Throne of Secrets (Prince of Sin #2)

Nineteen Prince Gluttony

Y OUR H IGHNESS ! O VER here, Anderson Anders, from the Sinners’ Rumor, we spoke a few days back. Do you have time for a few questions following the grand announcement?”

I flashed my most dashing smile, careful to not bare my teeth as the reporter stepped into my path, trying to block my retreat. Pompous Anders truly grated on my nerves. It took every ounce of diplomacy I could muster to not check him with my bulkier mass.

“No questions today, Anders. Please direct all inquiries to the official royal reporter.”

I waved to the remaining crowd who lingered in my circular drive, then headed to the stables to saddle up my hell horse. The stable hands nodded as I entered Magnus’s stall and prepared him for the journey. The enormous stallion loved riding out to Merciless Reach, feeling the icy wind claw at us as he pushed himself to speeds that should break every law of nature.

Hell horses weren’t like mortal horses—they were faster, more powerful. He’d race the sixty miles in just under an hour and still not be spent for the day.

It was often a punishing and invigorating ride. Exactly what I needed after the spectacle of this afternoon. I mounted him and within seconds we were tearing across the grounds of the castle, heading straight for Merciless Reach.

I closed my eyes, allowing the joy of the ride to take over. Memories of more innocent times rushed into my mind. Emilia hadn’t taken her horse Tanzie riding with us in quite some time; it seemed we’d all gone from one crisis to the next over the last several years.

I hoped to rectify that soon.

Magnus clattered over the gravel road leading up the mountain and out of town, his mane whipping about as he unleashed his full power and drew me back into the here and now.

What felt like mere moments later and not an hour, we were drawing up to the wall dividing the uninhabited land to the north from the Seven Circles below.

A shadow passed above, and Magnus stamped his hooves. We were being hunted.

I kicked my heels into his sides, and we shot off again, racing to the stables inside the fortress. Another shadow followed us, the fierce cry of dragons piercing the otherwise quiet of the day. Magnus bolted through the gates, racing the dragons and getting us under shelter as the first blast of dragon fire came from above.

Hunters who’d been standing near the stables scattered, darting in zigzags to the safety of the warded walls of Merciless Reach. I didn’t follow them.

I tossed the reins to a stable hand, dismounted, and took to the skies, immediately locating the two dragons. Their eyes glowed crimson, the color frightening against the backdrop of snow and ice. Once they spotted me, they spewed more unholy flames, narrowly missing me as they gave chase.

Before I’d gone a mile Wrath joined me, called in no doubt by Felix at the first sign of attack, and the two of us raced toward the far north, using every advantage we could to lure the dragons away from the outpost and what lay beyond.

The ice dragons’ shrill cries echoed behind us, confirming we’d snared their attention and they’d given chase. My pulse thrashed through my veins, my adrenaline pumping hard.

That had been too damned close. My hunters knew what they signed up for when they joined the guild, but no one deserved to live under fear of constant attack.

I flew as fast as I could toward the mountains, noting the moment Wrath peeled away and sped toward the nearest dragon. His wings, once emitting a bright white fire, were now jet-black and menacing as he gave chase.

For once we looked like exactly what we were: avenging angels, fallen from grace to battle the worst creatures in the realms. Together we provided a tantalizing target for the dragons; they couldn’t resist the lure of taking down other apex predators. Any hunters that might have snared their attention at first glance were soon forgotten.

Wrath angled back toward me, his expression thunderous. We’d come dangerously close to disaster. Merciless Reach was warded, but if the dragons slipped by us, the houses and towns beyond were not. I’d need to investigate devising some way to magically protect my demons. One that wasn’t a constant low-level drain on my power.

A familiar mountain range rose like an angry god before us, its jagged slopes reaching up to curse the sky.

My brother glanced my way, waiting. I gave him the signal we’d used countless times. As the mountain pass came into view, he veered to the left while I aimed to the right.

