Kingdom of the Cursed (Kingdom of the Wicked, #2)

by Kerri Maniscalco

“From this day forward, a curse will sweep through this land. You will forget all but your hate. Love, kindness, every good thing in your world will cease. One day that will change. When you know true happiness, I vow to take whatever you love, too.”

I’d only ever felt this cold once—in northern Italy—and I’d been young and thrilled by the snow then. I’d thought it was romantic; now I saw the truth: it was beautifully dangerous. Much like my current traveling companion.

“Try not to look too thrilled, or I might think you like me.” “Count your blessings. My liking you would be a dangerous thing.” I snorted. “Why? Would you ruin me for all other demon princes?” “Something close.”

“Shut down as many of your emotions as possible. They’re only going to get more intense from this point forward. Aside from fear, this world thrives on both sin and desire in equal measure.”

“Tell me,” he whispered, his voice sliding like silk over my flushed skin. “What?” My own voice came out breathless. “I am your favorite sin.”

“One thing I can promise,” his voice was deep and sensual in the dark, “is you won’t ever doubt it’s real when I touch you.”

“Love and hate are both rooted in passion.”

“What are you smirking at?” “I’m fantasizing about painting the world with your blood.”

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

“Fury. Almost free. Maiden, Mother, Crone. Past, present, future, find.”

“Seven stars, seven sins. As above, so below.”

He looped a necklace over my head, the weight of it settling just above my cleavage, and fastened it more slowly than was necessary. But I didn’t complain or step away. When he was done, he trailed one finger down my spine, following the line of the thin chain, inadvertently coaxing a small shudder. It took every ounce of stubbornness I could muster to not lean into his caress. To recall my hatred. Because surely that’s what that feeling was: the all-consuming, raging fire of loathing.

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