Throne of Secrets (Prince of Sin, #2)

by Kerri Maniscalco

I slowly pivoted to face the saints-forsaken prince in question, hating that victorious grin curving his lips as my attention swept over him in cool assessment. All six feet whatever inches of him lazily leaned against the doorframe, toned arms crossed in his fine suit, hazel gaze running over me in triumph, his wretched golden-brown hair mussed in a way that suggested he’d just come from someone’s bed. The perfect image of royal debauchery and indulgence.

“If I may speak plainly—” He snorted. “As if you’ve ever held your tongue. Don’t start now, darling.”

Victory had never felt more satisfying. I ought to have quit while I was ahead, but I couldn’t stop myself from twisting the knife a bit deeper. “It sounds as if the true issue is that I’ve struck a nerve, Your Highness. Though I can’t say I’m surprised. The male ego is one of the most fragile things in the universe. One teeny, tiny hit and it shatters like glass. Maybe it’s not my fiction, but the truth you abhor. I doubt anyone tells you how they actually feel. In any aspect relating to your public or… private life.”

I wanted to argue but couldn’t. He was damnably correct. For once. He gave me a cool once-over, his attention passing over my drab woolen dress, falling to my scuffed black boots, then flicking back up, his expression now unreadable. The prince had never sought me out outside of any royal parties I’d attended for work before and clearly wasn’t used to seeing me dress like the commoner I was.

YOU’RE EITHER GOING to have the most intense hate sex in the history of the realm,” the Prince of Lust drawled from the seat across from me, “or—” “She’s going to castrate him,” Prince Envy said, swirling his signature cocktail, a Dark and Sinful, his expression one of mock contemplation as he sipped his blackberries and bourbon. “My coin’s on the castration.” Lust’s charcoal eyes lit with dark amusement. “Especially after today.” My good mood couldn’t be tarnished by my brothers’ jabs.

My elation grew with each memory of Miss Saint Lucent’s abject horror over her new assignment. Despite my brothers’ constant teasing over the years that I’d end up with the hellion, I harbored no secret affection for her. I simply wished to win our private war.

“Gods’ bones.” Envy grabbed his fork. “What kind of magic do they use in that kitchen?” “No magic. Just a northern recipe passed down through the generations,” I said. “Emilia visited a few weeks ago and loved it.” Envy snorted. “Did our sister-in-law persuade Shirlee to give up the recipe?” “Not even close. Shirlee laughed all the way back to the kitchen.” Envy’s grin widened; his fondness for our sister-in-law always broke through the mask of indifference he wore like armor. “I imagine Emilia took that well.” Emilia had. She’d dug into the food and immediately tried to identify the ingredients, wanting to re-create the dish once they’d returned to House Wrath. I’d watched, almost as amused as her husband, but kept silent to enjoy the moment.

“I’m surprised you tore yourself away from Camilla,” I said. “Trouble at home already, brother?” Envy’s expression shuttered. “My fiancée is tending to her gallery in Waverly Green.” Lust’s smile turned wicked. He loved sharing gossip, especially when it needled one of us. Which meant this ought to be good. “He’s pissy because Wolf went with her.” “Ah. Jealousy,” I mocked softly. “So necessary to stoke your sin, but gods’ blood you look ready to put your fist through a wall. Camilla really knows how to work you up.”

“Aren’t you both above listening to gossip?” I asked. “Answer the question, Gabriellis.” Envy’s gaze was as hard as his tone.

“I wish I had the damned Hexed Quill,” I muttered, still glaring at the sheet. “Perhaps I could manifest some relationship advice into being. You wouldn’t happen to know where I could find it, would you?” “Adriana.” Ryleigh pressed closer to my desk until she drew my attention away from my stare-off with my new mortal enemy, the blank page. She’d tried to hunt down the Hexed Quill ten years ago, obsessed with the idea of rewriting an event. Nothing ever came to pass, but my friend certainly loved learning about hexed objects as much as I loved mysteries.

With her nineteenth birthday coming up, Eden was certainly old enough to work now too, but my stepmother had refused to allow her daughter to “toil away the day like a commoner.”

