Kingdom of the Cursed

“It’s the place stars fear to enter,” he whispered near my ear, his warm breath a severe contrast against the frosty air. I shuddered. “But never the devil. Darkness is seduced by him. As is fear.”

I’d thought it was romantic; now I saw the truth: it was beautifully dangerous. Much like my current traveling companion.

I gave him a dazzling smile, letting myself imagine how good it would feel when I finally destroyed him. His expression shuttered and he inclined his head—as if reading my every thought and emotion and silently vowed to do the same. In this hatred we were united.

I’d acted out of fear and desperation—two essential ingredients in creating a disaster.

You can desire riches, power, or status. Friendship or vengeance. Desires are more complex wants than mere sins. Sometimes they’re good. Other times they reflect insecurities. This world is influenced by those who rule it. Over time it’s come to toy with us all.”

I wanted to crack his soul open and read him like a book, discovering the deepest secrets and stories of how he came to be.

I wanted him to claim me, almost as much as I wanted him to be mine.

“While your current illusion sounds wildly interesting,” Wrath’s silky voice came from across the small enclosure, “you might want to put your clothes on. The temperature is well below freezing now.”

“Love and hate are both rooted in passion.”

“Have I ever told you your anger is like my own personal aphrodisiac?”

Of course. A mountain obeyed his every wish. Why wouldn’t it?

Not everyone was blessed to look like some deviously handsome deity while traipsing through Hell. His lips twitched. I must have said that last part out loud.

“I hate you.” My words came out slower than they should have. “I hate you in the darkest of ways.”

From somewhere far away, I could have sworn he whispered, “I lied.”

Prince Wrath, one of the Feared and Mighty Seven, General of War, and Master of Avoidance.

General of War, and Master of Avoidance.

“Why is it whenever a man throws a tantrum a woman is blamed for his poor behavior? If Wrath acted like an idiot, he accomplished that all on his own. I don’t see why his temper is so shocking. He is the living embodiment of wrath. I’m sure you’ve seen him angry.”

“Haven. Close to Heaven but not quite as boring.”

“Sneaking up on people is rude. I thought demon princes were supposed to have impeccable manners.”
“We do. Mostly.”

“My personal library is one level down.”
“Let me guess… Hell? Blacks, leathers, gold?”
“Lots of fire and chains and torture devices, too.”

“Naming your libraries Haven and Hell is dramatic enough to suit you, I suppose.”

“No.” My voice was whisper soft, trembling. I hated it. “Yes.” His voice was hard, edged. I hated it, too.

You keep alluding to the fact I had a choice, but I didn’t.”
“You always have choice.”

Know thy enemy… and his reading habits.

“You look like a beautiful cataclysm.”

“It’s every woman’s dream to be likened to a natural disaster.”
“A violent upheaval. I’d say it suits.”

“Then tell me you hate me, that I am your worst enemy. Better yet, tell me you don’t want to kiss me.”

Before I dug myself a deeper grave, his mouth slanted over mine, stealing my breath and any further denial as easily as he’d stolen my soul.

“You may destroy me yet.”

Wrath leaned in, his lips almost brushing the shell of my ear and I felt him smile. His voice was low enough so only I heard him. “One word and I’ll send them away.”

I placed my lips to his ear. “Are you sensing the knife I’m now considering stabbing you with, your highness?”
“If this is an attempt to change the topic, you’re failing miserably.”

“Astra inclinant, sed non obligant.” I bit my lower lip, trying to translate it. “The stars…” He rotated until we faced each other again, his eyes glowing softly in the dark. “The stars incline us; they do not bind us.”

dark. “The stars incline us; they do not bind us.”

“Fate may deal its hand, try encouraging our path or intervene, but we are ultimately free to choose our own destiny. Never doubt that.”

“Choice is granted to all. But for some it comes with a price.”

Acta non verba. I had no trouble understanding that one. Actions, not words.

Ours would be an unholy union of fury.

“Trust me.”
“Says the prince of lies.”

“All hail the queen of changing topics.”

“I am not a hero, Emilia. Nor am I a villain. You ought to know that by now.”

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

“There is little I need. But much I want.”

“May we always feast after spilling the blood of our enemies.”

He didn’t elaborate, and I was not in the mood to play the game of ask Wrath a thousand questions and receive frustrating answers.

“What I may be searching for is none of your concern.”
“Everything in this castle is my concern. You, especially.”

“After our last ‘lesson,’ I was under the impression you wished for me to take matters into my own hands from now on. Quite literally.”

“How do I look?” Wrath’s gaze darkened into a shadow of sinful promise. “I suspect you know.”
“Indulge me, then.”
“Trouble incarnate.”

The hell horse nipped again, more insistently. “Gentle, Death.”
“Goddess give me strength.” I eyed the three other beasts. “Famine, Pestilence, and War, I presume.”

“If they are stupid enough to ignite your fury, they deserve to feel the burn.”

If I was about to enter into a battle for my life, at least I had Wrath at my side.