Throne of the Fallen

THE PAINT, CANVAS, and brushes are all here in the studio,” Envy said by way of greeting, keeping his back purposefully to the artist he’d summoned at first light.

He’d left the Edwardses’ early that morning, also sending a message of apology for missing the celebratory betrothal breakfast.

“I expect you’ll work swiftly, Miss Antonius.”

He turned then, surprised that Camilla did not betray any of her feelings upon entry. It wasn’t like her to be so… quiet.

Envy had been certain she’d be furious that he’d left without so much as a goodbye. Or predictably lovestruck.

She was neither.

Her attention simply swept around the room, passing over him like he was one more canvas to catalogue. She gave no indication that Envy had been on his knees, nestled between her thighs, a few short hours before.

He bristled.

“Should you require anything else, Alexei will see to it.”

“Thank you, Lord Synton,” she said at last. “If you’ll have him bring a cup of tea, that will be all.”

Envy’s brows hit his hairline. Did she take him for a servant now?

“What of scones and clotted cream? Shall he bring some of those as well?”

“Unnecessary, but thank you for being thoughtful.”

Camilla ignored the obvious sarcasm in his tone, striding over to the wooden stool and easel, running a hand lovingly across the polished wooden grain before hoisting up her chosen canvas.

She’d dressed in a charcoal gown today, the color deep and rich in pigment. A line of pearls ran up the sleeves from her wrists to her forearms, and a second line traveled along the front of her bodice from neck to navel.

Envy wanted to pin her hands above her head and rip the pretty pearls off with his teeth.

“You may leave now,” Camilla said over her shoulder, almost as an afterthought. As if she’d forgotten he was there. “I work better alone.”

Envy stared after her.

Camilla did not drink at the party last night, so it wasn’t as if she’d been in some drunken stupor. He was positive she remembered coming all over his tongue, sweet and warm like honey. Was she choosing to ignore that?

Certainly, last night had been shocking. But Camilla had survived the crisis of Lord Garrey and moved on. Had decided she wished to live, to celebrate life.

He’d found that highly attractive.

He hardened just recalling her soft moans, her rapture pure and free as she fully submitted to the pleasure he’d given her.

She’d bitten her lip to keep anyone from hearing, and thrashed across those sheets, tangling them up just as he’d wanted her legs to be tangled with his when he climbed on top of her.

When she’d started undulating her hips, directing him to the exact place she wanted him, it took everything in him not to sink his cock into her wet heat the way they’d both craved him to. Camilla was a surprisingly vivacious lover and he’d only had one small taste.

One being the operative term.

His rule of only bedding someone once typically included one night of lust.

Which usually included every possible position, every act of pleasure. Then it made sense that their time together was over forever.

There wasn’t anything typical about how he’d gone about things with Camilla last night.

He’d left before he couldn’t tear himself away.

The moment she came, he’d imagined pulling her on top of him, dragging her up and down along his hard length until they’d both been teased into a frenzy.

Envy wanted to make love to her properly.

If he was only going to have one night to experience Camilla, he wouldn’t waste it. Plus, he’d promised not to ruin her, and had he given in last night, there was no way Lord and Lady Edwards would have missed the sound of Camilla’s moans.

Propriety had fucked him again. He was a walking, frustrated ball of gods-damned virtue, even after tending to himself with thoughts of her taste making him so cursedly aroused, he’d come with a demonic roar. Several, increasingly frustrating times. Each time he came, he was less satisfied than before. He craved her and his hand did not compare.

And her indifference was driving him positively feral. If this were a game played between them, he’d have to admit she currently had the upper hand. All previous lovers had been near savage with jealousy after he’d graced their sheets, begging for more. And that was the way he preferred things.

“Was there anything else, my lord?”

Envy’s attention snapped back to Camilla. She’d been watching him, and he’d been oblivious.

He was never oblivious.

That was antithesis to his very nature. Envy planned, he was meticulous, he missed no details. Everything was a puzzle for him to solve. If Camilla thought to best him in this game of seduction, she truly had no idea who she was playing against. If she wished to be indifferent, he would be doubly so. Use her move against her.

