Throne of Secrets (Prince of Sin #2)

Forty-Two Adriana

O NCE ALL WAS quiet, I rose and donned a black dress—since that seemed to be the first rule in any good spy novel—then tiptoed into the corridor. After waiting a few beats, I raced toward the royal library. Honestly, it was a blessing that I didn’t run headfirst into a wall or get a neck cramp from craning my head back and forth so often to check that I wasn’t being followed.

I kept to the shadows, praying I could emit an invisible shield if I believed hard enough, and silently whooped with victory when I made it to my destination without running into a soul.

Namely, Val and her cursed ability to track me down.

I shut the door behind me and scanned the room.

In typical House Gluttony fashion, it was a feast created for any book lover to indulge in.

I took a moment to soak it in, hating that I loved it so much.

Dark, gleaming shelves were filled with leatherbound books, the spines embossed and gilded. The floors were layered with woven rugs, and an excessive number of overstuffed chairs and couches were grouped around a grand fireplace.

Except for one low-burning lantern in the back that I prayed was left on by mistake, the cathedral-sized chamber was dark and empty. It was the perfect place to curl up with a mystery novel and lose yourself in pages that crunched like dry leaves each time you flipped them.

Alas, the only mystery I needed to solve was the one surrounding the dragons.

I listened for a few beats but didn’t hear any sounds—no turning pages, no soft inhales or exhales or creaks of someone moving around in a chair—and hoped that meant I was correct: whoever had been here simply left the lantern on, the careless fiend.

That settled, I peered up at the plaques located at the end of each shelf, thankful for the golden gleam that allowed me to make out the words etched onto them.

The library was organized into sections that were easy enough to find, so I made my way to witches, spell work, and potions. My victory was short-lived when I rounded the corner and stumbled upon the prince bent over a book… reading, of all unnatural things.

Everything in me seized at the sight of him. He was the one cursed being in the realm I’d hoped to never encounter again. I swore he knew it and put himself in my path just to irk me.

I glared at his broad shoulders, his ruffled hair, the chestnut strands gilded from the lamp’s warm glow. Instead of a lover running their hands through his hair making the locks unruly, it looked like he’d raked his hands through it.

A sign he was worried or that the book he was reading was giving his tiny brain a cramp?

One could never tell when it came to him.

Since his back remained turned to me, I peered at him for a few more beats. I was hoping to sort out what he was doing, but my attention drifted over the suit jacket he wore, the material straining against the muscles I knew were hidden beneath.

He had no right to look the way he did—like the universe’s most tempting mistake. He was all harsh lines and hard angles except for his cursed mouth; that was all curved, soft wickedness. And he certainly knew how to use it.

I burned just thinking of our most recent night together and immediately wished a window would blow open and let in an arctic blast of air.

He was entirely off-limits, even without his competition raging on.

A flash of him kissing Vanity sent ice rushing through my veins. Ruthless Rake. And there I was, staring like all of his doe-eyed acolytes.

I made to quietly step back when Axton suddenly glanced over his shoulder, his attention sliding along my frame as if he’d known all along that I’d been standing behind him.

His eyes darkened as he drank me in, and for some reason, I held my breath. I wasn’t sure if I craved an apology, or some sign he knew he’d hurt me earlier. I hesitated from retreating, even knowing it was the safest move for my heart and sanity. Maybe he would surprise me.

“You have no idea how tempted I am to cuff you to my bed, Miss Saint Lucent.”

And just like that I returned to my senses. “Are you wholly incapable of uttering a sentence that isn’t rakish?”

His smile was a quick flash of teeth. “Thinking filthy thoughts again?”

“I’m not the one dreaming of tying you to my bedposts.”

“Truly a shame. You might have some fun living out your darkest fantasies. I’m sure I’d look rather dashing in your bed.” He sighed when I didn’t take the bait. “I want you where I can see you. It’s either my room or the dungeon. My room would be far more convenient and less drafty.”

At that I smiled sweetly. “Will I be sharing a suite with the crimson-eyed creature, or will I have my own accommodations there? Unless of course that’s what injured your back. Then I’d like my own dark, dank cell.”

