It wasn’t enough. Envy wanted more still.

More running his fingers through her soft hair, watching her drift off to sleep, her face peaceful. Those full lips parted in dreamy contentment.

More games to play—and he was delighted he didn’t even know what they’d be yet.

Envy would remake worlds for her. Would break every rule to make her smile. He’d—

“Are you even listening?” Gluttony waved a hand in front of his face, shaking his head in disgust. “Witches’ tits. You’re worse than he is. He jabbed his thumb in Wrath’s direction. And he’s abhorrently in love. Look at him. He’s making doe-eyes at Emilia right here.”

The demon of war bared his teeth, his smile feral, so at odds with his finely made suit.

“One day you’re going to gorge yourself on those words, brother.” Wrath’s voice was laced with dark promise.

Gluttony snorted, the sound filled with derision.

The reporter he was feuding with hadn’t responded to the invitation Envy had sent, and he was sure Gluttony’s foul mood had nothing to do with that.

“Don’t count on it,” Gluttony said. “I bet Lust will be next.”

“Not a fucking chance in any of the realms combined. Where’s Sloth?” Lust asked. “Maybe he’ll make a chart and line up all the variables for me. I cannot fathom how you’re all content to bed the same person for the rest of your days.”

He shivered.

“Sloth went to find Pride,” Wrath said, gaze landing back on his wife. “I saw a book in his jacket, though.”

“Of fucking course.” Lust groaned. “I’ll see where he’s hiding. If he doesn’t start acting like a gods-damned demon, we’re all going to get bad reputations.” He jabbed a finger into Wrath’s chest. “You need to lay down a law or something.”

Wrath’s gold eyes glittered. “First rule? Don’t touch me again.”

“Don’t kill each other in this room,” Envy said. “I just had the floors waxed.”

He’d had the entire House scrubbed of any evidence of how close the court had come to falling. Looking at it now, no one would ever suspect they’d been on the brink of collapse.

Gluttony glanced around, brows knitted. “Where’s Greed?”

“There was an issue at his gaming hell,” Envy said. “He sent his regrets.”

Gluttony snorted. “I’m sure he did. Prick.”

Wrath and Gluttony began debating about boxing, and Envy took that as his cue to leave.

He strode down the corridor, walking to where Pride lounged in a chair he’d pilfered, his crown tilted to one side. His shirtsleeves were rolled to his elbows, showing corded muscle, his shirt half untucked from his trousers.

His head was tilted all the way back, his eyes closed. An empty glass hung from his fingers. Pride played the role of debauched prince so well, Envy wondered if he’d finally become that.

He stood over his brother, then kicked Pride’s boot, drawing his gaze.

It was slow, unfocused.

“Party over, Levi?”

Envy noticed the rest of the empty bottles, the broken wineglasses. They’d been shoved into the alcove beside him.

This time Pride wasn’t pretending to be the drunken royal.

“What happened?” Envy demanded.

Pride lifted a shoulder, dropping it as if he couldn’t be bothered to respond or care.

Envy kicked him harder. “Answer the damn question, Luc.”

“Sursea won’t tell me anything.”

The First Witch, Pride’s consort’s mother, had cursed them all when Pride and Lucia wed and then refused to dissolve their relationship. Witches and demons were sworn enemies, but that didn’t stop Pride from falling in love with the one witch he shouldn’t have. Lucia was strictly off-limits, but they chose each other, despite all the reasons they shouldn’t have.

One day, Lucia left House Pride without a word. Pride didn’t know if she’d been taken against her will, imprisoned somewhere, or given a True Death. He’d been searching ever since, even when the First Witch cursed them all, keeping them trapped in the Seven Circles for years. She’d done something worse to Pride before that, though, something he refused to speak of. Envy knew it had been the true root of the miscommunication between Pride and Lucia.

None of the demons felt anything but hatred for Sursea and her quest for vengeance.

“How convincing were you?” Envy asked.

Pride gave him a withering glare. “She knows where my wife is. Knows what happened. Do you think I showed any mercy?”

Envy thought Pride would never be as ruthless as he could be. He might hate the First Witch, but he loved Lucia and wouldn’t hurt her mother.

“She’s contained?” he asked.

Pride nodded. “Until I know what happened to Lucia, she stays at my House.”

“I’m going to ask you something; you’re not going to like it, but I don’t particularly care. Understand?”

Pride narrowed his eyes but nodded again.

“Do you want Vittoria?”

“That’s a bullshit question and you know it.”

“Then answer it.”

Pride’s hand tightened on his glass.

“Are you keeping something from me?”

Envy smiled. “I’ve heard rumors. Courtiers are so interesting when they’re drunk and think no one is listening.”

“Get to the point, Levi.”

Envy leaned down, lowering his voice. “I know you never fucked the goddess.”

Pride had gone perfectly still.

“I don’t know what your game is, why you let your court and wife think otherwise. I assume you have a reason. And that reason has to do with Sursea’s meddling and magic.”

He stared at his brother. Pride’s expression was carved of stone. He’d locked his emotions down entirely, not giving away any secret.

Admittedly, Envy hadn’t heard that rumor; it was a guess.

One that might prove to be true, given the way his brother had stopped breathing. If Pride hadn’t been distracted and drunk, he would have sensed the lie.

“If Lucia is alive, if she’s found happiness elsewhere, would you destroy that?”

Pride’s teeth grinded together. “Would you hurt Camilla?”

He’d sooner rip out his heart. Again.

Envy pulled the folded parchment from inside his coat, handing it to his brother. Before he let it go, he said, “Don’t screw this up.”

Pride yanked the note from his hands, then read it over.

Envy watched as the drunkenness was quickly replaced by sharpness. Pride sat straighter, body tensed, reading the note again.

“How?” His voice was barely a whisper.

“My spies have been hard at work.” Envy gave him a cold look. “Then Emilia’s ‘grandmother’ whispered a secret in my ear a few months ago.” Two, actually. That his House would soon fall, and the one he’d share now. “Lucia doesn’t remember. Any of it.”

“You saw her?”

Envy thought about the young woman he’d had kidnapped for a brief time to break the wards on Emilia’s family home, then used to force Emilia to do his bidding. Even now, his thoughts of her were muddled, like he couldn’t quite recall her face, even after their memory curse had been broken. Envy hadn’t known it was Lucia and that bothered him.

Sursea was far too powerful for his liking.

He decided to leave out the part about him sedating her with magic, no need to enrage his brother. Desperate times had called for extreme measures. “Yes, I believe so. I think she might have a glamour, though. I didn’t immediately recognize her when our paths crossed.”

Something suspiciously close to hope lighted in Pride’s gaze. “But she lives.”

Envy nodded slowly.

“Make sure you know what you want before you seek her. If it’s just your pride…”

Envy didn’t finish the thought. Pride knew.

Pride uncoiled from his chair, note clutched tightly in his fist. He ran a hand through his hair, seeming unsure of what to do next.

“Well?” Envy pressed.

“Looks like I’ll be traveling to the Shifting Isles soon.”

“You likely only have one chance.”

Pride gave him a genuine smile. “It’s more than I had this morning.”