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She had really gotten herself into a mess.
The thought was almost funny, given she was already in Hell and was married to a prince. However, in her short stay in House Pride, she realized just how lucky she was to have had the protection charm preventing Wrath from taking out his anger on her.
Her typical temper and sharp tongue had made Wrath angry and occasionally storm off, but she had never been frightened he would hurt her. That was not the case with Pride, who may be the most lethal prince she had met so far.
Her mistake had happened so quickly. The words had fallen out of her mouth before she realized the implications. Truthfully, as she stood before Pride while many members of his House and others looked on, she couldn’t remember her exact phrasing, but the point remained; she had insulted him, and that was a deadly mistake.
Pride glared down at her from his throne. “You would be smart to remember your place, wife.” He sneered at the last word.
“Please forgive me,” Emilia begged, bowing her head in submission, hoping to please him enough to let her go. She couldn’t provide much of an apology because he would know she was lying, so asking for mercy was the best she could manage.
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“I am a forgiving husband, so I won’t lay a hand on you for your words.” His eyes shifted in predatory focus on her, “But what husband would I be if I let such actions go unpunished. We couldn’t have you making that mistake again, could we?”
He clapped his hands, and two dark figures appeared and stalked towards Emilia before she could protest. The first approached and landed a punch to her stomach. As she doubled over, another blow struck her back, followed by a dozen more excruciating blows.
Emilia wasn’t sure if the beating had lasted minutes or hours, but by the time it was over, she had to be carried back to her chambers, which were separate from Pride’s rooms.
She was dumped onto the bed and left to her injuries. Every inch of her ached, but she would survive. After a few hours of agony, she felt eyes on her, but it hurt too badly to move to find the source of whoever was staring.
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“Come to enjoy the show?” she called out bitterly. The last thing she wanted was to be gawked at by some lesser demon.
“I have no interest in watching your wallowing.”
It was Wrath’s voice. Surprise and another feeling Emilia refused to name coursed through her veins, and she struggled to sit up to face him. The movement sent a blinding shot of pain through her abdomen. It seemed several broken ribs were on the list of her injuries.
Wrath was at her side before she could register his movements. “Be careful, or you will pierce a lung,” he hissed in warning.
She groaned as he helped her lean back down onto the bed and sat carefully on the edge.
“Why… are… you… here?” She asked between breaths. Moving had undoubtedly been a bad idea.
Sadness or maybe pity flashed on his face before it returned to a blank expression.
“Your injuries need healing,” Wrath said matter-of-factly.
A strained laugh escaped her lips. What would it cost her if she allowed Wrath to heal her wounds? “Sorry, I already gave my soul away. I’m not sure I have anything else you want.”
The meaning behind her words caused her unexpected pain. It was a reminder of what they had been and what they were now. They had never been explicitly friends, but trust had been growing between them, along with other feelings. But after he had come back after dying, he had only met her with cold indifference. She no longer had anything to offer him, but if that was the case, why was he here?
Wrath shook his head, looking murderous.
“We are past making bargains.” He took one of her broken wrists in his hand, and she felt a cool relief that began to build into a burning sensation. “This is going to be painful before it gets better.”
He was right, of course. Emilia tried not to squirm as she felt the bones in her wrist move. A cold sweat began to break out across her skin. If this was the price of healing, she wasn’t sure if she wanted Wrath to heal her.
The burning sensation subsided as Wrath let go of her wrist. Gently, he moved to face her. His eyes burned into hers with a silent assessment before he slowly pressed his lips to her forehead. Emilia felt the pull of sleep, and soon her eyes were closing without her permission.
When she woke up sometime later, she sat up suddenly, looking around the room for him. She quickly realized he was not in the room, followed by the realization that she was no longer in any pain. She looked down at her body and marveled at how much better she felt. It was better than normal; it was similar to how healed she felt after recovering from her encounter with Lust. New and reenergized.
She slid from the bed and walked over to the dresser, where a small note sat. There was no question who left it, so she tore into it to read what Wrath had written.
Be more careful. I won’t become a permanent guest just to watch over and inevitably heal the wounds you collect.
-W
Of course, Wrath was most concerned with how her injuries impacted him. It was good to know that he was still honoring her protection clause, even though it was technically a marriage bond and she was married to his brother now.
