Throne of the Fallen

“ARE YOU READY?” Wolf’s voice carried through Camilla’s bedchamber.

She stepped out from behind the ornate dressing screen, her silk floor-length gown a beautiful lavender gray.

Camilla looked every inch an Unseelie princess as she situated a flower crown on her head. She twisted to the side, admiring the silver cuff she wore on one of her elongated ears. Little moons and stars were carved along the metal, an ode to her heritage.

She’d stopped wearing hunter green days ago, when the Prince of Envy made no attempt to contact her. When he’d left without uttering a single word, not even a curse.

She’d been foolishly hopeful. Those first few nights. Thinking he’d returned to his court, save them, then he’d be back.

Fighting with her.

Kissing her.

Playing games they both loved.

Surely he had something to say after… everything they’d been through. Camilla thought his freeing her from her father’s cruel games meant he’d forgiven her. Or would at least allow her the chance to explain. To admit how terrible she’d felt, keeping this secret.

But she’d been so afraid. Scared that he’d react exactly this way.

His silence spoke loud and clear. The Prince of Envy was never coming back. And Camilla needed to move on with her life, help her brother Ayden establish his temporary rule, then return home, to Wisteria Way. She missed her gallery, her cat, and Kitty.

Wolf gave her a long once-over, momentarily snapping his mouth shut.

The gown was indecent by Waverly Green standards—clinging to every curve like a dream. In the Wild Court it was rather tame. But she was not interested in playing courtly games. At least not here. Things might have been different if her mother had never kidnapped her, bound most of her magic, and made her grow up human. Maybe if she’d grown up in Faerie she’d be as abominable as her older brother and sister.

Wolf’s gaze slid back up, his yellow eyes darkening. He’d made his intentions clear.

The blessed reprieve lasted only a moment. Then Wolf started in again.

“Ayden cannot rule in your father’s place forever,” he said. “We don’t even know if he’s capable. He might disappear one night and play carnival again.”

“Well, until our mother decides to return, there’s not much choice, is there?” Camilla said, her tone as gentle as she could manage.

“Your mother might not ever return, Princess.”

They’d had this same disagreement for the last week, and it was growing tedious. Camilla wanted to return to Waverly Green. Had no interest in staying to help rule the Wild Court. She had no interest in ruling the court she was supposed to see to, either. It had been running as a principality for decades and was doing just fine.

“You know I have no wish to stay here,” she said. “My brother will marry soon and have an heir. In a few decades the issue will resolve itself. His heir will rule over his court until—and if—our mother returns.”

Over the past week, Wolf had helped her glamour the minds of all who’d been tortured by the king, a necessary evil, a choice Camilla did not make easily before sending them home again.

It was one of what would be many difficult decisions in the wake of Lennox’s death.

Wolf wanted Camilla to take hold of the Wild Court before her debauched elder brother or sister scented opportunity. She’d immediately suggested Ayden step in. He had his faults, but he’d spent time among humans too.

“And you’ll simply live alone in Waverly Green, glamoured for the rest of eternity? You know that doesn’t suit you anymore. You have friends here, family. Me.”

He’d struck the one chord that always hurt. Camilla did not want to be alone.

“We could mate for life,” Wolf suggested. “I would help you acclimate again. You might not love me now, but love grows.”

“Except for that bothersome little fact that I do not wish to stay here.”

“Faerie?” he pressed. “Or the Underworld as a whole?”

Wolf was fishing. He wanted to ask what she thought about Prince Envy.

And that was much too complicated. Part of her wanted to pen him letters of apology, part of her wanted to paint his head onto an oversized donkey, pointing out that he was obviously an ass. But the longer they went without speaking, the more unsure she became.

Maybe it was for the best, giving up. Letting go.

Then Camilla wouldn’t have to worry about him leaving again one day.

A knock sounded at the door, followed by a mewl.

Camilla rushed past Wolf to open the door, smiling for only the second time since she’d set foot in this court.

“Kitty! Bunny.”

Her friend swept in, setting her cat on the floor, and hugged Camilla close. Then she stepped back to look Wolf over.

“Did I interrupt?” Lady Katherine asked, ever hopeful.

Camilla snorted. “Hardly.”

“That tone is most unappreciated, ladies.” Wolf shook his head. “Has no one in the mortal realm heard my legends recently? I might have to rectify that.”

“How are you here?” Camilla asked, ignoring Wolf. “You didn’t have to leave Waverly Green, Kitty.”

