, as if he’d forgotten he had an audience. He waved a hand dismissively. “Get the demon’s prize. Send him on his way.”

Lennox flicked his hand toward another member of the court.

Wolf stepped out from behind a tangle of Unseelies, his pale yellow eyes gleaming.

“Claim your prize, Wolf.”

Wolf looked Camilla over, his perusal long and lingering. “With pleasure.”

Unseelie chittered and laughed, delighted by the charged look Wolf gave her.

She kept her reaction perfectly bland.

Once upon a time, he’d been sent to Waverly Green with an invitation for her to return to the Wild Court. She’d refused, of course, but their night together had changed everything.

His expression was as rakish as ever as he slowly dragged his attention over Camilla again. Wolf would never cross any unforgivable lines, but he’d play the part the court expected in public. She knew this was only an act. But Envy didn’t know that.

She sensed him beside her, a storm of barely leashed jealousy whipping below the surface. Envy hated her, might never wish to speak to her again, but his sin was still provoked.

Wolf didn’t appear to notice he was needling him. The Fae strolled down the dais, gaze locked on her. “Let’s get you naked and wet, Princess.”

“I’ll bathe on my own,” she said, knowing what he’d meant.

Wolf did notice Envy’s coiled violence. Was continuing to provoke him.

Camilla recalled the way Envy had fought at the vampire court, knew it wouldn’t end well for anyone if he finally snapped. One glance at Lennox and she realized that was exactly what he was hoping for, had set into motion. Chaos and discord were his happiest melodies.

And he’d played them all.

He wanted Wolf to bait Envy. Wanted an excuse to delay giving the demon his prize.

“Congratulations on your win, Prince Envy,” Lennox said, tone far too innocent. “Unless you’d like to stay and watch our little show, get out.”

The iron-pierced Fae went to usher Envy out, and the demon exploded.

In a movement that was almost too fast to see, the guard flew across the room, landing at the Unseelie King’s feet, his arm and leg bent in the wrong direction.

“You broke my commander,” Lennox said, no emotion in his voice.

An inhuman growl sounded from Envy’s throat. “Don’t push me, Lennox.”

Wolf didn’t retreat, but he stopped walking toward Camilla.

The king eyed Envy speculatively, then shrugged. “You appear more road-weary than I thought. Allow me to make amends. A guest suite will be prepared if you’d prefer to stay and watch the fun.”

With a flick of his wrist, Lennox dismissed them all, the party and chaos once again taking over the night.

Camilla looked at Envy, but the demon turned on his heel and strode after another guard.

She knew no tears or pleading would make a difference.

She was the daughter of his greatest enemy. And Envy would never forgive her for that.

This game had been about getting Camilla back to Faerie from its inception, and Envy’s court had paid a steep price for that.

If there had been any flicker of hope of his forgiving her, that ember had died.