Night-blooming vines twisted around tables and upturned chairs, while Fae rolled around the earth, tangled in each other, completely unaware of their newest guests.

Until all at once they weren’t oblivious anymore.

Envy counted how many Unseelie surrounded them, strategizing the best plan to keep Camilla from harm should they desire to stir up discord.

The dark Fae stared at them, some snickering, some sharing knowing looks.

Against his better judgment, Envy grabbed Camilla’s hand, an unspoken promise that he would not leave her side. No matter what.

Camilla raised her chin, ignoring the growing whispers.

To be Seelie in this place was not ideal.

Envy was proud of her defiance. Of her unwillingness to be cowed.

The Unseelie were midnight creatures, born of moonlight and wickedness. And they were all suddenly still, staring as Camilla dropped Envy’s hand.

She started walking toward the Shadow Storm throne.

“Camilla,” he whispered, charging after her.

No matter what Lennox wanted with her, no matter how their courts felt, it was dangerous for her to march toward him, almost in challenge. Light against dark. The night battling the day.

Envy’s hand twitched toward his dagger. He couldn’t use it before he’d collected his prize.

He prayed Camilla had a plan. That she wouldn’t forget that he still had much at stake.

She stepped nimbly over broken branches and shattered glass, her attention fastened on the Fae male who’d put this cursed game into play. Her expression was as cold as his was.

Lennox, the Unseelie King, had stopped speaking midsentence, watching her approach. Silver-and-white hair cascaded down to his shoulders, his skin a deep bronze. Elegant pointed ears poked from beneath that sheet of ethereal hair.

He was ageless. Beautiful. And utterly without conscience.

It was easy to see why so many mortals thought him a god. He was cold, untouchable. Forbidden. He had no concept of morality. Lennox did as he pleased whenever he pleased. And if someone died? It was their fault for being fragile. Some believed he’d inspired mortal gods, had actually been the great Zeus.

Envy knew he was no mere god, he was a Titan. The beings who birthed the gods for their amusement. But mortals had it wrong in their legends—the Titans weren’t bested by their offspring. They thrived in the chaos.

The way he looked at Camilla… Envy’s sin threatened to ice over the entire court. But finally, Lennox’s gaze, midnight black with glittering stars winking in and out, shifted to Envy.

A cruel smile lifted his full lips.

“Prince Envy.”

While Lennox might have tried to orchestrate the outcome of the game, it had played out differently than he’d anticipated. It was written all over his cold, arrogant face. Something dark paced in his gaze, amused.

In a life that spanned eons, anything that produced a thrill was welcome. Whether stirring up discord, crafting war, or meddling with mortals, Lennox lived for the Wild Hunt he’d once created.

A hunt the Seelie had forbade him from continuing, as once per year, he’d unleashed the most ruthless hunters of their kind. Their prey was human and Fae alike.

Envy’s attention cut to Camilla. Was that why Lennox wanted her? To somehow barter or—more likely—threaten the Seelie with giving him back the Hunt?

“Well. This is unexpectedly pleasant.”

His voice was a dark rumble, more elemental in nature than any human sound. It could raise tides, summon constellations, make the moon itself fall at his feet.

Only to be crushed if it amused him.

Envy paused beside Camilla, slanting a look in her direction. She’d completely shielded her emotions from him.

Her attention had shifted to the male Lennox had been speaking with. A golden-skinned, dark-haired Fae with dark eyes. He wore a deep crimson tailcoat, looking like a ringmaster.

“Ayden.” Camilla’s voice was cold.

Envy glanced between them, brows knitted. That she would know another Fae wasn’t surprising. But that one… He knew who Ayden was by name. Knew he was an Unseelie prince. And her tone. He swore his heart started to thud painfully against his chest.

“Last I heard, you were terrorizing mortals with your carnival tricks. What was it? The midnight circus?” she asked, her tone mocking.

Envy had gone very still beside her.

The Fae gave her a once-over, annoyance clear in the pressing of his mouth.

“The Moonlight Carnival.”

Lennox chuckled, dark and ominous.

“Still boasting about your midnight bargains?” Camilla needled. “Who was the unfortunate lady this time? I assume she didn’t succumb to your seduction, or else she’d be here.”

The Unseelie Prince tugged at his white gloves. Envy noticed moons stitched across the knuckles, the ode to his court.

“Still pretending to be a mortal artist?” the Unseelie Prince shot back.

“Better than a two-bit magician.”

Envy’s gaze bored into her, like two hot pokers at the back of her head. He knew she sensed it, saw the slight stiffening of her shoulders.

A horrible, startling realization clicked into place.

Envy forced his feet to stay planted on the ground, not to let the betrayal show.

Lennox had been watching very closely, so Envy knew the moment he’d decided to have his own fun. He leaned forward, steepling his fingers.

“Children,” he all but purred. “Enough.”

His gaze was fixed on Envy. The flicker of victory unmistakable.

Envy’s hands curled into fists. His expression as icy as the coldness rushing through his soul. Camilla had been keeping many secrets, it seemed.

Camilla was not Seelie.

She was an Unseelie princess.

Daughter of the male who’d ruined his court. His worst enemy.

A flash crossed his mind of when she’d nearly fainted on Vexley’s roof. Of course. The metal roof had been iron. No wonder she’d gotten so ill.

She finally dared a glance in his direction, but Envy refused to acknowledge her.

Envy might be a ruthless bastard, but Camilla had far outplayed him.

How foolish he must have seemed to her, speaking of his hatred for Unseelie royalty.

While fucking her on his throne. He thought of that night in a new light now, of her mockery. She’d owned Envy on his seat of power, knowing damn well her father had royally fucked his court. It was really quite impressive, how alike she was to Lennox.

To think he’d even briefly fantasized about breaking his rule for her.

Screwing Envy and his throne. It sure as hell would be the last time an Unseelie royal ever played him.

“The game is over,” Envy said, definitely feeling the first slow beats of his heart. Of course it would fucking regenerate now. Right when it was poised to break. “Where’s my prize?”

CAMILLA IMAGINED ENVY hated her beyond anything, had probably jumped to all the wrong conclusions the moment Lennox confirmed their familial connection, because she hadn’t confided the truth. She wanted to comfort him, to explain, to beg forgiveness, but weakness in the Wild Court would never stand. If her true father saw how much she cared for the prince…

She gave her father, the Unseelie King, a ruthless smile her mother had taught her.

“He won the game, but I want my talent back. Now.”

She finally flicked a glance over her shoulder, scanning the demon. Envy stared back at her, hard. If looks could kill, Camilla would be lying dead at his feet this moment.

“Give him his prize and be done with it,” she said, bored.

The Unseelie King sat back, studying her far too closely.

“You speak for him?” Lennox asked, his voice low with warning. “Why.”

It wasn’t a question.

“You sent him to my realm. Had him require my assistance for your pathetic game. Then you had the Hexed Throne steal my talent.”