His decision to heal her could spark conflict between his and his brother’s houses. From the history Emilia had gathered since her arrival, war had broken out between brothers over less. Wrath was relieved of his bond to her when she agreed to marry Pride, so why risk a fight?
__________
The question replayed in Emilia’s head until she caught a glimpse of Wrath again. He was walking out of a doorway she recognized as a strategy room. To his right was Anir and to his left was someone else she identified as a member of Wrath’s house.
Emilia quickened her pace and caught up to the group before they could teleport away.
“Wrath!” she exclaimed.
At the sound of her voice, his head whipped around to look at her. She noted how his gaze immediately circled the hallway to note everyone within sight before looking back down to her.
“Do you address all the princes so informally?”
Emilia scowled.
Anir laughed and exchanged pleasantries with her before nodding once at Wrath then disappearing with the other person.
The hallway had emptied besides the two of them, and words seemed to fail her upon the realization. Now that they were alone, Wrath wore a smug grin as he gave her a look over, clearly proud of his healing work.
“I wanted to thank you, but I can take it back now,” she quipped, leaning against the wall.
He shrugged, “I pity the recipient of my brother’s barbarism.”
Emilia raised a challenging eyebrow. Wrath rolled his eyes and amended his statement, “I only allow that kind of abuse on deserving individuals.”
“I seem to recall on several occasions you saying how much suffering you would bring me if I hadn’t bound you,” she teased.
He took another step towards her, softly exploring her face. They were close enough that his fingers were able to brush against her palm, sending butterflies through her stomach. She fought the instinct to grab his hand. They were already closer than business called for, and a few servants had moved into the hallway. Any number of spies could be reporting back to Pride at this moment.
He murmured softly, “A husband should never allow harm to come to his wife.” Wrath pulled away, and within a step, he disappeared out of the room, leaving her alone to process his words.
Weeks passed, but she didn’t see Wrath once. She had become accustomed to catching glimpses of him pretty regularly, so his extended absence made Emilia wonder what exactly he was doing. Was he avoiding her, or had he simply gotten tired of her. After all, they had no ties together anymore, apart from their shared tattoo, which she told herself didn’t mean anything.
That didn’t stop her from hoping that maybe something more laid in their future. Friends possibly? Once in Hell, she found Wrath’s presence to be a familiar comfort. In her current environment, one had to make the best of the limited company. He remained the only person who hadn’t tried to set up another nasty bargain with her or threatened her outright, and there was the little matter of him saving her life a few times now and his most recent decision to heal her injuries which would still have been causing her pain.
Tonight House Pride was hosting a party, not that there wasn’t a party every night, but this one seemed to be more important. Pride often kept details of politics and the houses from her, but she received specific instructions to make an appearance tonight and had already seen Greed and Gluttony around. Her heart leaped at the thought of seeing another prince, one with an affinity for fury.
In anticipation of the party, Emilia dressed in a strikingly beautiful black tulle gown. The off-the-shoulder dress had long flowing sleeves embroidered with twisting gold snakes, and the bodice was ribbed with metal rods that matched the golden color of her tiara. The dress had been part of a lineup of six dresses made available for her for the evening. The gown stood out in stark contrast to the lighter shades of grays and purples of the other dresses. She couldn’t help but wonder if someone had slipped the dress in after the official gown maker had made the delivery.
The party was uneventful. Several hours passed without getting even a glimpse of Wrath. By that time in the night, no one paid her very much attention, so she began to make her way through the maze of rooms that seemed to host various sins in hopes of returning to her chambers.
The feast room was obviously inspired by Gluttony, as food of every kind was stacked almost to the ceiling, there were at least ten different wine fountains, and piles of gold and jewels decorated the center of every table.
Emilia sipped a glass of wine as she made her way into the adjoining room filled with thick smoke. The absence of light made it difficult to determine who occupied the space, but she could make out dozens of different chairs, couches, and even beds. Music played loudly in the background, covering up any sounds she could make out in the room. The smoke made her eyes water, and the various scents ranging from sweet mint to foul skunk made her nose burn.
