She already fucking was.

Envy flipped her around, pressing her up against the same tree, yanking down her bodice to finally liberate those glorious breasts. They tumbled free, beautiful and golden in the shadows of the trees.

He deepened their kiss until she moaned, arching against him.

He was going to devour her right on the cursed path, make her forget that anyone else existed on this realm.

And Camilla was all too willing for him to do just that.

Envy fitted himself between her thighs and began a slow, rhythmic grinding of his body against hers, a promise of what was soon to come.

Camilla pressed back, giving as good as she was getting.

He cupped her breast as she bit his lip, rolling her nipple between his fingers until the nub hardened; then his fingers dipped lower, curling around the hem of her dress before he fisted the material, tempted to rip it to shreds.

Camilla made an impatient sound in the back of her throat as he slowly exposed her stockinged thighs, and then the bare flesh above them, where she hadn’t donned anything at all.

His knuckles skimmed the area he wished to be buried in, already damp with her arousal.

Envy wanted to take his time, to fulfill each of her fantasies and make her come until she couldn’t take another ounce of pleasure, but his cock ached.

He could no longer wait. It was sooner than he’d planned, but what they’d just done… they’d gone too far. Now he had to claim her.

Envy didn’t care what her secrets were, who he was or what his goal was, he wanted to shed civility and fuck like animals.

In one preternaturally fast motion, he had Camilla on the ground beneath him, her legs curling around his body, pulling him closer, locking him against her.

As if he’d leave now.

Envy didn’t think about the game or what she’d set into motion, his thoughts were only of her. Their mouths and tongues and teeth clashed, their hands gripping and tugging as if they were battling to be inside each other’s souls.

He began that slow, driving motion again, this time with his trousers against her bare flesh. One little piece of cloth separated him from being fully seated inside her.

“Tell me to stop, Camilla.”

If she didn’t, he would claim her. Right now. Ruin her for all other lovers.

Maybe she’d do the same to him.

His hips ground against her, harder, faster, finding a spot that made her claw him closer, her nails carving half-moon crescents into his skin, marking him, too.

Camilla’s eyes fluttered shut. He pressed that spot again, loving the way she gasped. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, holding him tightly to her.

“Don’t you dare.”

Camilla was unlacing his trousers when he heard it.

A beat later he was on his feet, dagger in hand, scanning the woods.

He’d moved so swiftly Camilla didn’t even call out.

Nothing was there, but he sensed another presence. They’d been reckless.

He’d been reckless. Envy never should have let passion and jealousy cloud his judgment. He knew how dangerous Bloodwood Forest could be. He knew what the Fear Collector had done, and still he’d let desire take over his reason.

Envy held out a hand, keeping his attention locked on the woods, waiting.

“Come along, love. We’ll finish this at House Envy.”

Camilla didn’t reach for him. Didn’t utter a word.

He glanced down.

She was gone.

“Fuck.”

The game had already made its next move.

Where she’d been sprawled and eager a moment before lay only a card, the Immortal Heart facing upward. It was the symbol of the vampire court.

Zarus had been listening and wanted Envy to know.

Well, he certainly knew.

Envy stared at the infamous symbol—an anatomical heart, struck through the center with a skull-headed dagger that dripped blood—his breathing turning slow and even as a killing calm overtook him.

The vampire prince might be undead, but there were still ways to change that.

EVERYTHING HAPPENED SO swiftly, Camilla didn’t sense she was in danger until it was too late.

One moment she’d been on the brink of being swept up in a sea of erotic, unending lust, begging silently to forever be linked to her dark prince.

The next she was tumbling through realms. Her body felt like it was being torn apart, needles pricking and biting like teeth along every inch of her flesh. Her abductor remained a mere shadow until the portal—or whatever magic transported them—violently spit them out.

A large, cold hand shoved her to her knees.

She spun around, furious.

Whatever grit she’d clutched onto died.

Every instinct in her screamed that she should run. It wasn’t the man’s appearance as much as it was whatever she sensed comprised the fibers of him.

Tension thickened the air as they considered each other.

Outwardly, he looked like any other member of court. His clothing was simple but fine. A shirt any lord would wear tucked beneath a dark swallowtail coat. Tawny breeches fit snugly on long, toned legs. Supple leather riding boots rose to his calves.

He was powerfully built, a male made to fight.

His short chestnut hair was tousled like he either couldn’t be bothered to tame it or preferred to look wild and inspire wicked thoughts. His penetrating eyes were framed with a fringe of thick, dark lashes.

It was those arresting eyes—crimson bordering on black—that gave away what he was.

Vampire.

She swallowed thickly.

“It would be unwise to give me trouble.” His voice was gravelly, rough.

A trickle of fear paralyzed Camilla.

He crouched, leveling her with a hard look that promised violence if she didn’t play nicely. Even from this new position, nearly kneeling before her, he exuded power.

“Understand?”

Camilla nodded, her mouth suddenly as dry as the beach they’d landed on.

He looked her over once more, then stood.

“Get up, little lamb. Fix your gown.”

Camilla clutched her bodice and adjusted herself; she’d forgotten that the Prince of Envy had wrested it down in a fit of passion. It felt like hours had passed since she had been in his arms, not minutes. If she could run far enough away…

She glanced around at their surroundings, stomach sinking as her worst fears came to life.

There wasn’t anywhere to run.

Not that she would outrun a vampire. They were no longer in the woods or even close to the frozen tundra that signified the demon prince’s domain. They were on a seemingly deserted beach with black glittering sand and matching water, tendrils of fog drifting along the shore.

A pair of crimson moons hung in the sky, two watchful eyes from hell.

The air was warm, uncomfortably so.

A fact that wasn’t surprising, as vampires didn’t produce body heat.

Lord save her, Camilla was in the vampire realm and the Prince of Envy was nowhere to be seen.

As if reading her mind, the vampire said, “Your lover won’t be joining us. His kind is currently unwelcome on Malice Isle.”

Malice Isle. The island nation home to vampires was aptly named.

The very atmosphere felt threatening, foreboding, like it wanted to sink its teeth into travelers and taste their deepest fears.

To their left a tropical forest—or what had once been a tropical forest but was now thick with rot and death—stretched as far as she could see.

In the distance beyond that a Gothic tower rose high into the clouds, like a demon rising up from the Underworld, surveying its fiery domain.

A bruising shade on the horizon indicated that sunrise was not far off; if she could make it for another few moments, she stood half a chance.

“Move, little lamb.”

“Where?” Camilla asked, stalling.