He stilled for a moment, his body tense. In the next moment, he was relaxed again, making me question what I’d seen.

“How do you know I’m injured?”

“How anyone else didn’t notice is the true mystery. I’ve seen you kiss plenty of people and you never once winced.”

“Perhaps I should send you into the dungeon,” he muttered.

I made my way over to the little table he was sitting at, attempting to see what he’d been reading. It hadn’t escaped my notice that he was in the same section I’d sought out too.

Maybe he was searching for hexed objects and all my theories were correct.

The rake closed the book and leaned an elbow across it, hiding the title, the perfect image of casual interference. He grinned, knowing I knew exactly what he’d done just as he’d figured out what I’d been up to. Curse him. We were two opponents circling each other again.

I dropped into the chair beside the prince, earning a look of surprise.

“What? Am I not permitted to sit with your spectacular royal self?”

“You and I both know you’re scheming.”

“And we both know you love thwarting my efforts, so we’re evenly matched.” He raised his brows and I quickly added, “In our attempts to outwit the other, obviously. We’d never suit otherwise. Not that I think about you in that capacity. Ever.”

Internally I strangled myself.

Axton scanned my face, and an unusual seriousness entered his expression. “Why do you hate me so much?”

No one could ever accuse him of not being direct.

“I’d really rather not discuss it.”

“I’m afraid that excuse won’t work again.”

He stared at me so intently I started to wonder if he was somehow using magic to see through my emotional walls. Or maybe, upon further inspection, there was a different reason he wanted to know. But why?

“The other night you mentioned the All-Sinners Ball,” he said. “It seems we have very different recollections of that event.”

“The past is not something I wish to revisit.”

He raked a hand through his hair, his jaw straining.

“I’m afraid I must insist.” His tone indicated I was correct; this was about more than our differences in memory. “I’ll start. When you walked into the ball that night, I remember exactly where I was. At the bottom of the stairs, ready to ask someone to sneak off to the garden.”

“How romantic.”

“Then you paused at the doorway, and I lost all sense of time and place. I had to know you.”

My gaze sharpened on him. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because.” He held my stare. “I thought you were the most devastating thing I’d ever seen. A comet speeding directly at me. And I was so lost to your splendor, I didn’t care if you wiped me clean out of the realm, so long as I got a chance to admire you, even from a distance.”

My stupid heart fluttered despite my brain screaming for caution. Axton was known to charm all he met. I knew that more than anyone. This was likely another scheme.

“I don’t understand what you’re getting at or why it matters.”

“You wore the most beautiful blue and silver gown. I remember vividly the way the candlelight glinted off the jewelry you had on—some matching earring and bracelet set. Nothing was overdone or extravagant, nothing to excess. Yet I wanted to indulge in everything you had to offer. Conversation. Stolen kisses. Simply listening to you speak as we danced.”

My eyes burned. He couldn’t lie outright, so he must believe his story, but none of that actually happened that night. Except for the fact that I’d been wearing an earring and bracelet set. It was the night I’d lost my mother’s bracelet, and that stung more than Axton’s cold dismissal.

“Axton, please—”

“I watched from the sidelines for a long while, trying to hunt down clues to what you liked. I wanted to find common interests, impress you. You were surrounded by suitors, and I was plotting clever ways to steal you away to the garden. When I approached you, all my plans vanished. The look you gave me—it was like I’d drowned your pet.”

His voice turned soft, quiet. “You hated me then, before I even had a chance to win you over. So yes, Adriana, I think we need to discuss that night. Because in my version, I wanted a much different outcome for our story. I wanted to give you my royal mark.”

A royal mark was no small thing.

Princes rarely gave them to anyone, they were a show of high honor, of rank. They were similar to tattoos but very small and easily hidden.

A royal mark allowed the prince to sense the whereabouts of the one he’d marked, but it also allowed the one marked to summon the prince at will.

Other rumors suggested it also granted someone immortality after a small ceremony or spell was cast. That part was even more rare, so I wasn’t sure how true it was.

How could Axton honestly believe that was how strongly he felt when his recollection was entirely false?