Ready to be back in the safety of her room, she walked quickly towards the sliver of light marking the doorway out. In her efforts to leave, her foot caught on something and sent her tumbling to the ground and the wine glass flying. She glared back to see what tripped her. Her stomach flopped as she realized whose feet she had tripped over.
Wrath lounged on the couch in front of her. He was taking a drag from one of the various sources of smoke in the air. He hadn’t seemed to notice her falling over him, as his head still laid back and his eyes were closed. The first three buttons of his shirt were undone, exposing an indecent amount of chest and his hair was deliciously unkempt. He looked even more attractive than usual.
Her heart sank as she took in the scene on the couch. Two women sat on either side of him, running their hands over him, kissing his neck, and giggling obnoxiously. Wrath seemed to pay them little attention as they continued to paw over him like he was a god.
He was royalty, after all, but that didn’t defuse her irritation. What bothered her more was that she couldn’t tell if she was angry he would allow such women to touch or furious that it wasn’t her perched on his lap, tasting his jawline.
Emilia stood up, wiping away the bit of wine that had spilled. It turned out that black was good for hiding blood and wine stains. She muttered a few words of Latin before commanding both women to leave. A glossy haze spread over their eyes. They abruptly detangled themselves from Wrath and left. Several months in Hell had changed her moral compass on certain spells.
“Are you going to apologize for tripping me?” Emilia asked over the music, placing her hands on her hips.
Wrath’s eyes opened suddenly, and he looked at her in a moment of disbelief. It took him a second to notice the two women were gone.
“You scared away my entertainment,” he grumbled.
With unnatural speed, he pulled her down next to him. His arm remained around her waist, keeping her pressed to his side. Her skin heated under his touch. She hated the way his proximity made her body betray her. As they sat there unspeaking, Emilia hopelessly tried to calm her beating heart, which seemed to be pounding as loud as the music. From her position on the couch, she realized the smoke in the air had an enchantment on it that made seeing anything a few feet away impossible.
Finally, he leaned over to speak directly into her ear, “How are you enjoying your evening, witch?” The heat of his breath on her skin tickled and caused a sound of pleasure to escape her before she could stop it. She felt Wrath tense before he returned to the crook of her neck, nuzzling against her softly. “Emilia, do you enjoy this?”
“No,” she breathed in denial.
Of course, he caught the lie, and the most delicious laugh escaped his throat. Slowly, he began trailing kisses from the length of her jaw down to her exposed collarbones. Her hand reached for his shirt, gripping it tightly.
“We are going to get in trouble,” she exhaled as he nipped at the soft part of her throat. He shook his head.
“If you’re only concerned about us getting caught, then don’t worry.”
He gently wrapped his free hand around her throat and tilted her head back to give him more access to her neck. While at the same time, the hand that had been holding her to him trailed down her thigh. Both of their restraint was shattering by the second as Emilia moaned again.
His sinful hands continued to roam over the curves of her body. Emilia began to forget all the reasons why this was a bad idea, as a hot ache between her legs had her full of need. All she knew was she wanted more of him, and she wanted it now.
Emilia let her hand slide down the front of his shirt until it found the evidence of his arousal. His breath hitched when she rubbed him once through his pants. It was the last chord holding him back.
He scooped her into his arms and murmured a warning before she felt them transporting to wherever it was that Wrath found better suited for their needs. The burning only lasted a second before she felt Wrath carry her down a long corridor.
“Where are we?” She asked as they turned into a grand bedroom. The walls were a deep shade of red lined with beautiful works of art. The room was spacious but mostly empty except for the enormous four-poster bed and a lounge area with a bar.
His hand lingered on her lower back as he gently set her down. “My home,” he said with a coy smile.
As Emilia admired the room that was undeniably his, Wrath stepped away to pour them each a glass of wine.
The intensity of the desire that had overcome her in the dark had subsided some, giving her a moment of clarity to think about the consequences of their actions.
“What is Pride going to do when he finds out you stole me?”
Wrath took a long drink from his glass before setting it down and looking at her. His eyes were alight with a burning that she had never seen before. “You were mine first.” His words bit through the air, sounding both like a threat and a promise; of what she wanted to find out.
The possessiveness of his declaration had Emilia squeezing her legs together, fighting the heat pooling in her stomach. Despite the anticipation she felt to let him claim her, the timing of his words was all wrong.