“I did, actually. When your glamour broke, mine did too. Most inconveniently.” Lady Katherine pulled her hair back, revealing her elongated ears. “It took some time for me to explain things to William, but he’s coping surprisingly well. You’re all right?”

Camilla lifted a shoulder, then dropped it.

Kitty had originally been tasked with asking Camilla to return to the Wild Court, a decade before, when Prim Róis had finally left her side. Then, when Camilla refused, Lennox had commanded Kitty to stay, to keep an eye on Camilla.

Little had he expected the two to unite as friends. And after her first refusal to return to the Wild Court, their true identities were a secret they never discussed.

Now, with her standing here, in all her Unseelie glory, Camilla knew Kitty had never forgotten her home.

“Bunny threw a fit that rivaled William’s. Think she’s tired of her glamour too.”

Camilla smiled. The cat had transformed into her true being. A lovely little gray-and-white Fae lioness.

“You could have talked to me,” Kitty said, her voice unusually soft. “About everything. We were close, weren’t we?”

Camilla expelled a breath, nodding.

“Of course.”

She wasn’t sure how to say it. Part of her had worried that Kitty preferred being blissfully unaware, freed of Unseelie chaos. And the other part had worried that Kitty remained a tool for her parents. Someone sent to spy and report back. Lennox and his games were never-ending.

Instead of admitting that, Camilla said, “Vexley’s a vampire now.”

Kitty looked at her for a solid minute before bursting into laughter.

“How?”

Camilla told her. “I… I was the one to kill him, though.”

“You beheaded him and set him on fire?” Kitty’s eyes were round, a mixture of impressed and horrified.

“Not exactly. But I did behead him.”

Wolf looked pained. “Unless you set him on fire and watched his ashes scatter, he likely isn’t dead. A vampire isn’t easy to kill.”

Camilla felt oddly relieved. Vexley was a nightmare, but it was one less death on her hands.

Kitty remained far too amused. “Fitting. A mortal driven by his thirst for lust is now driven by his thirst.”

“When he was a human at the vampire court he was… still Vexley.”

Kitty laughed, delighted. “Please tell me he bedded a succubus.”

“He held her tail and…” Camilla shuddered. “I’m sure you can imagine. Blood lust at the vampire court is a sight.”

“Speaking of lust,” Kitty said, far too casually, “I heard the most interesting rumor. It seems your Lord Synton is the Prince of Envy. Please”—she grabbed Camilla’s hands—“please tell me you had wild demon sex with him.”

Camilla’s thoughts went immediately to the throne room.

“You did!” Kitty jumped. “Oh! I think I’m experiencing envy at the thought. How was it? I’ve heard his cock is huge. Is it?”

“Please, don’t answer that,” Wolf muttered.

“Oh!” Kitty practically bounced. “Please, please tell me it was as legendary as they say. There are rumors a portrait hangs above his bed, a kind of… visual stimulant. Would you sell your soul for another taste?”

Camilla sank her teeth into her lower lip. The portrait did hang above his bed, but nothing compared to the reality of the demon. She couldn’t very well admit it aloud.

“I—”

“I’m curious too, Camilla, darling,” a low voice drawled from the doorway. “Would you? Sell your soul?”

At the sound of his voice Camilla spun around, a hand pressed to her heart.

Envy stood in the doorway, his enormous glittering wings tucked close to his body.

Blood dripped from the feathers onto the floor.

For a horrifying second, she couldn’t tell if the blood was his.

Envy stepped fully into the room, scanning Wolf, then Kitty. He gave no indication of surprise when he took in Kitty’s true form. He did pause on the lioness, though, and she could have sworn amusement flickered before he banished it.

His attention settled on Camilla. Cold. Merciless.

She glanced again at the blood dripping off his wings. It wasn’t ichor; it was Fae.

“What have you done?” Her voice was barely a whisper.

His gaze remained locked on hers when he said, “I’d like some privacy with the princess.”

Kitty came up to Camilla’s side. “No.”

Envy arched a brow, waiting. His expression said You owe me that much.

Despite the dangerous glint in his eyes, Camilla silently agreed.

“Go,” Camilla said. “It will be fine.”

Kitty’s jaw tightened. She looked to Wolf, who stared Envy down.

“We’ll be close,” he promised, gaze on the prince. It was a warning.

Wolf escorted her friend out, leaving Camilla alone to face the very angry demon prince.