Wrath’s hands curled into fists, but Envy pressed on.

“Pride might hate Sursea, but he’d never allow any true harm to come to the mother of his wife. Your quest for peace would incite the very war you claim to want to avoid. Pride would strike your circle without second thought; his entire focus is on finding Lucia. You, out of everyone, ought to know what that feels like. So, demon of war, should I truly believe you suddenly wish for harmony? When wrath fuels you?”

Envy’s smile was all teeth.

He wasn’t done stoking his brother’s sin. Not by a long shot.

“If one foe falls, another will rise in their place. Such is the way of the Underworld. And you like it that way. The monotony of peace was exactly why we all fell to begin with, if you’ll recall. You schemed your way to that throne like the rest of us. No one remains defeated or down forever. No one remains at the top for eternity, either.”

The floor in Envy’s private study rumbled with Wrath’s legendary anger. “Is that a threat?”

Envy gave him the indolent look he knew infuriated his brother.

Perhaps he was looking to fight.

“Have you only come here to annoy me with bullshit talks of peace, or is there an actual reason for this visit?”

Wrath looked like he was silently weighing the benefits against the disadvantages of striking Envy, but he eventually leashed himself. Ever the diplomat.

“Lust said the woman you’ve taken an interest in doesn’t succumb to his influence.”

Lust was going to find himself with a dagger to the balls.

“That sounds like Lust’s problem. I haven’t taken an interest in anyone.”

Wrath’s attention sharpened. Envy silently cursed himself. He’d lied. Demons were proficient with omissions and word play, but never outright lying.

Envy would never reveal the lengths he’d gone to to overcome that curse. The pain. The cost. He hadn’t been certain lying would be necessary for the game, but he had planned and searched until he’d found one ancient legend that could make it come true.

He’d die a True Death before he revealed that secret to anyone.

“Lie.” Wrath prowled closer, his sin igniting once more. “How?”

“You don’t honestly expect me to share my secrets. Why bother asking?”

“Do you care for the woman?”

“I am intrigued with her talent,” Envy said truthfully. “You know I covet unique things.”

“Allow me to rephrase, do you care if harm comes to the woman?”

Envy’s pulse raced. Wrath would hear it, ever attuned to the hunt. The area between his shoulder blades burned with the sudden need to release his wings. Wings that he couldn’t summon. Wings he’d lost with the fall of his court.

“You bore me with your drivel. But yes. I would care if harm came to her. The game wants her in play. Therefore, she holds value for me.”

Wrath narrowed his eyes, silent as he assessed Envy.

“Choosing not to answer the question directly is as good as answering it, Aethan.” His brother was exceptionally cunning when he wished to be. “Perhaps it’s time to stop playing, then. She could get hurt.”

Envy couldn’t have stopped the game even if he’d wished to. And Wrath standing there, acting superior, as if Envy had no clue how much danger Camilla was in, made him want to lash out.

“Do not use my true name in that perverse shorthand again. And do not come to my circle and lecture me. My patience only stretches so far.”

Wrath’s expression didn’t shift. He still wore the cold, mocking smile Envy wished to punch off his face, his gold eyes glittering.

“Spoken like a demon in love.”

He turned then, his muscular frame taking up the entire doorway.

“Pride wagered invitations will be sent out by year’s end,” Wrath said. “After today, I’m calling three months.”

Envy knew he was being goaded.

“Invitations for what?”

“Your wedding.”

Something ancient and restless reared itself inside his chest. Envy would sooner drink from the Fatal Chalice before he married anyone, even Camilla. True, he might enjoy her company, might desire her physically, but it would never go beyond that.

He wouldn’t allow it.

“I look forward to collecting my fortune, then.”

Wrath chuckled darkly, broad shoulders shaking.

“Don’t bet against yourself. Or Greed’s coffers will finally be larger than yours.”

Before Envy’s sin could snap out, someone knocked on the door.

Fear had his breath lodged in his throat before Alexei stepped in.

Envy’s attention shot to his second’s hand, to the note he’d been waiting for from House Sloth.

He tore the wax seal open and read. Fucking finally. He’d been granted permission to enter Sloth’s domain.

He glanced up, annoyed that Wrath was still standing there. “Don’t you have a wife to tie up? Why are you still here?”

Envy sensed it a moment before it happened.

Wrath’s dagger flashed, striking into an invisible foe. An Umbra demon formed, slumped and dying at the demon of war’s feet.

“Keep your spies away from Emilia.”

He crouched to wipe his blade on the dead spy’s tunic, then stepped over its body. Before Wrath could leave on his own and stumble across anything he shouldn’t, Alexei escorted him back to the front doors.

Envy folded his arms across his chest. “Report.”

The second Umbra demon materialized, partially.

“The human—Vexley—disappeared shortly after you left that realm. No one has been able to scent a trail.”

Envy gritted his teeth. “And? What about the artist’s mother?”

“No family in Waverly Green. No blood or hair in the house.”

Which meant there was no way to know if she was a shifter.

He supposed he could cut a lock of Camilla’s hair, have it tested by spell. Find out one way or another what she was, if anything. But if that jeopardized the game, counted as interference…

Envy sighed.

“Keep searching.”

APPARENTLY HOURS AFTER he’d arrived at House Sloth, Camilla finally received word that Envy was on the premises. She felt immediately annoyed that he hadn’t bothered to check on her. After bathing quickly, she’d wandered around for the entire day, doing her best to hunt down their next clue. Alone.

Not to mention that the last time she’d seen him, he’d had a dagger sticking out of his chest. Instead of letting her know he was indeed all right, he’d gone straight to a chamber on Fae history.

If Camilla harbored any misconceptions about where his priorities lay, they were dashed now. Clearly his one and only focus was on the mysterious game.

“Despite our introduction, Lo seems very personable. And he is rather handsome,” Camilla said by way of greeting, curious to press Envy’s sin to see how much of a rise she could get.

Envy snorted but didn’t lift his head from the book he was flipping through. His sin had not been invoked. Maybe he didn’t feel for her. The thought rankled.

“You clearly disagree. Why?”

Envy flicked his emerald gaze to her.

“After stabbing me, did my lovely brother happen to explain why he goes by that name?”

She slowly shook her head and his devious grin emerged, alluring dimples and all.

“Because he delights in laying his enemies low. Sloth is as wicked as they come. I’d advise never falling for his personable veneer.”

“Although one ought to be thankful I at least make an effort, right, brother?”

Lo leaned casually against the doorframe, a pair of spectacles hanging from a chain around his neck. He’d discarded his tailcoat and rolled his shirtsleeves up, exposing toned arms and what appeared to be a tattoo of some phrase peeking out.

“My court is searching through every chamber as we speak. If there’s anything out of place, they’ll find it.”