We’d split the dragons and wait for them to give up and fly back to wherever they’d been hiding and follow them there. The bellowing cry behind us indicated they’d hesitated—giving us the advantage, which was exactly what we’d wanted. That one moment allowed us to pull ahead, diving below the tree line, camouflaging ourselves.

I plummeted to the ground, tucking my wings in tight, forcing my chest to still. The dragons flew past in a blur of iridescent scales and white wings, aiming for the highest mountains to the north. I took to the sky again, intent on stalking them, and cursed.

They were gone.

I flew in the direction they’d taken, scouring the terrain below. It was an exercise in frustration. Caves and evergreens blocked my view. I spent another hour combing the area, listening for any slight bleat or snarl, any flutter of wings.

Nothing. It was as if the dragons simply ceased to exist.

I circled the mountain one last time, then headed back to Merciless Reach.

Wrath was already there, his expression as dark as I imagined mine was. I jerked my chin, indicating he should walk with me. I didn’t want any of the hunters to overhear us.

“Did you manage to get a tracker on any of them?” I asked.

Wrath shook his head. “They anticipated the move and blocked it.”

I pushed my hands through my hair, swearing. “They’ve got to be cursed. I can’t think of one other thing that would cause them to oscillate so much. Sometimes they seem to know exactly what they’re doing, other times they don’t.”

Wrath stared off into the distance, his gaze settling on the bruised mountaintops smudging the horizon. Snow started coming down in heavy clumps. Soon it would be a whiteout. The perfect conditions for the ice dragons to blend in.

“The witches have been quiet since the last raid,” he said, breaking into my thoughts.

“I know. I haven’t heard any news about them from my spies in months.”

Wrath and Emilia had run into trouble with them a few months back at House Greed, where the witches had staged an attack, the first in a long time. And while the demons had won the skirmish, the witches were never silent for long.

“The dragons could be a distraction,” I said. “Maybe they want us focused here while they infiltrate House Pride.”

Wrath folded his arms across his chest. “Did he ever inquire about the summit?”

“No. You think he’s planning something of his own?”

Wrath shrugged. “He hasn’t been growing slumber root to relax in the garden after work.”

An idea formed at that.

Slumber root was a flower that was powerful enough to knock a demon prince out cold, so it should act the same on a dragon. Perhaps it was time to get some plants for my healers to work with. Rumors had been circulating for some time that Pride had grown an entire field of slumber root, making us all wonder what he was really up to.

Out of all of us, he might be the one who wore the most masks in public. No one ever truly knew what motivated Pride, aside from searching for his missing consort. Even his reasons for that were constantly up for debate. Did he truly miss her? Was it all a hit to his cursed pride? Or was there another reason he was so desperate to track her down?

If he’d been anticipating a war with witches for some time, it explained why he wasn’t concerned about the dragons. He’d have expected some form of retribution or subtle attack. If that proved true, it would have been nice of him to let us all know.

I watched the mountains fade from view as the storm blew in harder.

It felt like our entire realm was under attack. Malice Isle had just deposed the old vampire prince, forcing Blade to hunt for a bride to settle the unrest.

The Unseelie court to the west was scrambling under its own new leadership.

And if the witches were plotting something by way of the ice dragons here in the north, we’d be facing possible war from almost each direction.

I exhaled. “Let’s hope we’re wrong about the dragons’ being cursed.”

Wrath met my gaze, his expression as guarded as mine. “We need to talk to Pride. Do you want to send a request from your House or should I?”

A slow, wicked smile curved my mouth.

“Neither. I say we show up there now. You game?”

My brother’s grin matched mine. Entering a different circle unannounced could be an act of war. A fact that made Wrath’s sin tremble with anticipation. Literally. The ground rumbled hard enough to cause a sheet of snow to careen off the wall.

I gave him a flat look.

“Keep it together, heathen.”

With a dark twinkle in his eye, he winked. In a blast of smoke and shadow, he transported himself to House Pride.