“You never wanted me.”
His power flared through the room so strongly that Emilia was sure if she reached out, she could touch it.
“I sacrificed myself for you only to find out you agreed to be his bride a day later,” his words were carefully monotone, as if not to give away his feelings, which only upset Emilia more.
“Don’t act like this is my fault,” she spat at him. “I tried to summon you. Over and over...” her voice began to crack, “but you never came.”
Confusion washed over his features while he considered her words. He slowly crossed the distance between them, “I didn’t… It takes time to recover from such injuries.” He brushed an angry tear from her cheek.
As she closed her eyes, willing the tears that burned behind her eyelids to go away, she felt his arms wrap around her, pulling her into a warm embrace. Her head rested on his chest, and she could feel his heart beating quickly beneath his skin. His hands held her protectively, and when she realized he meant to stay, she melted into him. Her tears dried, and she remembered where and with who she stood. They were on borrowed time. She released her grip on the front of his shirt and began to pull away when he tugged her back against him.
With unusual softness, Wrath caressed the side of her face, longing in his eyes.
“Tell me you prefer him. That you don’t want me.”
She didn’t want Pride, never had. Wrath had lied to her, but that didn’t negate everything else he had done to earn her trust and her affection. She wanted him desperately for months now.
Emilia hardened her gaze and pulled back to meet his eyes, knowing the lie that was about to cross her tongue.
“I prefer him; I don’t want you,” she responded in a sultry tone.
A huff was the only warning Wrath gave her before his lips met hers. Nothing about his kiss was gentle; it was violent and brutal and everything she had been craving since the last time he had her pressed against a wall. His tongue brushed against hers, and it was all she could do to keep upright. Strong hands found her hips, pulling her closer. She was desperate for more of him, and he clung to her like a lifeline. One of her hands fisted into his hair, pulling hard, and he hummed in pleasure.
They both seemed to agree at the same time that too much clothing remained between them. Wrath lifted her with ease and brought her legs around him. His fingers expertly began untying her dress without looking at the complex knots that held her attire together. By the time he walked her over to the bed, her dress was ready to slip off.
Wrath set her down, and the fabric of her dress pooled around her ankles. He cursed at the sight before him. She was his salvation, and it was past time he showed his devotion. Waiting no longer, he lifted her and onto the dark silk sheets. Emilia gasped at the cool sensation, but as he stalked towards her, trapping her frame with his, she forgot such a trivial thing.
Her thoughts could barely keep up with her desires as his tongue lazily swept across her skin. If he didn’t touch her soon, Emilia thought she might combust. She had secretly thought of this for months. One of the few pleasures she had found in the new world was the sweet release picturing him had brought her. During those nights, she had to cover her mouth to mute the sound of his name on her lips as she came, but tonight they were far away from listening ears.
Wrath sensed the surge in her desire and moved his hand to the apex of her thighs, feeling how wet she was. As he began rubbing her clit in slow rotations, she moaned his name.
Eager to hear her again, Wrath took one of her breasts into his mouth and bit down sharply before giving it a gentle lick, earning him another noise. He brought his attention to the other side while keeping the pressure consistent on her clit.
Returning to her mouth, he kissed her deeply. “Hmm, I wonder if you cunt tastes as good as your lies.”
A violent blush spread across Emilia’s face. Wrath moved off the bed without preamble and slid her to the edge, where he situated himself between her legs. He licked his lips devilishly at the sight of her spread before him.
“You’ll have to find out,” she breathed, failing the attempt to sound unaffected by the proposition.
Wrath chuckled at her show of indifference, knowing it would soon shatter. He spread her legs further apart and let his tongue trail up one thigh, which he swung over his shoulder. An involuntary shiver rippled through her body as he licked the length of her slit. More sweet sounds came from her mouth.
Wrath feasted on her like a starved man. Eventually, he added one finger, then a second into her hot folds, preparing her for what was to come. More curses filled the room as her pussy clenched around his fingers; she was so close. He kept his ministrations steady, rubbing the rough patch inside her while he took her into his mouth again. The orgasm rippled through her, sending waves of bliss everywhere. He placed a final kiss on her swollen clit before standing up to remove his clothes.
