Throne of the Fallen

THINGS HAD CHANGED inside the Wild Court since the last time Envy had attended a soirée there, more than a century before.

And not for the better.

Unseelie gatherings used to be sinful, delicious events. Where wine flowed freely, lovers paired off for a night of fun, and the king and queen ruled over all with dark glee. Art and passion were celebrated above all. When the moon was full, even better.

The entire Unseelie court had been crafted as an ode to the moon, the chambers all designed to mirror its shifting phases. Most of the castle roof was made of glass, allowing the moonlight to bathe everyone strolling along the floors below. All the furnishings were in silvers and midnight blues and plush black velvets. Little fairy orbs floated in the chambers and corridors, to make guests feel like they were walking among the stars.

It was ethereal, grand, otherworldly in a way that both seduced and relaxed. All the senses were fed by its beauty, and the wine… it was transportive. Addictive. The flavors rich and decadent and made to be savored. Spicy, sweet, sour, and robust.

Demonberry wine came close, but nothing tasted the way Faerie wine did. It found every fun, passionate part of a person and magnified it, giving them confidence to dance and sing and fuck and create whatever their innermost passions called for. As long as guests were consenting adults, the Wild Court became the individual’s fantasy.

Everyone wanted an invitation to the Wild Court back then. From Princes of Hell to witches and the normally stoic shifters. Lust even envied the dark Fae for their full-moon indulgences, honoring the heavens from which they drew their power.

That was not the Wild Court Envy saw now.

He walked into the Crescent Court, which had once been the most beautiful of all the chambers. Now it was dark, and not just because the ceiling had been painted black. Torches burned around the room, the fire heavily licking the air.

High above, guests had been penned in cages, like cattle awaiting slaughter. Horned Fae took turns taunting them, setting pokers into a nearby fire until the metal glowed crimson, then screamed along with the humans, whose flesh sizzled and scarred.

The sickly-sweet scent of burnt flesh wafted through the castle, the smoke prickling Envy’s eyes. That wasn’t the worst of the horrors or depravity on display.

Humans already chosen from their pens were tied to tables, their meat being carved from their bones while they still lived. Even for a Prince of Hell, it was horrific. Then Envy stopped short, recognizing Lord Harrington.

He was screaming as they peeled his flesh away strip by strip.

Bile seared up Envy’s throat, burning as much as the rage he choked back down.

Lennox had been a mischievous king, rejoicing in his wickedness, but this was beyond depraved. Beyond cruel.

Wolf sidled up to Envy, a dark cocktail lightly smoking in one hand.

Envy would pay a serious amount of coin to send the damn male on his way.

“Welcome to the new Wild Court.” Wolf sipped his drink, attention straying to a nearby fairy whose wings had been set on fire. “Home to the female you refuse to claim.”

Wolf tossed back the rest of his cocktail, then threw the glass against the wall, smiling as a courtier cursed him.

“If you think Lennox will treat her any differently just because he wanted her back, you really are a dumb fuck.” He twisted, dropping a mockery of a bow. “Your Highness.”

“She’s Fae.”

“Do you think he cares?” Wolf asked quietly. “Lennox wanted the necklace first. Camilla second. And only because Prim Róis kidnapped her. Do you think he’ll be kind to the daughter who refused to come home? Look around, Your Highness, does it seem like Lennox likes mortals? Like he would appreciate one of his heirs defying him for them? You were in Waverly Green for a time… notice anything familiar?”

A sick feeling gripped Envy. Lennox had targeted the city Camilla loved.

“How long.” Envy didn’t ask so much as demand.

“The mortals?” Wolf paused. “I thought you would have pieced it together.”

“I’ve had a lot on my mind,” Envy snapped. He still hadn’t fully healed from his torture. His power needed to be replenished and he needed to get the fuck out of this court to save his demons before he couldn’t get out. “Is he only taking from Waverly Green?”

Wolf glanced around, lowering his voice.

