“It needs to stop. My brothers won’t let it stand.”

“But you will?” Wolf studied him for a long moment. “Better not keep the king waiting.”

A fight broke out behind Wolf, and Envy saw his mask return. With a look of puckish delight, he howled and flung himself into the fray, biting and snarling and punching his way through the growing madness.

Envy watched impassively, the brawlers giving him a wide berth. Even the most rabid Unseelie sensed the menace radiating from him.

The Wild Court wasn’t Envy’s problem to solve. He had his own court to mend. And yet… these weren’t all strangers. They were humans he’d come to know, even briefly, while he’d been in Waverly Green. They’d come to his estate, danced at his ball.

And this torture was beyond any Fae amusement.

He could not imagine what Camilla would feel when she saw it. Hoped she was somewhere far away.

Envy pushed through the fight that had grown to two dozen Fae, heading toward the throne. Wolf was correct about one thing: Camilla was in many ways more mortal than Fae.

Surely the king would not subject his own daughter to this?

Envy hadn’t even posed the question to himself before he knew the answer.

His steps faltered as he took in the horrific sight next to the throne.

There, dressed in Envy’s colors, hung proof of what Wolf had said about the Unseelie King. Lennox would make Camilla pay for denying him.

Was making her pay.

Envy’s freshly regenerated heart thudded painfully, his need to protect urging him forward. But he had to plot his next move carefully.

This scene might have been designed to prey on Envy’s reaction to seeing Camilla trapped in a cage a dozen feet off the ground.

Or it might just be a punishment the Unseelie King doled out to a defiant child. Maybe this was his way of breaking Camilla’s will.

Nothing would surprise Envy when it came to Lennox and his manipulations. He took in her prison, noting with horror that it was much worse than he’d thought at first glance.

The birdcage was strung up over a fire, the flames licking greedily at the metal floor, heating it to an angry, orange-red hue. Inside, Camilla had been chained by iron handcuffs to the cage’s center pole.

Envy stared at the welts forming on her skin, at the smoke curling around her shoes. The metal floor must be unbearably hot, but Camilla stared out defiantly, silver eyes blazing star-bright, jaw locked. Like she refused to allow one tear to fall, to show one ounce of pain, to spite her father.

Envy went still, the full scope of what Lennox had done sinking in.

Unlike a human who would eventually succumb to the torture, Camilla’s immortality wouldn’t let her die. She would be tortured nightly, over and over until the king eventually tired and found a new game to play.

How many of the friends and acquaintances she’d made over the years would he parade past her during that time? All because she’d chosen a life for herself.

Envy now stood before the throne.

“Lennox.”

The Unseelie King’s head swiveled, his dark eyes glassy and unfocused. The chaos and fighting were fueling his power so much he was drunk on it.

“Shame you didn’t bring any other mortals,” the king slurred. “That last one amused. Greatly. The things she liked to do with her mouth… well, I’m sure you remember.”

Envy kept his attention on Lennox, made sure he didn’t glance in Camilla’s direction. His mask would slip if he did.

“Give me the chalice.”

Lennox sat forward. “That’s not all you want, though, is it? You want my daughter.”

Lennox was prying, testing. Envy threw a wall up around his emotions.

“Already had her. I don’t do repeats.”

One side of Lennox’s mouth curled up. “Interesting.”

He flicked his attention to where Camilla was trapped in the cage; Lennox was trying to force Envy to follow his gaze. He didn’t.

Lennox eyed him again, looking bored. Envy was no longer the most amusing creature in this room.

“Perhaps you and I are more alike than previously thought. I, too, believe in rules. A win is a win. Here’s your prize.”

They were not alike at all.

The king held up the Chalice of Memoria. The gold glinted in the moonlight, the runes stark as tattoos. Magic hummed from it, like sound from a struck tuning fork, almost lost in the cacophony behind them.

Lennox didn’t move from where he sat on his throne, forcing Envy to take the two steps up to him.

He felt Camilla’s gaze on him, would know the feel of it anywhere.

He did not succumb to the temptation to drive his House dagger through the Fae. At least not yet.

Envy gently wrapped his fingers around the chalice, the magic flaring when it recognized its owner. It had taken centuries, but he’d finally be able to save his court. Envy’s grip on it tightened, and the Unseelie King let it go, that mocking smirk still fixed to his face.

“Congratulations, Your Highness.” Lennox’s voice was silken, low. “I’ll give my daughter your regards. Well, after the show.”

Envy couldn’t help it; he glanced over at Camilla. Her expression was a mask of regret and pain. She held Envy’s gaze, as if silently saying a final goodbye. She knew what he’d been after.

And now he couldn’t linger.

“My little dove needs to be reminded what happens when she flies the proverbial coop. Her mother played a dangerous game, stealing her away. All because I was… how did she put it? Losing myself to depravity. As if Prim Róis ever felt an ounce of anything else herself.”

Envy’s heartbeat tripled, his mind racing. When he spoke, his tone was bored.

“You never sent her away.”

“Of course I didn’t. She’s far too valuable. Why else do you think that bitch queen kidnapped her?” Lennox stood, eyes and hair rippling darker. “Time to celebrate your princess!” he called out to his court. “Who wants to play with her in the cage?”

The Unseelie behind them erupted. In their excitement they were tearing one another apart, limbs and wings and talons flying. They wanted to hurt their princess. Watch her burn.

Later, he’d blame the influence of the wicked court, fueling his magic. He’d claim the chalice had restored him. He’d say that his hatred for Lennox made him snap. He’d lie.

When the first Fae climbed up to claw into that cage, ripping Camilla’s dress with its talons, Envy became the demon he was.

He thought of Camilla being trapped in that cage for eternity, thought of the Fae mocking her, hurting her. And the magic he’d resisted wielding to free his wings, the power he didn’t have to spare… shattered against the full might of his sin releasing.

He felt the ward around his circle break. Felt the minds of his demons slipping from his grasp. He knew he had only a few minutes, which he needed to make count.

Then he needed to be gone.

Dark, glittering emerald wings shot out from between his shoulder blades, his feathers razor-sharp, slicing through the Fae gathered near him like daggers.

Blood splattered across the silver floor.

It wasn’t nearly enough. It wasn’t Lennox’s blood.

His wings pulsed with unspoken power, the spells from the Aether Scrolls tattooed across each feather, inert for decades, searing to life. They called to him, begged him to use them. They offered a cruel spell for a crueler king. But they offered him something else first.

He plucked one of his feathers and flung it swiftly at the cage, its magically razored edge blasting the door open, freeing Camilla.

Lennox let loose a howl of rage.

Envy turned to the king, a vicious smile curving his mouth. He held his House dagger in one hand now, aiming it straight at the Unseelie King’s heart.

“Get in the cage, Lennox.”

Envy knew the king wouldn’t submit easily.

He sneered. “You first, demon.”

Lennox unleashed his moonbeam magic, blanketing them all in a complete whiteout that temporarily stole all sense of sight and sound. Like a blizzard crafted of moonlight.