With nothing left to say to the lying scoundrel before her, Camilla headed toward the door, but paused with a sinking heart. She
Camilla took a deep breath. She knew very little of how the games worked, but she’d heard legends of their deadly stakes before, and of the sneaky game master himself. Losing her talent, her ability to paint, was the one thing he’d known she’d never endure, the one move he could make that guaranteed she’d play.
And if she was joining a current game, then odds were that was what Synton—Envy—damn it, whoever he was, had been up to all along. She felt her anger rising, but she reminded herself that if all this was true, then she needed Envy. At least until she figured out what she had to do next. Or she found another player to…
She closed her eyes. Of course. Lord Garrey. Recalling how Synton had helped him meet his end, she wasn’t sure it would be a good idea to let the demon prince know he had a new competitor—her.
And it’d be an even worse idea to let him find out she’d kept her own secret all along too. For now, she’d not reveal anything about her stolen talent, either. He’d become suspicious.
What was one more secret, anyway?
When she opened her eyes again, Envy was standing directly before her, looking dangerous.
“Do you know what the throne said?”
“A bunch of gibberish.” She tried to say it calmly, but her heart pounded so hard she worried he’d hear it.
“You are proving my point beautifully, Your Highness,” she managed.
“It was a clue.” Envy looked briefly offended. “An anagram.
Camilla’s mouth snapped shut.
The prince didn’t miss a beat. His smile was victorious.
She kept her face blank. Her game and his were truly intertwined.
“So you see, my darling,” he continued, “you have unwittingly become a part of the game I’m playing. A game I have spent many years waiting to win.”
He had no idea how correct he was about that.
With his free hand, he made to reach for her, then dropped it before making contact, a serious look overtaking his face.
“I might have lied to you about my name and title, but you have to understand, I will use any means necessary to win.” Then he gave her a wolfish smile. “And I love being a sinner too much to ever be a saint.”
“No one would nominate you for sainthood.”
“And be glad of that. Saints don’t typically kill to protect their investments.”
“Is that what you think I am?
“I think you’re delaying the inevitable and wasting time.”
“Perhaps I want you on your knees, apologizing before I decide what to do.”
His expression turned dark with sinful promise.
“I’ve been on my knees for you. If you want me there again, just ask. But if you expect an
She gave him a withering look but said nothing.
“Choose to accompany me, or don’t, Miss Antonius. Either way, you’re coming with me to House Sloth.”
Heat coiled low in her belly. Most inconveniently. She
Camilla cursed that wretched little deviant inside her, the one who purred seductively at the villain for his unbridled vices and mocked the hero for his unshakable virtues.
Life would be so much simpler if she would fall for the male whose moral compass was as dependable as the North Star.
But helping Envy was the key to helping herself now. For better or worse, they were partners in this game, no matter that he didn’t know that. At least not yet.
“Since you need me for whatever the next clue suggests,” she said at last, “I want time to prepare, at least.”
Her tone was firm, her stance clear. This would be a negotiation, or she’d find another way to play the game.
Envy looked her over. “An hour.”
“Two.”
He stared at her a long moment. His expression was carved from stone, but she swore she saw the faintest flicker of respect before he blinked it away.
“Two hours,” he agreed, gritting his teeth. “Eat, bathe, dress warmly. We’ll leave precisely at midnight.”
She graced him with a single nod.
He held the studio door open for her. “Camilla?”
She paused on the threshold, glancing back.
“If you run, I will chase you.”
She saw how serious he was. Envy would pursue his goal ruthlessly.
Part of her was intrigued by the intensity of wanting something so badly that no moral line would go uncrossed. A male that driven, that focused… fascinated her on the most basic level.
She spun around, heading for her chamber before he could see the tiny thrill she felt at that dangerous vow.
WELL?” ENVY BARKED, staring out through the window at the dark hedge maze.