“For now.”

“And how is he doing it?”

“Now that he’s brought Camilla back, he’s somehow been able to open a new portal. By uniting her locket with a key.”

“The portal key.”

Envy’s mind spun. The game had never been about him at all.

“What does the portal do?”

Wolf waved at the scene around them. “It lets Lennox come and go in the mortal realm whenever he pleases. Specifically, from the dark market. All these humans?” He scanned the room again. “They’re only the beginning of Lennox’s new nightmare court. This is what he brought tonight, a lesson for Camilla. Imagine a week from now, a month. We are outside the Seven Circles here. Our wards legendary. Even your king cannot breach this territory if Lennox doesn’t will him to.”

“It needs to stop. My brothers won’t let it stand.”

“But you will?” Wolf studied him for a long moment. “Better not keep the king waiting.”

A fight broke out behind Wolf, and Envy saw his mask return. With a look of puckish delight, he howled and flung himself into the fray, biting and snarling and punching his way through the growing madness.

Envy watched impassively, the brawlers giving him a wide berth. Even the most rabid Unseelie sensed the menace radiating from him.

The Wild Court wasn’t Envy’s problem to solve. He had his own court to mend. And yet… these weren’t all strangers. They were humans he’d come to know, even briefly, while he’d been in Waverly Green. They’d come to his estate, danced at his ball.

And this torture was beyond any Fae amusement.

He could not imagine what Camilla would feel when she saw it. Hoped she was somewhere far away.

Envy pushed through the fight that had grown to two dozen Fae, heading toward the throne. Wolf was correct about one thing: Camilla was in many ways more mortal than Fae.

Surely the king would not subject his own daughter to this?

Envy hadn’t even posed the question to himself before he knew the answer.

His steps faltered as he took in the horrific sight next to the throne.

There, dressed in Envy’s colors, hung proof of what Wolf had said about the Unseelie King. Lennox would make Camilla pay for denying him.

Was making her pay.

Envy’s freshly regenerated heart thudded painfully, his need to protect urging him forward. But he had to plot his next move carefully.

This scene might have been designed to prey on Envy’s reaction to seeing Camilla trapped in a cage a dozen feet off the ground.

Or it might just be a punishment the Unseelie King doled out to a defiant child. Maybe this was his way of breaking Camilla’s will.

Nothing would surprise Envy when it came to Lennox and his manipulations. He took in her prison, noting with horror that it was much worse than he’d thought at first glance.

The birdcage was strung up over a fire, the flames licking greedily at the metal floor, heating it to an angry, orange-red hue. Inside, Camilla had been chained by iron handcuffs to the cage’s center pole.

Envy stared at the welts forming on her skin, at the smoke curling around her shoes. The metal floor must be unbearably hot, but Camilla stared out defiantly, silver eyes blazing star-bright, jaw locked. Like she refused to allow one tear to fall, to show one ounce of pain, to spite her father.

Envy went still, the full scope of what Lennox had done sinking in.

Unlike a human who would eventually succumb to the torture, Camilla’s immortality wouldn’t let her die. She would be tortured nightly, over and over until the king eventually tired and found a new game to play.

How many of the friends and acquaintances she’d made over the years would he parade past her during that time? All because she’d chosen a life for herself.

Envy now stood before the throne.

“Lennox.”

The Unseelie King’s head swiveled, his dark eyes glassy and unfocused. The chaos and fighting were fueling his power so much he was drunk on it.

“Shame you didn’t bring any other mortals,” the king slurred. “That last one amused. Greatly. The things she liked to do with her mouth… well, I’m sure you remember.”

Envy kept his attention on Lennox, made sure he didn’t glance in Camilla’s direction. His mask would slip if he did.

“Give me the chalice.”

Lennox sat forward. “That’s not all you want, though, is it? You want my daughter.”

Lennox was prying, testing. Envy threw a wall up around his emotions.

“Already had her. I don’t do repeats.”