“I—” Frustration built in my chest as I inched closer, as if proximity to the prince would spark a memory. “That’s not how that night went. You and I—you and I did go to the garden. You told me everything a young, hopeful romantic could ever want to hear. Made all sorts of declarations and promises. You charmed me so thoroughly we made love right there and everything was incredible. Up until you left me directly after to sleep with the viscountess. The same one who’d been calling me a social climber all evening and attempted to have me tossed from the ball for being common scum. I was mortified. You discarded me like I meant nothing. ”

I exhaled, my breath hitching slightly. “It was the first time I realized how much you used your charm to get whatever you desired. Then once you had your fill of whatever you’d been after, you moved on to the next thing you hungered for.”

His gaze narrowed on me. He leaned on his elbows, his face perilously close to mine as he searched my face. “That never happened. Yet I don’t detect a lie.”

I had no answer to the question I saw burning through him. His frustration matched mine in equal measure. How could we both have such different memories of that night?

Either the prince had been in some wildly delusional stupor, or there might be something worth investigating. Memories didn’t just alter so drastically.

My emotions churned like a stormy sea as my mind spun with theories. Magic? Stupidity? Or good old-fashioned intoxication? Could someone be responsible for our animosity?

It seemed too far-fetched, but stranger things were known to happen in the Underworld.

A lock of my hair fell forward, but before I could tuck it back, the prince reached over and smoothed it away. His hand lingered, angling my face up gently.

I should knock his hand away. Lean back. Anything to avoid his touch.

We shouldn’t be here together. I should consider my mission to unearth clues about hexed objects a failure and try again tomorrow. Far from his too-charming ways. I’d gone a decade without succumbing to his seduction and I blamed our oath for blurring those lines now, even knowing that was false and it had nothing to do with my emotions.

His thumb stroked along my jaw, the motion soothing and so very tempting.

“I have another confession to make,” he whispered. “During the contest, I convinced myself Vanity was you. Once I realized my mistake, I wanted to apologize. Right there. In front of everyone.”

My heart thundered. “You didn’t, though.”

Axton tipped my chin up, watching me as he slowly brought his mouth to mine. “Forgive me, Adriana.”

His lips hovered a breath away while he waited for my reaction. When I didn’t pull back or demand he unhand me, he closed the distance, taking my mouth in a sweet, chaste kiss.

It was filled with yearning, apology… a wordless plea for forgiveness.

I could break away from the embrace, refuse him and his advances. There was no pretending this was my stranger now; I knew exactly who was kissing me and I didn’t hate it.

Maybe it was his confession about what happened that night ten years ago, or the complicated emotions it stirred, but I kissed him back as sweetly, my fingertips tentatively sliding up his arms, grounding me in the moment.

This tenderness was so at odds with the male who’d wanted to bend me over his knee, promising a sinful punishment if I’d consented to it. The male who’d also sunk to his knees in a rooftop garden and made me soar with his wicked mouth.

This version of Axton was truly dangerous.

He was the sort of prince people dreamed of. Dark, charming, completely infatuated.

Someone worth falling for.

He kissed me a little harder, like he couldn’t stop himself from fully tasting my lips.

For a moment, I forgot who we truly were to each other. The years of back-and-forth, the animosity. There was only the here and now. And this kiss that was bringing all my walls crashing down. His lips parted on a groan, his tongue sweeping in to claim mine.

He tasted like my favorite mistake.

The next thing I knew, he was pulling me onto his lap, and I was happy to give in to this craving, even knowing it was forbidden.

My hands framed his face, our kiss turning from sweet romance to ravenous desire, our need to be close, to feel everything, taking over.

He leaned back, and the pain I’d seen earlier in the day was the last emotion playing across his features as he ran his hands up and down my body.

“You’re going to be the end of me.” He dragged me along his length, and I forgot how to breathe. “And I fucking welcome my demise.”

“Gabriel, wait.” His name came out much too softly. “Your back.”

He kissed me hard, his lips owning mine over and over.

Here was the male from the Seven Sins who craved dominance in his pleasure.

