“Everything is under control here. You can go back to the Wild Court. Talk.”

Envy’s jaw strained. “Talk. Yes, open and honest communication worked so well for us before. There is nothing left for us to say.”

“You knew she had secrets. You’re just angry that she outplayed you. I didn’t take you to have so much… pride.”

Alexei was pushing Envy too far. Envy’s eyes flashed and Alexei held his hands up, slowly backing away.

“You like her. Enough to consider breaking your rule. Don’t let another sin get in the way. Do you think Wolf is sitting back? If you’re all right with him taking her to his bed, his cock pounding all memories of you out, then fine. Leave her to it. She’ll be better off.”

Envy stood in one of his favorite galleries—where a statue of a fallen angel was proudly displayed. All the years his wings had been trapped, he’d come here, sipping a drink as he was doing now, plotting. With his court almost fully restored, his power was growing stronger, hour by hour. He summoned his wings now, allowing them to spread wide.

It felt good. The muscles between his shoulders straining as he moved them, testing the weight. His thoughts turned to Lennox, to the final battle.

Camilla hadn’t been the one to deal the killing blow, Envy had made sure of that. He’d seen something in her face just before he drove his dagger through the Unseelie King. She did not like her father, but it would have cost something precious for her to murder him.

Camilla was good. Lennox had seen it. Hated it.

He tucked his wings in close, then leaned against the wall, his Dark and Sinful going down easy. A detail flickered across his memory. In the cavern where the Twin Pillars were, Camilla had been about to confess something to him.

Envy sipped his cocktail, turning that conversation over in his mind. Looking back, it was easy to see she’d been about to tell him who she really was. She’d known, the moment they entered the Wild Court, that he’d figure it out.

He had, though. Already known.

He scratched the back of his neck.

Truth be told, Envy had started suspecting much earlier. It was easier for him to blame her for betraying him; otherwise, he’d have to consider facing the truth. He’d recently been able to lie to others, but Envy had been lying to himself far longer.

Did his one-night rule truly protect his court, or did it prevent him from ever feeling heartbreak?

He finished his drink, staring into the glass. Camilla might not want to see him. She might be perfectly happy in the Wild Court. With Wolf.

That meddling prick Alexei, now Envy couldn’t unsee Camilla and Wolf rekindling their flame.

Envy squeezed his eyes shut. That gods-damned Fae had truly gotten under his skin too. He knew the Unseelie would be attempting to win Camilla back. Maybe he already had.

Perhaps Wolf was holding her right now.

Jealousy froze the glass in his hand, until it began to crack, drops of bourbon leaking into his palm.

Envy glared at the physical proof of his displeasure.

“Gods’ blood.”

Miss Camilla Elise Antonius, lover, betrayer, Unseelie princess, drove him absolutely fucking mad, even here, realms away from Faerie.

The question now was, what Envy was going to do about it.

He sensed one of his spies a moment before he materialized, partially corporeal.

“I have news from the Wild Court, Your Highness.”

His tone made Envy’s skin crawl. “And?”

The spy handed him a folded piece of parchment.

Envy scanned the report, then crumpled it in his fist.

“Fucking hell.”

“ARE YOU READY?” Wolf’s voice carried through Camilla’s bedchamber.

She stepped out from behind the ornate dressing screen, her silk floor-length gown a beautiful lavender gray.

Camilla looked every inch an Unseelie princess as she situated a flower crown on her head. She twisted to the side, admiring the silver cuff she wore on one of her elongated ears. Little moons and stars were carved along the metal, an ode to her heritage.

She’d stopped wearing hunter green days ago, when the Prince of Envy made no attempt to contact her. When he’d left without uttering a single word, not even a curse.

She’d been foolishly hopeful. Those first few nights. Thinking he’d returned to his court, save them, then he’d be back.

Fighting with her.

Kissing her.

Playing games they both loved.

Surely he had something to say after… everything they’d been through. Camilla thought his freeing her from her father’s cruel games meant he’d forgiven her. Or would at least allow her the chance to explain. To admit how terrible she’d felt, keeping this secret.

But she’d been so afraid. Scared that he’d react exactly this way.

His silence spoke loud and clear. The Prince of Envy was never coming back. And Camilla needed to move on with her life, help her brother Ayden establish his temporary rule, then return home, to Wisteria Way. She missed her gallery, her cat, and Kitty.

Wolf gave her a long once-over, momentarily snapping his mouth shut.

The gown was indecent by Waverly Green standards—clinging to every curve like a dream. In the Wild Court it was rather tame. But she was not interested in playing courtly games. At least not here. Things might have been different if her mother had never kidnapped her, bound most of her magic, and made her grow up human. Maybe if she’d grown up in Faerie she’d be as abominable as her older brother and sister.

Wolf’s gaze slid back up, his yellow eyes darkening. He’d made his intentions clear.

The blessed reprieve lasted only a moment. Then Wolf started in again.

“Ayden cannot rule in your father’s place forever,” he said. “We don’t even know if he’s capable. He might disappear one night and play carnival again.”

“Well, until our mother decides to return, there’s not much choice, is there?” Camilla said, her tone as gentle as she could manage.

“Your mother might not ever return, Princess.”

They’d had this same disagreement for the last week, and it was growing tedious. Camilla wanted to return to Waverly Green. Had no interest in staying to help rule the Wild Court. She had no interest in ruling the court she was supposed to see to, either. It had been running as a principality for decades and was doing just fine.

“You know I have no wish to stay here,” she said. “My brother will marry soon and have an heir. In a few decades the issue will resolve itself. His heir will rule over his court until—and if—our mother returns.”

Over the past week, Wolf had helped her glamour the minds of all who’d been tortured by the king, a necessary evil, a choice Camilla did not make easily before sending them home again.

It was one of what would be many difficult decisions in the wake of Lennox’s death.

Wolf wanted Camilla to take hold of the Wild Court before her debauched elder brother or sister scented opportunity. She’d immediately suggested Ayden step in. He had his faults, but he’d spent time among humans too.

“And you’ll simply live alone in Waverly Green, glamoured for the rest of eternity? You know that doesn’t suit you anymore. You have friends here, family. Me.”

He’d struck the one chord that always hurt. Camilla did not want to be alone.

“We could mate for life,” Wolf suggested. “I would help you acclimate again. You might not love me now, but love grows.”

“Except for that bothersome little fact that I do not wish to stay here.”

“Faerie?” he pressed. “Or the Underworld as a whole?”

Wolf was fishing. He wanted to ask what she thought about Prince Envy.

And that was much too complicated. Part of her wanted to pen him letters of apology, part of her wanted to paint his head onto an oversized donkey, pointing out that he was obviously an ass. But the longer they went without speaking, the more unsure she became.