Kingdom of the Cursed (Kingdom of the Wicked Book 2)

“As soon as you start to sense the magic’s caress, you must grip your own emotions in a tight fist. You naturally gravitate toward anger; use that initially, if you must.”

Wrath circled me in the weapons room, a predatory gleam in his eyes as he ran his attention over the gown. The consummate hunter stalking his prey. Little did he know, he wasn’t the one who’d set this particular trap. Nor would he be emerging victorious.

Tonight he was definitely more beast than man, especially in matters resembling battle.

With snug leather pants and matching sleeveless armor that buckled up the front, he seemed transformed. This was not the well-mannered prince, presiding over a court of demons. This was the creature made for fighting. And it was the first glimpse I’d had of the battle-scarred warrior outside of his training with Anir earlier tonight.

His teeth flashed in a poor imitation of a smile, furthering my suspicion that he was all animal now. And he liked it. I let my gaze travel over him. Maybe I did, too.

“It will feel like a whisper across your skin. Subtle enough to barely be noticeable. Your free will is all you need to remember. You will not succumb to anyone if you choose not to.”

The atmosphere between us was charged. After he forced me to stab him we weren’t quite on friendly terms, and we weren’t solidly consumed by hatred anymore, either. With him looking like War and me Seduction, things were bound to become interesting during this lesson.

“So, what you’re saying is to focus on my mind and will. Or imagine killing you to maintain command over my emotions. That should be easy enough.” I smiled. “If I master tonight’s lesson, I think you should agree to grovel before me. In fact, I’d love to see you on your knees, begging.”

His attention drifted back over my bodice.

Tiny ribbons laced up the front. I harbored no illusions as to what he’d planned for such a dress, especially if our training was anything close to the last session. He would no doubt use demonic influence on me to undo each and every one of the bows. I wouldn’t stop until I stood before him, clad only in the lace undergarments I wore beneath it.

Or maybe those were my own secret desires surfacing. I’d chosen those particular unmentionables with care.

“Greed is interested in wagers. I am not.”

“Yet it sounds like your pride will take a blow if I win. Which is why you won’t kneel before me. Perhaps you cannot stomach the idea of surrendering to anyone. Even your potential future wife.”

“Make no mistake, Emilia. When I go to my knees before you, it will be to conquer, not surrender. If you harbor any doubts, I shall enjoy proving you wrong. Now unbuckle my armor.”

His statement was laced with magical command.

I felt the slight tingling sensation he’d described as his demonic influence sought to take hold of my emotions, bending them to the demon prince’s will. I was halfway across the weapons room before I shook myself out of the sinful grip. A tiny thrill went through me. I didn’t need my magic to fight against him. Only my will.

“Unbuckle my armor, now. Then take your blade to my belt and cut it off.”

This time, Wrath used the full strength of his power. Magic caressed me, urged me forward. His armor was undone and discarded in seconds.

I slipped my hand beneath my gown and removed the dagger hidden there in one swift motion. The blade was to his belt by the time I regained control.

Wrath’s mouth pressed into a firm line. “You’re distracted.”

“I can’t imagine why.” I pretended to think on it. “Maybe it has to do with the invitation I received for the Feast of the Wolf. I’ve heard Gluttony’s parties are legendary for their debauchery.”

“Most gatherings are laden with sin and vice. It’s the way of this realm, and why we’re training. But that’s not what you’re worried about.”

“I thought I was to have some small say in where the feast was thrown.” I fiddled with the dagger. “I don’t—I’m not looking forward to it.”

“You’ll be able to sense any emotional manipulation by then. And you will be equipped to break free of their influence should they behave poorly.”

“It’s not that, either.”

He scanned my face. “It won’t be pleasant, but it won’t be the worst thing you’ll live through.”

“As always, you are exceptional with easing nerves. I…” I shook my head, then bent to replace my dagger in my thigh sheath. “It’s not just the fear being ripped from me.”

“My brothers will not hurt you.”