The one who’d bring me to the brink and yank me back, sweetly torturing me until I’d crawl to him, begging.

I gasped and drew back; his hooded gaze was filled with the same need I felt as he watched me fall apart right there.

I didn’t care about his competition, or our history, or any other complication.

I wanted him. Right this instant.

His eyes darkened, his powers alerting him to my every emotion.

He swore and hoisted me up, deftly undoing the button of his trousers.

“Are you sure?” he asked, hips grinding into me.

Maybe I wasn’t the only one who’d get on my knees and beg. His intense gaze locked onto mine, his emotions as heightened. He would stop if I said no.

No matter how much he’d want to take me right there, he’d walk away the instant I said to. Between that and his very different recollection of the All-Sinners Ball, it made my decision easy. Perhaps it was time to try again.

“I’m sure. Are you?”

“Is there any doubt?” He dragged me over his arousal again.

“Your injury…”

“I’ve never felt better.”

“Liar.” I captured his mouth with mine, lifting myself up as he fumbled with my skirts.

Before I could process what happened, we were somehow across the room and I was pinned against the shelves in a dark alcove partially hidden by a potted fern, and the prince’s entire front was pressed to my back.

“What are you—”

He gently placed a hand over my mouth, then brought his lips to my ear. “When I take my hand away, remain as silent as you can. Someone just entered the library.”

He didn’t have to say anything else; fear gripped me tightly. We were close to being caught. In a very precarious position. He had me up against a wall, very clearly aroused.

If anyone found us together… it would be disastrous. For him, for me, for my sister—I could only imagine Sophie’s response if she discovered our indiscretion.

A strained moment passed before I heard what his heightened senses had picked up.

Voices carried over, hushed whispers that made my pulse race harder.

I went as still as possible, praying for whoever had entered the chamber to get their books and leave. Another moment passed by in the span of what felt like a decade.

Then I heard the unmistakable sound of fabric rustling. A sound that was not made from someone coming to fetch a book to read in bed. Soft giggles followed.

Another couple had decided to use this room for a secret midnight tryst.

I closed my eyes, trying to force the sound of kissing from my mind as the prince’s arousal pressed into my backside. Axton moved closer as if to shield me with his mass, and I listened helplessly as the lovers moved to the aisle next to ours.

“Wait, what if someone walks in?” one of them asked.

I froze.

It was nothing more than a low whisper, but I recognized that voice immediately.

I glanced over my shoulder at the prince. He was watching me closely and hadn’t reacted at all. Which meant he didn’t know who the secret lovers were. Or he was too preoccupied at the moment to really pay close attention.

I couldn’t hear who the second person was—they were speaking much too low—but I knew with certainty who one was. My sister.

I thought she’d had a crush on Prince Gluttony and hadn’t known her to show interest in anyone prior to being chosen for the competition.

Questions swirled in a maelstrom as I tried to seize one to focus on.

Who was her lover? When had it begun?

Was it just a passing romance or something more serious?

And why in all the realms hadn’t she confided in me?

That, I suspected, was due to the fact that I’d been absent a lot. Either working or hunting leads in the shadow network. We hadn’t been spending a lot of time together.

Still, it hurt to know she had a whole secret life I wasn’t a part of.

I would have to choke all the questions down and let them go for one very good reason. There was no way for me to confront Eden about her midnight rendezvous without giving up my own secret in return. Axton and I had already had our moment in the scandal sheets, and I refused to end up there with him again, intriguing midnight interludes or not.

Axton leaned forward, his fingers skimming the shelf above my head. For one intense moment, I thought he was going to finish what we’d started, despite an audience.

A moment later, a latch clicked. My pulse pounded furiously at the small sound, but no one seemed to notice. They’d resumed their kissing and were completely unaware that anyone else was in the chamber.

Axton jerked his chin toward the hidden escape, indicating I should step through and leave the library. I wasn’t sure if he planned to follow me or if he was going to confront the lovers. I couldn’t let him find out Eden was involved.

To keep the prince from focusing on who the other couple was, I tugged him through the chamber with me and prayed I wouldn’t get swept up in his charms once again.