“Thanks for the warning,” I muttered, preparing to summon my magic next. “Gods-damned prick.”

I’d just pulled in my power when Wrath came blasting back.

He smashed into the fortress wall, putting a slight dent in the stone. He was furious as he stood, brushing himself off. I didn’t think it had anything to do with the disheveled state of his clothing, though Wrath was particular about it.

I swore.

“He warded his circle?” I guessed.

Wrath nodded. “And he better have a damned good reason for it.”

My brother stormed off, likely preparing to magic himself back to House Wrath. I had little doubt he’d be sending a missive to our secretive brother, and it wouldn’t be a thinly veiled threat. When Wrath’s sin ignited, we could only hunker down and prepare for war.

It was the last thing I needed to worry about. It was troubling enough that Pride had closed down his circle—and peculiar timing. I wanted to know exactly what he was doing, and if it was in any way impacting my circle, Wrath wouldn’t be the only one he’d need to shield himself from. The might of House Gluttony would come for him.

I made my way back to the fortress and climbed the stairs to the command room. “Val?”

My second glanced up from where she was studying a map. “Yes, Your Highness?”

“Get Pride here immediately. Tell him House Gluttony will declare war if he doesn’t come now and bring slumber root.”

“That will definitely get his attention.”

“That is the idea.”

Far better for me to piss him off than have Wrath storm House Pride. There were only so many fires I could maintain at once.

Val bowed and left to send the missive.

I strode out onto the parapet, needing to breathe in the cold air to settle myself. Pride wouldn’t take long, especially if he wanted to keep his secrets to his court. Less than thirty minutes later, Felix cleared his throat and stepped onto the roof. “Prince Pride is here.”

He’d no sooner made the announcement than my brother’s form filled the threshold.

My attention swept over him in assessment.

Outwardly he looked the same as always.

Not a hair out of place or piece of lint on his suit. His cravat was perfectly knotted at his throat and even the scar that ran through his lip seemed to add to his regal edge. There was a tenseness around his mouth that belied his casual demeanor.

Pride’s silver eyes gleamed like daggers as he watched my hunter hurry back inside. The storm wasn’t the only cause of the frigid temperature drop.

When we were alone, he flung a bag of slumber root at me.

“A war, Gabe? Over a gods-damned weed?”

I was in no mood to deal with his cavalier attitude tonight.

I shoved him against the wall, satisfied by the clack of his teeth from the sudden impact.

“If it’s only a weed, why, then, are House Pride’s grounds covered with them? I’ve heard rumors your circle is starting to look less than pristine. That’s so very strange for a sin like yours, where appearances are everything.”

He narrowed his gaze but didn’t respond to the strike at his power.

“You seem to have missed the part about ice dragons attacking, Luc. Remember the summit you couldn’t bother to attend? Try taking your head out of your ass and care about something outside of your immediate desires.”

A muscle in his jaw flickered but he still remained stubbornly silent. I knew exactly why he wasn’t saying a word—he couldn’t lie and wasn’t about to tell me the truth.

I grabbed the slumber root. “Felix?”

Felix returned to the parapet. “Yes, Your Highness?”

“Have Helga turn the slumber root into a liquid we can shoot into the dragons. Or a paste to cover needles—whatever she can come up with the fastest. We need a way to quickly administer it if they attack.”

“Straightaway, Your Highness.”

Felix took the little satchel and did as I’d commanded, leaving me and my brother alone once again.

Pride raised his brows. “Is the threat really that serious?”

“A hunter was killed. What do you think?”

He lifted a shoulder, adopting an attitude of nonchalance. “An unfortunate event to be sure. Do you think they’ll attack your House of Sin soon?”

“If we’re sharing House secrets, why don’t you go first? You can start with the field of slumber root or whatever plot you’re hatching for your consort.”

My brother’s hand balled into a fist before he quickly released it.

We would get nowhere if we kept needling each other. It was time to set any animosity aside and see what my brother might know about witches and their possible involvement.

