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July 29 - July 30, 2025
It was those insistent murmurs about the dangerous prophecy connected to their curse that finally convinced Sofia to steal the first book of spells: the only grimoire that outlined how to scry with dark magic.
She watched as a witch, who must be the First Witch, cursed that demon. Her vengeance and hate were so powerful Sofia could practically feel it through the illusion.
A young witch—one she knew well—gripped a memory stone in one hand and a dagger in the other.
Yet… if they weren’t, then everything the coven elders had told them had been a lie. Including where they were from.
Sofia was too full of dark magic, too shaken by the truth she’d learned, to notice the dangerous gleam entering the other witch’s eyes. “Neither will you.”
Soon all she could see were those strange images the mirror had shown her.
“And I vow to make every one of them happen.”
They seemed to be triggered each time Wrath and I engaged in romantic acts, so that was probably the cause of this one now.
“Domenico Nucci.” The young man who sold arancini with his family in Palermo stared at me with vehemence. Deadly looking claws shot out of his fingertips, then retracted, reminding me that he was no more human than I was. I’d almost forgotten that the man I’d thought my twin had been secretly courting was a shape-shifter. Werewolf, to be exact.
“Is my physical body still in the Seven Circles?”
“Do you know what you are, Emilia?”
“Well, well, sister.”
This stranger was something other. Something that made the fine hair along my arms stand on end.
That little lie was something I imagined they fed to you, their favored one. Or should I say, the most feared.”
“Some bonds can never be broken, Emilia. And some choices have consequences akin to death. Take it from someone who knows all too well what that’s like.”
“If anyone chains you again, I will become every nightmare mortals have ever had of me and then some.”
Wrath, the mighty demon of war, was giving me a sponge bath. And it felt positively divine.
“There is a hexed blade that can kill me.”
“Your so-called First Witch created hexed objects. Our records indicate three, but the actual number was never confirmed. Only one was ever found to be truly dangerous to a prince of Hell, the Blade of Ruination.”
“None of the objects have been recovered. They disappeared when the witch and her spies did.”
“Warn someone before you march around like”—he waved a hand at me—“that.”
“Greed’s circle has been breached.” Anir glanced between me and the demon at my back, his expression grim. “There’s been a murder.”
“Did you—” “See you blow my brother until he questioned his belief in the Divine?”
Murder, unfortunately, seems to be an aphrodisiac only for House Wrath. Surprising to none, actually.”
“Vesta.”
“Werewolf attack.”
Given what we know of our main suspect and who she associates herself with, it’s the conclusion that makes the most sense. Especially combined with the rubies.
They were laying out the evidence. Against my sister.
“Vittoria had an alliance with you. Why would she attack your House? What were the terms of your agreement?”
“By attacking a member of House Greed, causing severe bodily harm and death, Vittoria Nicoletta di Carlo has openly declared war on the Seven Circles, and as such, she is now considered an enemy of the realm.
Wrath was well aware that, without our marriage completed, I was not yet officially a member of any House of Sin, and his royal decree didn’t apply to me at all.
In a different demon House, Wrath pressed me against the wall in a darkened corridor, wringing pleasure from my body as he thrusted into me. We’d both torn my clothing entirely off but kept his trousers on. And the idea of him half-clothed drove me wild. My attention was riveted to the hand with the serpent tattoo as it worked my body, bringing me to the brink of climax then slowing down until I was mad with want. He liked to tease, to draw out my pleasure until I took it on my own.
Did you remember something?” “I… I’m not sure. I saw us. In the past. Just now.” I moved to the bed and sat, my gaze locked onto the ink. “We were in a dark corridor, making love. And these same words appeared.”
“Has this always been here? Hidden by a glamour?”
“You are the one she tried to make me hate for eternity. But she failed.”
Wrath was feeding me his power, likely a result of our marriage bond.
There was a reason I was aligned best with my sin of choice.
the Crone had said Wrath was my mirror. I’d suspected then but couldn’t reconcile the truth of how.
“Welcome back, your majesty.”
I was not a witch. I was the goddess of fury. If I didn’t just witness the truth, I’d still not believe it.
“It’s yours,”
“Vittoria is the goddess of death, isn’t she?” “Yes.”
It could not have been a coincidence that Vittoria had left the incantation needed to summon Wrath where I’d find it. I just needed to know why.
She’d murdered her own lover. She’d murdered the witches on our island. The why was still a mystery, but I now knew who.
“We are hell gods, Emilia. We are the Feared.”
“Neither witches, nor shifters, nor even princes of Hell can stand against us when we’re united. Your power is awakening. It’s time to take back what is ours. It’s time to come home.”
A glowing blade protruded from his chest.
My magic fed the spell; the more I fought to get free, the more trapped I’d become. It was a nasty little trick, but effective. Goddess curse her. “Vittoria!”
“Mortal no more. Seems like immortality has won out. No surprise there. Though you’re not healing, which is rather curious.”
Shadow’ because you possess a mere shade or shadow of your true power. ‘Witch’ because with so much dilution of your magic, that is what you are. What all witches are—descendants of goddesses.”