He gave her a cold look.

“Do not dismiss me in my own home, Miss Antonius. If it happens again, I’ll be forced to remind you who serves whom.”

Amusement ghosted across her features.

He had the distinct impression she knew exactly who’d served whom last night. Gods-damn it all. None of his shots were landing.

“I imagine that will be very hard for you, my lord.”

Camilla’s gaze slowly dropped to his trousers before she flicked it back up, mischief glittering in her silver eyes. His cock jerked in response, eager to draw her attention again.

“Since it appears that you’ll have your hands full thinking, I really must get to work.”

Saints curse him, Envy’s arousal grew at her second blatant dismissal.

If this had been any other time, any other circumstance, he’d have taken Camilla right there on the paint, using her perfect little bottom and his handprints to capture each thrust of pleasure on the canvas.

Then he’d hang the damn thing in his foyer.

Let her dismiss him then.

Rock-hard and frustrated in more ways than one, Envy left Camilla to her painting.

Out in the corridor, his cursed brother leaned casually against the wall, carving thin strips off a pear and popping them into his mouth. For once, his expression was oddly contemplative.

“What?” Envy snarled.

“You’re in trouble,” Lust said, pointing out the obvious. “The lust coming off you would make my court blush. Ever think maybe Camilla was chosen to distract you?”

Envy had.

Which meant the game master had chosen her with care. And that enraged him.

Camilla deserved to be more than a pawn, designed to pierce him deeply.

“In a few hours, she won’t be a problem anymore. I’ll have both the Hexed Throne and the next clue.”

And Miss Camilla Antonius would have a missing and presumed dead fiancé, one who’d left his entire mortal estate to his would-be wife.

It wasn’t part of their original bargain, but once Envy got what he was after he did not plan on returning to Waverly Green, and it made sense to give Camilla an added boon. He’d surmised that her finances had taken a downturn after her father’s death. Otherwise, he couldn’t imagine why she’d resort to creating forgeries. It was the least he could do to repay her for helping his court.

He would also see to it that Vexley would never be an issue for her again. Nor would any other player. He had Alexei working with his spies now, tracking down anyone else who was mildly suspicious in Waverly Green.

He’d kill the whole realm before anyone else got to her.

Lust gave him a doubtful look.

“Bring her to House Lust first, when you visit. If she starts with House Wrath, she’ll think we’re a bunch of vengeful savages who don’t know how to have any fun.”

Envy rolled his eyes. From what his spies had revealed, Wrath and his wife were having lots of savage fun. All over their House. In fact, rumors were circulating that Wrath had barely seen his court since his queen’s coronation. They’d been too busy playing with chains and knives, stoking each other’s fury like deviants.

If they kept this up, there would be a hellish lot of nieces and nephews soon.

“Camilla will come to House Envy first,” Envy said without thinking, immediately regretting it when Lust flashed a victorious grin his way. “Why are you still here?”

Lust lifted a shoulder and dropped it.

“Can’t I just be concerned for my brother? I know something’s wrong. We all do.”

Envy’s attention narrowed on his brother. It wasn’t an outright lie, but he sensed Lust was fishing. And he was getting entirely too close to the truth.

“You and Gluttony have a wager going?”

“There is that aspect as well.”

“Get out.”

Envy turned and began walking toward the kitchens. Apparently, he had a cup of tea to request for Miss Antonius. Then he’d take another long, icy bath. Alone.

“She doesn’t succumb to my influence, at least not strongly.”

Lust’s shift in topic drew him up short.

“Have you tried to use your power on her?” he continued.

“The rules of the game won’t allow me to use magic,” Envy finally admitted.

It was a weak excuse, one his brother didn’t bother to call out.

“Wait until after she paints the throne.” Lust was quiet for a moment. “Then try.”

Lust didn’t say it, but Envy knew what he was thinking: that Camilla might be very different from Envy’s last mortal.

Lust, for all his incessant bed hopping, was a secret romantic.

But Envy had already decided how this story would end.

In his world the only happily-ever-after he sought was for his court.