Chapter Eight
CASSIA
THAT MAN WON’T leave my mind.
He possessed so little power. He was weak, and I can’t fathom what he does or who he is to have access to the royal family. Greeds don’t value physical strength as much as Wraths, but we’re all demons. Power is everything to demons. It doesn’t matter what kingdom you were raised in.
I force myself to take a calming breath before I burn through the black sludge dulling my power. I have more than I need, but it tastes like shit and knocks me on my ass. I want to limit how often I dose myself.
I drag my fingers through my hair, tugging on the strands as I pace the length of my room—all seven steps of it.
It’s small, so much smaller than the bedrooms I’m familiar with.
I thought I was downsizing and living a life of normalcy when I rented my apartment in Wrath, but I now realize the error in my thinking.
This room is small, barely large enough to fit a twin-sized bed, a chest of drawers, and a small desk.
I’m in the inn that the strange man recommended.
I originally wasn’t going to stay here, mainly because I wanted to put distance between me and him, but it’s the only place that overlooks Mammon’s estate.
That’s an incredible advantage, and I’m desperate enough to take it. I need to keep a close eye on her.
I sigh, walking the two steps to the desk and plopping into the uncomfortable wooden chair. There’s no cushion, which generally wouldn’t bother me. This weakened state of mine experiences back pain, though. It’s infuriating.
The desk is directly below a window, and I flick aside the sheer, white curtains to clear up my view of the royal estate. It’s so big, and it makes my childhood home look like a shack.
I rub my lips together as I search for any glaring weaknesses. None immediately stands out, which is beyond infuriating.
I’m sure Mammon has spent the past twenty years securing her home, probably in anticipation of Aziel’s revenge. She stole Luca from us, ordered her minions to rip him apart like an animal, and dumped his body on our fucking property for me to find.
She deserves just as gruesome a death.
I’ve spent a lot of time fantasizing about the way I wish to kill her. I intend to drag it out. I want her to scream and beg, and I want to watch her face as she finally succumbs to death. I want to see it all.
There’s no movement in or around the estate, excluding the occasional guard change. I don’t want to risk writing down my observations, but I mentally catalog their shifts. I need to memorize their routine if I plan to exploit it.
Several hours pass before I rise from the uncomfortable chair, my aching stomach driving me to move.
A small part of me wants to explore the city, but I’m afraid I might enjoy it.
I refuse to enjoy or appreciate anything about Greed.
These people bow to the queen who ripped apart my family, and I hate them for it. I should burn them.
I’m not sure how I’d go about burning down an entire kingdom, but I’m resourceful. I’ve also got the power of the Wrath kingdom behind me.
Still, I can’t ignore my need for food.
The market is bustling with energy, demons rushing to complete their evening errands. The clothing style here is different, and I don’t like it. Everybody is dressed in formal attire, treating their clothing and jewelry as a way to showcase their wealth. They’re living up to their kingdom’s name.
The people in Wrath are nothing like this. We don’t care about such trivial things. Inside Wrath, titles and wealth don’t mean much. Everything is about power, whether you have it or not. You can be born into a wealthy, titled family, but if you’re weak, you’re nothing.
Aziel’s best general was born to a whore and a foot soldier, and nobody cares. Raum is powerful, and that’s enough to earn him respect.
I should’ve known things would be different here.
I drag my fingers through my hair, tugging the strands in a nervous gesture I’ve recently picked up.
It’s hard not to stare at the castle. It’s all I want to do, but I’m sure the guards are trained to notice people who show too much interest. All it takes is one guard to realize I don’t belong here.
I wonder if the man from earlier can get me inside. It’s a dangerous thought, one I probably shouldn’t indulge.
But he was attracted to me. I know I entranced him, and it’s obvious he was interested in talking with me. I’m not against using that to my benefit. If I can build a connection with him, maybe he’ll spill some helpful information.
Maybe he’ll bring me inside.
I’m willing to lie, cheat, steal, and fuck my way into Mammon’s life.
The familiar tingling of wrath bubbles up inside me, but the sludge does an excellent job of keeping it muted.
I’ll never admit this out loud, but I kind of like it.
It’s nice not to be constantly overcome with emotion.
I feel good without my anger, which is wrong.
I am Wrath. I should hate being without it.
The smell of roasting meat fills my nose as I head to the restaurant below the inn. I haven’t had a proper meal in days, and I’m paying dearly for it. My hands are beginning to shake, and my head is fuzzy.
I’m already weak, and I don’t need to make things harder for myself.
My thoughts continue to travel to the man as I step inside the restaurant. The place isn’t a restaurant as much as it is a café, but it has outdoor seating that directly overlooks the front gates of the royal estate. I take a seat outside, pleased with the view. This is ideal.
By the time I’ve finished eating and returned to my room, I’ve decided to seek the man out. It’s risky, but I believe in myself. He’s a good lead, and he practically fell into my lap. It would be foolish not to see where it goes, and I’ll forever regret it if I don’t try.
He could be my in.