Her mouth went dry at the sight of his full length, thick and erect. She had an idea of how big he was when she felt him on the couch, but seeing him was different.
“Enjoying the sight?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.
Emilia laughed. “It is alright,” she said, still breathless from her waning orgasm.
Wrath scoffed.
Leaning forward, she licked the tip, savoring the taste of him. But before she could take him fully in her mouth, Wrath tilted her head up to face him. He nipped at her lips before muttering, “I’ll show you just what ‘alright’ feels like.”
Before Emilia could react, Wrath had her lying flat on the bed again. He teased her entrance, taking his time to enjoy the sensitive contact. He looked to her for confirmation she was ready before seating himself fully inside her. He pulled out slowly, ensuring her body was adjusting to his size, before finding a rhythm.
The lewd sounds of their bodies meeting echoed around the room. His teeth caught her lip and tugged playfully before releasing her to grab the top of the headboard for more leverage. In response, Emilia tilted her hips, giving him deeper access. Wrath was ruthless in his efforts, and she was confident the entire mansion could hear her as he continued to fill her over and over again.
It was all too much and not enough at the same time. She wanted every inch of him to consume her until she could forget everything else.
She reached a hand up to the back of his neck, encouraging him to come closer. He responded instantly, meeting her body with his but careful not to crush her entirely.
Before long, she felt the involuntary tremble course through her body, signaling another orgasm was coming. Her nails dug into the hard plains of his back as he continued to fill her relentlessly. A wicked part of her hoped the scratches would linger, marking him as hers.
“Wrath… wrath…” she whispered his name like a prayer as she approached the edge. “Please,” she whimpered.
He reached down to give her the additional friction she needed.
“Come for me, Emilia,” he commanded between thrusts, “Come for your husband.”
His words were too much, and her second orgasmed crashed into her more intensely than the first. White hot pleasure burned through her. Wrath increased his pace, his thrusts becoming more erratic until he found his own release.
He collapsed beside her, their bodies happily entangled. Emilia looked up at him, drinking in the rawness of his expression. He had never looked at her with such reverence before. Wrath took her chin between his thumb and forefinger and placed a chaste kiss on her lips before carefully, rotated them both so she could lay on his chest.
They laid there together until their breathing returned to normal. Emilia absent-mindedly stroked the tattoo on his arm that they shared. As she ran a nail up and down it, new flowers bloomed across his skin. Her own arm had a burning sensation that meant her tattoo was changing too. She had never found anything in her family’s grimoire to explain why this happened. The tattoo seemed to evolve on its own.
“I don’t want to go back,” Emilia murmured against his skin.
“Then, welcome home.”
Emilia propped herself up on an elbow to look at him.
“It isn’t that simple.”
He frowned, “Why, not?”
“I married your brother when I came here!” Emilia said in exasperation. Of all people, he should be the last person to need an explanation. She moved off the bed to retrieve her dress that still laid discarded on the floor.
Her feet barely touched the cold tile before Wrath pulled her back into his arms. He squeezed her middle and kissed her neck playfully.
“Our binding is eternal; you could “marry” as many people as you wanted, but you will always be mine.”
“I don’t think Pride will see it that way,” she muttered, laying back against his chest, too tired to argue.
Wrath’s nose traced invisible patterns on her neck, “He already has.”
This caught Emilia’s attention. She turned in his lap, “What do you mean?”
“We made an arrangement before I brought you to him.”
Emilia’s mouth dropped. This time when she pulled away, he let her. She crossed her arms, demanding to know what he was talking about.
Wrath leaned back onto an elbow, “Emilia, do you want me?”
“Not unless you explain yourself right now.” Wrath glared at her, waiting. “Fine. Yes, of course, I want you.”
Wrath stood, releasing the damper on his power, allowing his essence to fill the room.
“My brother knew about our arrangement before you agreed to be his queen. I didn’t refute it because surely you had your reasons. But if you changed your mind, we would both honor it.”
Emilia stared in shock as she tried to work through what Wrath was suggesting. “So, now that I’ve chosen you…?”
Wrath grinned wickedly.
“You’re mine?” Emilia asked.
He nodded, “You’re mine.”