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“She set me free.” The vampire shrugged. “Now she belongs to me until I say she doesn’t. Death agreed, or I wouldn’t be standing here, close to all I’d wanted anyway.”

Vexley paced in front of him, ticking off reasons like Envy gave any sort of shit.

Black spots gathered at the edge of his vision, growing in density. Envy was worse off than he let on. Much worse. It was getting hard for him to maintain enough power to sustain his court, keep the ward up around his circle, and not lose consciousness.

If Envy didn’t stay alert, it would be almost impossible for him to hold himself together much longer.

Still upholding his court, and regrowing his heart, he couldn’t risk using any more power to heal himself. Eventually his wounds would repair themselves on their own, but that could take hours in his weakened state.

He was lucky if he had minutes.

“First, I was playing for immortality,” Vexley said, drawing Envy back to his monologue. “I now have that.”

And an unquenchable thirst for blood, thus preventing the idiot from returning to Waverly Green until he got that minor little inconvenience under control.

“I will be even more legendary in Ironwood Kingdom now.”

Envy doubted that the satire sheets would indulge Vexley’s antics when he started slaying half the nobility. Maybe they’d all get lucky and someone would behead him.

Envy’s eyes drifted shut. He leaned his head against the stone column near the edge of the ancient site, his breathing labored. He was certain his skull had cracked at some point, if the pounding, monstrous pain was any indication. It was a testament to his will and power that he hadn’t fallen yet.

“Next, I want Camilla’s talent,” Vexley said. “We’ll make enough money to do whatever we please for as long as we please. I assume she’s not human, after her display of magic. Which means we can lie, cheat, and steal for eternity.”

“Except that Camilla said no.”

“Once I take her as my wife, it won’t matter much what she wants. I know what’s best.”

Envy’s entire body screamed in protest, but he slowly got to his feet, bracing himself against the column. Half dead or not, he was going to break free of these chains, and then he was going to snap the vampire’s neck.

Envy would be sent to the True Death before he’d let Vexley touch her.

“Women are not possessions. She belongs to herself, you arrogant halfwit.”

Vexley’s fist connected with his jaw, the crack echoing in the cathedral-like chamber.

Envy’s head smashed into the stone, the fracture in his skull knocking him out for a beat before he regained his footing. He went down to his knees, the bones cracking against marble.

Vexley towered over him, fangs gleaming in the strange half-light that filtered in from who knew where.

“There are no rules about teaming up with other players. Did you know that?”

Envy’s vision teetered between blurry and spinning.

He should have killed the mortal back in Waverly Green when he had the chance. His instincts about rotten souls were never wrong. Vexley had been a foul man and was a worse vampire. No one ought to suffer this fool for eternity.

“Arrogant demon fuck.” The vampire jabbed him twice in the gut, the air whooshing out as Envy doubled over. He was going to be sick. “You should have focused on eliminating your competition. Instead, you assumed they’d just fail.”

Envy hadn’t thought that at all. He’d decided that moving forward to solve his clues and riddles as quickly as possible was the best tactic.

He didn’t respond. And only partly because he had nothing to say. The pain was beginning to overwhelm his senses. Soon, he’d pass out.

His eyes slitted open, barely allowing him to make out the shadow creeping along the far wall, getting closer. He didn’t know whether it was really there or he was imagining it. Couldn’t tell if the glint of silver rising was a blade or a beautiful, violent dream.

Didn’t know whether Vexley sensed or saw it too. If he did, the vampire didn’t let on, leading Envy to believe that the shadowy figure wasn’t there.

Envy’s head jerked forward, then back, his fight to remain alert slipping. Vexley chuckled darkly, enjoying every moment of pain Envy suffered.

The magic in the chains sizzled, the fire going bone-deep.

A huff of pain escaped him, and the vampire closed in.

“Perhaps we’ll play a new game too.” Vexley crouched before him, crimson eyes sparkling. “The ‘drain you dry’ game.” He leaned forward, as if to whisper a delicious secret. “The rules are simple. I drain you dry. You slowly revive. Then we repeat for eternity. How long do you think you’ll last before madness creeps in?”

He yanked Envy’s arm out of its socket, the pain a hot sear that lashed down his spine, wrenching another groan from him.

“One, two… five hundred years?” Vexley asked, tugging Envy’s arm up to his mouth. “I’m willing to wager if you are.”

His fangs pierced Envy’s wrist, the venom causing an extra jolt of pain.

Darkness rippled behind Envy’s eyes. He could feel the venom colliding painfully with the ichor in his veins. He blinked once, twice, and in between Vexley was dead.

What?

Envy tried to open his eyes again. Vexley’s head had rolled next to Envy’s foot. Or had he fallen over? Envy’s cheek was pressed to the marble, the cool stone slick with blood.

Envy stared unblinking at the severed head. It looked back with the same dull expression, the same lack of life.

“Get up.”

The voice was sweet. Even if the command was less than appreciated.

Envy’s eyes closed. He wanted only to sleep, to dream of that voice.

“Envy.”

“Ah,” he said, eyes still closed. “A dream. A lovely, wonderful dream.”

Hands were on him now, soft, gentle. Searching. She hissed as if his wounds had hurt her, too. Then she rattled the chains.

“No. Don’t.” He attempted to pull them out of reach, the movement too much. “They’ll burn you, too.”

Featherlight fingers brushed across his brow, soothing again.

“Leviaethan.” The sweet voice held a twinge of panic. “You must get up.”

Throne of the Fallen - img_8
FIFTY-SEVEN

CAMILLA GLANCED AROUND the underground chamber, her pulse pounding a frantic beat. She’d raced here the second Abyssus’s ward had disappeared but was still too late.

Envy was severely injured. He should have started healing, and she wasn’t sure why he hadn’t but suspected it had to do with his dwindling power.

He hadn’t admitted so out loud, but she’d seen his court. Knew things were grim. And he would ruin himself to save his demons. Was ruining himself.

“How can I break these chains?” she asked, gently pressing a hand to his forehead.

His skin was cold, clammy. She suddenly wanted to drag him into her arms and away from this place.

“We need to hurry,” she said. “Please. Help me.”

His eyes fluttered but didn’t open.

Vexley must haven been torturing him for however long she’d been trapped in the abyss. And even someone immortal couldn’t withstand days or weeks of being beaten without healing. The magical chains were a nasty trick, ones she suspected were Abyssus’s doing. The constant pulse of pain seeping through them into Envy’s skin was clearly wearing him down.

How Lord Vexley had gotten involved she neither knew nor cared—she’d thought it was just a vision when she’d seen him attack Envy in Abyssus’s tunnel. But he must have really been here, in this place, beating the prince. It was one of the hardest things she’d ever done, but Camilla had waited in the shadows until Vexley had been overcome by blood lust, needing him to be distracted. Then she’d struck hard and fast.

Camilla squeezed her eyes shut, forcing the image of beheading Vexley from her mind.

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