Giving advice on something I painfully lacked knowledge in was forcing me to remember the evening I’d spent years trying to forget. After that emotional disaster, I’d built a wall around my heart brick by brick, never wanting to be vulnerable again.

Aside from Axton, for very personal reasons, I only wished the best for others.

I wasn’t the only demon in our circle with pale blue hair, but it wasn’t as common as the paler blonds, rich browns, plums, and darker blues.

Despite it being Prince Gluttony’s House colors, it was beautiful.

“We’re going for an ice queen approach, which should suit you well.” I bit my tongue, certain I’d been insulted. Ryleigh shot a sympathetic look my way.

Once upon a time, ten years ago, I had taken a risk. I’d stepped out of my comfort zone and put myself out there for the world, allowing hope to be my guiding light and North Star. It ended badly, but I’d survived. Almost entirely intact, if the invisible scar I bore across my heart wasn’t counted as collateral damage.

The cobalt parchment was crisp, the ink silver. It was from my House of Sin. Wolves are prowling in circles of darkness. I folded the message back up. It was code.

I moved as silently as a shadow as I stalked my brothers, mindful of each cobblestone I stepped on.

My prey meandered down the block, unaware of my presence. For all their combined cunning, Lust and Envy were rather easy to track as they made their way through the winding streets of the night district.

I scanned their wool cloaks, impressed they’d attempted to disguise themselves at all. Of course, the gleaming polish of their fine boots ruined their attempt to mask their wealth. Lust’s lack of focus I wasn’t surprised by; he was always more interested in finding pleasure or toying with it, but I expected better from Envy, master of detail.

I could use my wings but didn’t want to risk anyone seeing me, thus alerting my brothers that I was prowling around the area.

It would be a good night for my circle. Except for the two princes who didn’t belong here.

They needed a reminder that I was the best hunter of us all, and there wasn’t anywhere in my circle they could go where I wouldn’t find them. Especially not to my very own private club of sin.

I seriously reconsidered my decision to attend this den of iniquity for my article. Surely, even with sin and vice on the menu, manners and flirtation were not obscene requests, along with wanting a lover who wasn’t already spoken for.

“I’m no highborn lady, though.” “Perhaps not in title. But tonight, you’re mine.”

“I—” I froze at movement behind him. We hadn’t been alone. “By all means,” the new stranger drawled. “Don’t stop on my account. Things were getting good.” My companion stiffened, then glanced over his shoulder, cursing. “You were supposed to send a note when you were done. Give us a bloody minute.” The other male laughed softly but retreated down the stairs.

“I apologize for my companion.” He motioned toward the spot where the other male had been. I would swear he was stalling, unwilling to part just yet. “He was raised by wolves.”

It had been years since I’d actually wanted someone in my bed. Even with Envy’s dagger gouging my flesh, and the threat of a spy coming upon our little trio, I couldn’t stop my mind from flashing to the heated encounter. That kiss… It awakened something in me, something long dormant.

We Princes of Hell weren’t known for our restraint. Envy stopped before me, his chest nearly brushing mine. I smiled at him; there were no witnesses to worry about now. I held his stare, the tension growing palpable. I could have my dagger lodged in his chest in seconds. My hand grazed the hilt. Diplomacy wasn’t my strong suit and the thrill of the attack made my blood sing with my power.

future. Most especially the reporter who wants nothing more than to destroy me for some saints-forsaken reason.” “I’m sure it has nothing to do with what happened at that ball,” Envy said. My brows drew together. “Which ball?” “The All-Sinners Ball. From what I remember, things went poorly between you two after that.”

“You’re mistaken,” I said. “There has never been any warmth between us, before or after that event.” “I left early, but Lust attended.” Envy turned to our other brother, his gaze calculating. “What do you remember?” “About the All-Sinners Ball?” Lust lifted a shoulder. “Not much. I do remember the spectacle of the viscount finding him with the viscountess, though.” Envy was silent for a moment. “Miss Saint Lucent—” “We could argue the point all night.” I cut him off. “That was a decade ago and no longer matters. End of discussion.”

