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.
They’d emptied the chamber of everything except for the oversized wool rug, a high-backed chair, two stools, and a small table to set the chalice on. And chains.
“Too soon to tell.” Envy lifted a shoulder, forcing casualness he didn’t feel. His gaze slid between the demon strapped in the chair—his unfocused eyes feral with fear—to the clock. For the hundredth time in a second. Thus far, there was no discernible change. The demon seemed as terrified and as lost to that terrible fog as ever.
“Now?” Alexei pressed.
“Does he look restored?” Envy snapped as the demon struggled against his restraints. Envy blew out a breath, bringing his emotions back under control. “We’ll know when it works. He’ll recognize us.”
It had begun when Envy had picked up the Chalice of Memoria, the activation runes glimmering hunter green. It looked like it used to. Envy had cast the same spell he’d always used before, then offered the chalice to Lord Alden.
The demon had knocked the first attempt out of Envy’s hands.
Then Alexei had come in, held him down.
When that didn’t work, they’d strapped the demon to the chair and forced the chalice to his lips, tipping his head back to pour the spelled drink down his throat.
Forty-seven excruciating seconds passed. The fog didn’t dissipate from behind the demon’s eyes. Frustration built in Envy’s chest.
Winning the game was supposed to save his court.
To think it had been one more false hope…
“Fuck!” Envy paced around the room, mind whirling.
He could seek the Crone again—the creator of the Underworld itself. The Crone was to goddesses what Titans were to mortal gods. If anyone could help, it would be her. But he’d been desperate once before, had asked her years back.
She’d laughed in his face and vowed to do worse next time.
He supposed he could kidnap her daughters, force her hand.
But that wouldn’t end well for any of them.
Envy walked to the arched window on the far side of the room, gazing out at the grounds. It was twilight, a soft blanket of snow falling, the flakes tumbling and swirling as they danced down to the winter grass.
“Your Highness?”
There was an odd edge in Alexei’s tone.
Envy twisted, gaze snapping to Lord Alden. The demon blinked slowly, then squeezed his eyes shut. His head moved from side to side, as if shaking some internal nightmare away.
Envy moved closer, hope igniting once again.
He paused a few feet away, his breath lodged deep in his chest.
Another thirty seconds ticked by.
A minute.
Come on, he silently urged. Open your eyes, recognize where you are, remember who you are.
Lord Alden’s hands fisted, his wrists twisting, testing the restraints on the arms of the chair. Envy and Alexei both leaned forward, neither daring to speak. Lord Alden opened his eyes, squinting at first, then glanced down at his bound arms.