“I don’t know how to dance.”

His brows raised. “You won’t be forced to dance if you don’t want to.”

I didn’t meet his gaze. Dancing would allow me an opportunity to spend time with each of his brothers. I imagined there would be some talking involved, and I didn’t want my lack of refinement to impede my mission. Since I no longer could attempt to spell the wine, dancing and sipping a refreshment after would be perfect for conversation.

“You’re probably right.” I forced a smile. “It’s silly to worry about.”

Wrath didn’t respond right away. He cocked his head to the side, eyes narrowed. “You danced at the bonfire the night you encountered Lust. You were magnificent then. I don’t see why you’ll have any trouble with a waltz.”

I lifted a shoulder and turned my attention back to the table near us. Several strange daggers had been neatly lined up. They were solid black with one long piece cut out in the center of the hilt and the blade.

“Eight-inch throwing knives.” Wrath moved to the table and plucked up a knife. “They are solid steel with a smooth handle as to not disturb your grip and are weighted in the front to make throwing more accurate. Would you like to practice?”

I ran a finger over the cool metal. “Yes.”

“Take it by the bottom. We’ll work on a spin technique.”

I held it by the handle and aimed for the wooden target Wrath indicated at the far end of this section of the weapons rooms. It flew through the air, landing left of center, and fell to the ground. The demon prince nodded and handed me another blade. “The knife didn’t stick because you’re standing too close.”

“How can you tell that?”

“When it spins, if the blade is angled down when it falls, it indicates you need to step back. Half of throwing knives and getting them to reach your target is all about where you’re standing.”

I shifted my stance, then repeated the steps. This time the hit came to the right of the red circle and stuck. A deep sense of elation went through me.

I held my hand out, waiting for the next blade, and was surprised to feel Wrath’s fingers wrapping around mine instead. I twisted, confused.

“What are—”

“We’re starting a new lesson.” He gently pulled me closer. “Place one hand on my shoulder. And hold lightly to this one. Good.” He angled our bodies, then straightened to his full height. “The movements are simple. We’ll be dancing in a box shape. Step back on the ball of your right foot, and follow with your left. Keep them a foot apart as we move.”

“We can’t dance here.”

“Of course we can.”

We struck an odd pair. Without his armor, Wrath’s chest was bare, his leather pants molded to his form, and I was dressed in crimson silk. He didn’t seem to mind. He acted as if he were in the finest evening attire, too.

The warrior prince guided us slowly through the steps, keeping us shoulder-width apart as we swept back, to the sides and forward in a loose interpretation of a box.

I watched our feet, worried I’d step on his or get tangled up in his legs.

“Tilt your chin up so you can gaze adoringly into my eyes.” He grinned down at my scowl. “I want you to focus on how handsome I am, how talented at dancing and killing, and forget everything else. Except for how much you want to kiss me.”

I couldn’t help myself; I laughed. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Perhaps.” His voice turned low and seductive as his hand slid down to the small of my back, drawing me a little closer. “But you’re waltzing like a goddess now.”

The warmth of him, his praise, the hard muscle beneath my fingertips… all had me swaying nearer. Wrath placed his lips against my ear. “You’re—”

“Is this a godsdamn ballroom now?” Anir propped himself against the doorjamb, arms crossed. A lazy grin spread across his face as he batted his lashes. “Will you be teaching this new technique to all of the soldiers, your highness, or just us pretty ones?”

With what appeared to be immense effort, Wrath tore his gaze from me, but didn’t release us from our position. “A good fighter is skilled in weapons. A great fighter is skilled in dance. Perhaps I’ll appoint you as the new dance master.”

“While that sounds titillating, I do come with news from the dungeon.” Anir pushed himself up from the spot where he’d casually leaned, his expression serious. “It’s the mortal.”

Wrath tensed. “What happened?”

Anir’s attention slid to me. “He’s asking for Emilia.”

“Antonio?” I stepped away from Wrath, heart thundering. “He’s here?”