He was starting to want much more.
Not starting. He wanted more before she’d ever left his side.
And with the game nearly won, perhaps he could have it all.
“When you’re ready,” he said, handing her his House dagger, hilt first. “Let’s end this.”
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.