“I’m looking for anything that might cause the dragons to go mad,” I said. I didn’t miss the way he flinched. The bastard was definitely keeping secrets. “You wouldn’t happen to know a spell or curse like that?”

“Why would I?”

“Your mother-in-law is currently in your dungeon, is she not?” I asked. “Perhaps she’s mentioned something along those lines or boasted about using a spell on a Prince of Sin.”

“Sursea hasn’t spoken a word in nearly a month.” He looked out at the courtyard below. Hunters hurriedly took shelter, their focus darting to the sky. “You don’t need a witch to break a curse.”

“I’m aware. But I do need to know what spell was used or who the target is.”

“Then I’ll leave you to it.”

“Not so fast.” I was before him in the next breath, my dagger pressed to his jugular. “I want to speak with Sursea. Now.”

Pride schooled his features into a mask of forced politeness. “Very well. I grant permission for a five-minute visit. Meet me in my courtyard now.”

I dropped my blade. “After you, then.”

With a mockery of a bow, Pride magicked himself to his circle.

I summoned my own magic and in a crackling blaze of fire and smoke materialized beside my brother right outside his castle.

We weren’t exactly alone.

Pride’s helmet-wearing guards stood in a circle around us, blocking my view of the grounds. His smile was anything but friendly when I raised my brows at our greeting squad of doom.

“Make haste, dear brother. By my count, you’ve got four minutes remaining.”

“You haven’t even taken me to Sursea yet.”

His grin was downright wicked. “I only granted you a five-minute visit. You didn’t specify that they had to be with my mother-in-law exclusively. You have three minutes and forty seconds left at House Pride. I suggest you spend it wisely.”

Fae-like bastard. “Take me to Sursea now.”

Pride and I strode up the gleaming stairs to his castle. The moment we entered his gold-leafed foyer, he immediately turned to the chamber on the right. Guards stood outside the door, bowing as Pride motioned for them to grant us entry.

I was about to stab my brother with my dagger when he pushed the door open, revealing a sight I hadn’t expected to see.

“Sursea.”

I walked into the finely appointed chamber. It was a far cry from the dungeon setting I’d been led to believe she resided in. It looked like a suite straight out of the mortals’ Versailles.

Silk-covered walls, gilded molding, frescoes and paintings and sitting areas fit for a king.

Sursea perched on the edge of silk settee, staring down her nose at me. She raised a dark brow but didn’t respond. Pride stepped in and closed the door, pulling a pocket watch from his waistcoat and giving me a mocking smile.

“Time’s ticking, brother.”

I faced the witch. “I need answers.”

Her expression was as placid and unmoving as a still lake. If it wasn’t for the cunning glint in her eyes, I’d think she was in some sort of magically induced stupor state.

“Are you mute?” I asked, moving closer. “Under a spell?”

Pride exhaled. “She’s protesting her captivity.”

I narrowed my eyes on her. “So you can speak; you’re choosing not to?”

She lifted her hand, suddenly finding her nails worthy of all her attention. A slight twist of her mouth indicated she was having fun. She always did love toying with us Princes of Sin.

No matter. I only needed to read her nonverbal responses.

“Did you curse the ice dragons?”

She glanced up sharply, then went back to studying her nails.

“Time’s up.” Pride snapped his pocket watch closed. “Get out.”

“Thank you for your generous hospitality.” I smiled, then turned to Sursea and offered a condescending bow. “And thank you for solving that one mystery for me.”

I turned and left the room, relieved to finally close out one theory. The witches weren’t behind the attacks. Or, if they were, it hadn’t been orchestrated by their leader. Sursea had been surprised and her reaction hadn’t been feigned.

Short though it was, it had been a very successful visit, but now it was time to get to the dungeon and test out the venom. The witches were off the playing board for now, but there was still an ice dragon issue that needed to be resolved.

Hopefully I could get Sil to speak more easily than Sursea.