“Might as well send her in, Jarvis. Let’s get this over with.” My butler inclined his head, then disappeared to fetch my esteemed guest.

Which sent a thrill through me akin to the thrill I felt when hunting dragons. No one ever mentally sparred with me like the hellcat standing before me.

Such a smart mouth. My attention fell to her cursed lips, lingering a moment too long. Lust’s taunt from the night before came back, unbidden. Along with the memory of my masked beauty from the Seven Sins. A prickle of awareness hit me.

I needed an ice bath and a mental examination. Immediately.

“You speak as if this deal has been finalized.” Her tone mixed with her expression indicated she’d already figured out what I’d done. If she expected me to feel guilty, she was sorely mistaken. Outwardly I was the most affable of the Princes of Sin, but we all had our demons to contend with.

She looked me over, her eyes glittering with annoyance. It was truly remarkable how unimpressed she was with me, considering my reputation. I understood that look, though—I’d seen it in the ice dragons. Miss Saint Lucent didn’t enjoy being trapped or reined in. And I’d done both. I fought a smile. For better or worse, my rival was now bound to me for the next several weeks.

I couldn’t tell if the odd emotion I felt was admiration or annoyance. Or some perverse mixture of both. Adriana Saint Lucent despised me enough to turn down what would have been the deal of a lifetime. She wasn’t foolish, which meant there had to be a personal reason. And that was the most dangerous kind. We held each other’s stare for an intense moment. That level of hatred was an issue I needed to investigate.

I watched her go, granting her a reprieve for now, already strategizing my next move. She’d temporarily won this round, but I was no honorable hero who’d graciously accept defeat. I’d use any means necessary to claim ultimate victory. I lived for the hunt, and she’d just made herself the most appealing target to take down.

It might not be an ice dragon hunt, but the thrill of taking her down was possibly greater.

Arrogant. Royal. Hoarfrost demon. I hoped his bollocks were attacked by fleas.

Ryleigh was silent for a few moments. She knew too well why I despised Axton. Why there would never be anything but animosity between us. She’d been there that night it all went horribly wrong, but she’d been with her own lover and missed the worst of the show. It wasn’t just the heartbreak and embarrassment; it was the realization that I didn’t belong in his world and never would. Just as my stepmother always claimed.

I’d hate myself more than I hated him if I allowed him to purchase my future. “No. Having to watch him fall in love and writing about it would be worse than continually being shat on by a flock of birds, millions of coins or not.” Ryleigh flashed a devious smile. “Indeed. I can’t imagine anything worse than valiantly walking through a storm of bird shit while having millions of coins rain down on you too.”

Tonight, I felt like that nineteen-year-old who’d taken a chance and dreamed.

It had been ten years since our… disaster. I knew he’d eventually take a wife but didn’t expect for it to sting quite so much.

“I didn’t think you’d come.” “A proper gentleman ensures a lady always comes first.” My lips curved. Clever, ridiculous male. “That line is old and tired.” “Thankfully I am not.”

“You seemed to be deep in thought,” he said. “What were you looking at so intently?” I settled back on the railing, glancing out across the city. “House Gluttony.” “Ah.” He sounded less than impressed. “Dreaming of taming the prince’s wicked heart by visiting his bed like every other maiden in the realm?” “Hardly.” His attention shifted to me, a smile touching the corners of his lips. “Interesting.” “What is?” “Most fantasize about making the debauched prince fall in love.” “Well, I believe he’s already in love.” “Oh?” His grin grew wider. “Who’s the lucky winner of that prize?” “You haven’t figured that out?” I tsked. “He’s very clearly in love with himself.” I added a touch of humor to my tone to avoid ruining our banter.

My curiosity grew with each second that passed. “I’d rather show you, Lady F. If you’re up for an adventure.” His tone held a dare. And as much as I hated to admit it, even to myself, my sin of choice was gluttony, if only for the fact that chasing thrills was one of my greatest secret desires.

The whole male species ought to be magicked away to an island to live out their days of idiocy in peace.