Throne of the Fallen

ENVY PULLED CAMILLA behind him, his battle senses on high alert, the pain inflicted by the hellebane still searing through him, honing his senses to a sharp blade.

They stood outside the private cottage on the outskirts of his grounds. He wanted a chance to speak with Camilla, to process all he’d just witnessed, and to clean himself up before deciding whether he should risk taking her into his castle. He’d need to walk his House first to ensure that the worst of his court’s failing would be hidden.

Now that would have to wait.

A shadow moved along the forest’s edge, bringing with it that sense of darkness that indicated one thing. Fae.

“Step into the clearing, slowly,” Envy commanded.

The Unseelie did.

The male had a shock of white hair, pale yellow eyes, and lashes blacker than ink. His brown boots were scuffed but well made, his shirtsleeves rolled to show off dark bronze forearms, toned and lethal. The shirt was wrinkled, but even in the dark Envy saw the fine weave of the linen. The Fae wore a hat tugged low, hiding his elegant pointed ears.

He looked like a mortal hunter who’d dashed out from the woods, weapon missing, but most didn’t realize he was the weapon.

Envy recognized him by reputation instantly.

“You’re a long way away from hunting maidens in the woods, Wolf.”

“Rumors abound.” The Fae smiled, revealing more of his face and discarding his human disguise. “They say you crowned a new vampire.”

Wolf’s voice was melodic, mesmerizing, and had been used to seduce more than a few mortals over the years. His voice was a sign he’d once held rank in his court, though he was a long way from home now.

Envy didn’t miss the fact that he’d referenced the gossip column. Wolf had likely come to see if the rumors about House Envy were true, testing the ward’s boundaries. They were true, of course, but the ward Envy had placed was smaller than most would guess, surrounding only his House.

“You have a message from Lennox?” Envy asked.

The Fae drew closer, suddenly curious about Camilla. Too curious.

Envy’s dagger was in hand, the blade still faintly glowing from its recent offerings.

The Unseelie noticed it and stepped back, smiling as if amused.

“Rumors, as I said.” Wolf’s grin spread. “Lovely little shocking rumors.”

He was still looking at Camilla, fixated in a way that wouldn’t end well.

Envy stepped forward, dripping menace.

“My patience wanes.”

“I have no message from the king,” Wolf said. “I was simply curious whether the rumors were true. I see that they are. Delightfully so.”

“If you were curious about the new vampire prince, why come here?”

“Those two are unrelated.” The Fae flashed another smile, this one as wolfish as his name. “I’ll be seeing you, fair winter lady. Shifting seasons are always so beautiful.”

Before Envy could run him through with his blade, the Unseelie was gone, shifting from one reality to another.

Envy glanced back at Camilla, his sin threatening to emerge. For a moment, she looked as if she’d seen a ghost.

“Have you met him before?” Envy asked, suspicious.

Her gaze darted to where the Fae had disappeared.

“Everyone’s heard of his legends.”

“Try not to appear so enthralled.” Envy’s mood soured further, noting she hadn’t answered his question. “He hunts women.”

“Those stories aren’t exactly true.” Camilla bit her lower lip after the admission.

“Oh? Do enlighten me, Miss Antonius.”

“Wolf prefers women, but he doesn’t hunt them to eat. Well”—she cleared her throat—“at least not in the way the stories tell it. Wolf’s appetite is… most in Waverly Green believe he tricks maidens into letting him inside their homes. That’s the cautionary tale told by men, at least, but from what I’ve heard, maidens are only too pleased to see Wolf. A night with him is… enough of a threat for men to weave such tall tales.”

He’d battled a vampire and legendary monsters, and Camilla’s face had flushed only when recalling lurid stories of the cursed Unseelie Fae and his bedroom skills. Envy stalked up the stairs to his cottage, wounds stinging.

As if Envy himself hadn’t given her an orgasm with his legendary tongue.

Jealousy, cold and unrelenting, lashed through him.

“Come,” he said, his tone frosty and perhaps a little petty. “Unless you’d like to wait for Wolf to return and see to that.”

After Envy had shown Camilla to her private room and attached bathing chamber, he retired to his own bedroom suite. The cottage was large and well-appointed, fit for a prince who wished for others to envy him. It also happened to be the perfect place to entertain Camilla while he privately checked his court. After tending to his wounds.

He hissed as he slowly peeled off his shirt. His cuts had only partially healed, causing his skin to freshly rip again when he removed his clothing.

Another thing was stinging Envy too. Directly after the battle, he’d waited for the next clue to be delivered. But no message had come.

And as for Camilla… he’d suspected she had secrets, but she’d seemed momentarily stunned by the magic that crackled over her skin like little webs of lightning.

Whether she knew she possessed the skill or it had been a shock remained to be seen. Creatures in nature held such power—electric eels, for one. Leading him to think she might be a shape-shifter.

If she wasn’t fully shifter, she could have some unique parentage; shifter blood from a distant relative would show in such ways.

Fae also possessed skills like hers—magic, and talents. But he hadn’t gotten any indication she had Seelie blood. Her ears were those of a mortal. Until tonight, he hadn’t seen any hint of magic. After he’d massaged her, there had been no sign of an enchantment inked onto her skin. And a glamour could often still be detected, even slightly.