One side of Lennox’s mouth curled up. “Interesting.”

He flicked his attention to where Camilla was trapped in the cage; Lennox was trying to force Envy to follow his gaze. He didn’t.

Lennox eyed him again, looking bored. Envy was no longer the most amusing creature in this room.

“Perhaps you and I are more alike than previously thought. I, too, believe in rules. A win is a win. Here’s your prize.”

They were not alike at all.

The king held up the Chalice of Memoria. The gold glinted in the moonlight, the runes stark as tattoos. Magic hummed from it, like sound from a struck tuning fork, almost lost in the cacophony behind them.

Lennox didn’t move from where he sat on his throne, forcing Envy to take the two steps up to him.

He felt Camilla’s gaze on him, would know the feel of it anywhere.

He did not succumb to the temptation to drive his House dagger through the Fae. At least not yet.

Envy gently wrapped his fingers around the chalice, the magic flaring when it recognized its owner. It had taken centuries, but he’d finally be able to save his court. Envy’s grip on it tightened, and the Unseelie King let it go, that mocking smirk still fixed to his face.

“Congratulations, Your Highness.” Lennox’s voice was silken, low. “I’ll give my daughter your regards. Well, after the show.”

Envy couldn’t help it; he glanced over at Camilla. Her expression was a mask of regret and pain. She held Envy’s gaze, as if silently saying a final goodbye. She knew what he’d been after.

And now he couldn’t linger.

“My little dove needs to be reminded what happens when she flies the proverbial coop. Her mother played a dangerous game, stealing her away. All because I was… how did she put it? Losing myself to depravity. As if Prim Róis ever felt an ounce of anything else herself.”

Envy’s heartbeat tripled, his mind racing. When he spoke, his tone was bored.

“You never sent her away.”

“Of course I didn’t. She’s far too valuable. Why else do you think that bitch queen kidnapped her?” Lennox stood, eyes and hair rippling darker. “Time to celebrate your princess!” he called out to his court. “Who wants to play with her in the cage?”

The Unseelie behind them erupted. In their excitement they were tearing one another apart, limbs and wings and talons flying. They wanted to hurt their princess. Watch her burn.

Later, he’d blame the influence of the wicked court, fueling his magic. He’d claim the chalice had restored him. He’d say that his hatred for Lennox made him snap. He’d lie.

When the first Fae climbed up to claw into that cage, ripping Camilla’s dress with its talons, Envy became the demon he was.

He thought of Camilla being trapped in that cage for eternity, thought of the Fae mocking her, hurting her. And the magic he’d resisted wielding to free his wings, the power he didn’t have to spare… shattered against the full might of his sin releasing.

He felt the ward around his circle break. Felt the minds of his demons slipping from his grasp. He knew he had only a few minutes, which he needed to make count.

Then he needed to be gone.

Dark, glittering emerald wings shot out from between his shoulder blades, his feathers razor-sharp, slicing through the Fae gathered near him like daggers.

Blood splattered across the silver floor.

It wasn’t nearly enough. It wasn’t Lennox’s blood.

His wings pulsed with unspoken power, the spells from the Aether Scrolls tattooed across each feather, inert for decades, searing to life. They called to him, begged him to use them. They offered a cruel spell for a crueler king. But they offered him something else first.

He plucked one of his feathers and flung it swiftly at the cage, its magically razored edge blasting the door open, freeing Camilla.

Lennox let loose a howl of rage.

Envy turned to the king, a vicious smile curving his mouth. He held his House dagger in one hand now, aiming it straight at the Unseelie King’s heart.

“Get in the cage, Lennox.”

Envy knew the king wouldn’t submit easily.

He sneered. “You first, demon.”

Lennox unleashed his moonbeam magic, blanketing them all in a complete whiteout that temporarily stole all sense of sight and sound. Like a blizzard crafted of moonlight.

Envy realized this wasn’t the end. A new game had just begun.

And this one would end in death.