If not Fae or shifter, then what else could she be?

Envy’s hands were on his trouser strings when he heard her sharp inhalation behind him.

He hadn’t looked in the mirror; he’d already known the wounds on his back weren’t pretty. They were deep, down to the bone in some places, and the hellebane ate away at his flesh.

They might even scar, for once.

The tattoo that symbolized his House, starting just above his elbow on his right bicep before winding across his shoulder and onto his chest, might even need touching up.

“They didn’t hold back,” she said softly.

Her touch was featherlight and far too tempting.

He knew what those painter’s hands were capable of.

“Miss Antonius.” Envy meant for his tone to come out harsh, but it was too low, too inviting even to his own ears. “You should go back to your suite.”

“I have a salve.”

Her fingers traced his shoulder muscles, bunched and tense, until they slowly relaxed from her ministrations.

“And some herbs for your bath. They were gifted from Blade.”

Envy smiled at that, appreciating a smart move when he saw one.

The new crown prince was already strengthening their alliance, making amends for the previous ruler. Envy doubted the Unseelie King would be pleased that this particular game had landed so smoothly. Lennox no doubt had wanted to create chaos and discord, to shake up the courts.

Not to mention, now that Envy knew Lennox had promised Zarus he’d unite their courts through marriage, Lennox would be spitting mad when he found out Blade intended to take a vampire bride. He’d already announced that he’d choose from one of the noble families in Malice Isle, further securing his claim to the throne.

It was another wise move. Now all the nobles who might have plotted to take Blade’s crown would plot to have their heirs ruling beside him. The new vampire prince wouldn’t risk marrying a Fae and causing any more strife.

Besides, Blade refused to fall for anyone who could be food. He’d made that abundantly clear. And that was partly why Envy had known Camilla would be safe near him. He’d only ever heard of the vampire deviating from his rule once—when he’d gotten tangled up with a werewolf.

Enemies made interesting bedmates.

Lennox must not have known, or thought Blade could be swayed to his side.

“Your arm and chest… twin wolves?” she asked.

He swallowed thickly. Thankful the ink was still intact.

“A double-headed wolf. My House symbol.”

Envy imagined Camilla taking in the piece, how it covered his entire upper arm, then the right side of his chest. The lower portion of the wolf’s body began right above his elbow; it stood on its hind legs, body reaching up to his shoulder. Its first head angled toward his chest, curving across his shoulder, its muzzle closed and somehow peaceful, contemplative.

The second head was set lower, taking up his pectorals, and was vicious. Its jaws hung open, teeth snapping at an unseen enemy.

With the exception of their vivid green eyes, Envy had chosen the tattoo without color, wanting the contrast cast by the shadows to give it stark beauty. Chiaroscuro always fascinated him, the study of light versus dark.

His wolves were forever chasing after something just out of reach.

Never content. Monsters, green-eyed and vicious. Like him.

Without any warning, Camilla slathered Envy’s first cut with the salve. It burned like hell. Envy gritted his teeth as those lovely little hands continued to slowly torture him with the herbs. Admittedly, the first wound already felt better.

In no time she’d tended to each claw mark and laceration.

The hole where the bull’s horn had pierced him was worse, but soon that, too, slowly began to stitch itself together, the skin itching and stinging like fire ants had nested there.

Camilla pressed a hand to his good shoulder, turning him until he glanced down at her.

She winced as if feeling his pain firsthand, though most was only a dull ache now.

His chest held only one wound, but it was by far the worst of them. Panthera had gotten one good hit in, its claw nearly gutting him.

Her gaze followed the jagged line from his chest to his navel.

Some emotion flickered there.

She touched his chest softly, her brow knitting. “Your heart…”

If it could have pounded, it would have been doing so now.

Envy gently withdrew her hands. “Will grow back soon enough.”

Horror washed over her features. “What? How?”

“Let’s just say I would have followed you to the vampire court sooner if I hadn’t run into a slight… issue.”

Camilla stared at him, seeming unsure of what to say.

“I’m sorry,” she said, quietly, softly.

It made something primitive inside him sit up, snarl.

“I don’t recall you wielding a blade, pet. Do not apologize for someone else.”

“Let me rephrase.” Silver eyes glimmered with annoyance. “I’m sorry, but this will hurt terribly.”

Camilla smeared the salve down his front, her touch no longer gentle as she coated the wound, leaving no minute section untended.

He swore and jerked back, but the little hell beast moved with him, finishing the job with brutal efficiency.

“There.” Her tone was clipped as she twisted the cap back on the salve. “That should be sufficient. Blade’s note said to reapply if necessary.”

She slapped a bag of herbs to his still-healing chest.

“Add two generous pinches of this mixture to your bath and soak for twenty minutes. It won’t improve your attitude, but your wounds should heal nicely.”

Cursed saints above, he was hard as granite. Again.

She turned to leave, and he snatched her hand, drawing her close against him.

Her desire hit him harder than any blow he’d taken in the arena. It was the first powerful emotion he’d felt from her since they’d come to his circle.

“Allow me to properly thank you, Miss Antonius.”

Before she could offer him another smart comment, his mouth came down on hers.