Chapter Eleven
REXTON
I STEP THROUGH the gates, already dreading my destination. The large castle looms above me, practically taunting my very existence. I’ve always hated Mammon’s home. It’s gargantuan and gaudy, and it looks too much like my childhood home for comfort.
It’s a long walk to the front entrance, and I take that time to collect my thoughts. Luna is an interesting character, but I can’t figure out whether she was sent here by Silas. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s sent somebody to check in on me, but they don’t usually leave me guessing.
They get to the point, and they do so quickly.
He’s also never sent a woman, let alone an attractive, wealthy one. The Wrath Trio has worked too hard to fix their mistakes and create a safe environment for women. They would never risk sending one into Greed, even for revenge.
Everything about Luna is calculated, though, and it’s obvious she’s from Wrath. Her attempts to hide her mannerisms and accent are largely successful, but anybody searching for them will notice. She speaks like every highborn woman from the capital, and I’d wager that she’s from a notable family.
She might even be titled.
Why would Silas send her so close to my wedding? Amelia has guards watching my every move. My future wife is desperate for a way out of our engagement, and she’s waiting for me to mess up. She won’t hesitate to run to Mammon with any suspicions.
Meeting with Luna this morning was dangerous, but I assumed she was looking to share information with me. She wants an invitation to my wedding instead. I don’t understand.
She better not fuck up my plans.
I should’ve rejected her probing, but I was caught off guard, surprised by her sheer audacity. Luna’s bold, which was admittedly a refreshing change. Wraths aren’t nearly as timid as the Greeds.
I almost forgot how much I enjoy it. Almost.
I’m greeted with guards and shadows as I step through the front doors of the castle. They’re busy, already preparing for the wedding. This is Greed’s first big event in several years, and Mammon is leaving no stone unturned. She’s paranoid, making my job damn near impossible.
It’s hard to keep a pleasant look on my face as I step into the foyer, and my gaze darts to the intricate glass ceiling before shifting to the stiff-looking furniture filling the room. Amelia is standing in the doorway, waiting for me. I hold in a sigh.
“Rexton.” Amelia steps forward, her long dress trailing behind her. Her straight black hair is pulled away from her face, making her sharp, poised features stand out. “Returning from a morning stroll?”
She closes the distance between us, a forced smile spreading across her lips. She’s not pleased with me, but that isn’t anything new. She has always hated me, and she has no problem letting me know.
I’m not particularly fond of her, either.
Neither of us is looking forward to our upcoming marriage, but I don’t have the luxury of letting my dread be known.
I should be so terribly thankful that Mammon would even consider me as an option for her daughter.
A weak demon like me is sure to tarnish the bloodline, but I’ve proven myself invaluable.
I can thank my many years spent in shadow form. In a kingdom as cutthroat as Wrath, being a shadow is often considered a fate worse than death. My existence wasn’t welcome, and I learned how to become malleable.
It helps that I have a corrupted fate feeding me information. Silas is willing to do whatever it takes to avenge his son, even if it means betraying his mates. I wonder if he’s ever confessed to them what he and I planned.
With his help, I’ve become Mammon’s most cherished informant.
I’ve protected her on several occasions, and she’s thanking me with a marriage to one of her daughters.
A part of me feels guilty for dragging Amelia into this, but not guilty enough to stop it.
Mammon murdered an innocent child in cold blood, and that deserves punishment.
Luca was my favorite of Charlie’s children, and I’ll never forget his lifeless body or how much agony it’s suspected he felt in his final moments. I’m going to ensure Mammon feels an identical pain.
Amelia pulls me into a hug, one hard enough to show her anger.
Her lips graze against my ear as she does so, and I resist the urge to shrink away.
“Where were you?” she whispers. “I explicitly ordered you to meet me in the great hall directly after breakfast. You missed our meeting with the wedding planner.”
I wrap my arms around the small of her waist. My limbs are tingling, one of the first signs of trouble.
“I was busy,” I say.
“With a whore, I presume.”
“With three, actually.” I release her and step back, putting space between us. “But it seems you have everything handled, which is wonderful. I knew you could do it.”
Amelia scoffs. I can only imagine the activities she got up to this morning, but I know better than to pry. My betrothed has a revolving door of male companions, and she’s made no attempts to keep that part of her life private.
I’m not one to judge, and I’m sure not upset about her activities, but I did expect her to use discretion after our engagement was announced. If anything, she’s done the opposite. I suspect she believes it upsets me.
Amelia spins on her foot and storms away, her heels clicking with every step.
I’m not sure where she’s going, but I imagine she’ll be back by dinnertime.
Mammon has put Amalia and me under strict orders to spend every evening together, probably in the hopes we’ll find common ground.
The order has been in place since our betrothal.
It’s been the longest seven years of my life.
I hoped to be married within the year of the announcement, but Amelia’s crafty in her excuses. I couldn’t be more relieved that she’s finally run out of them. Either that or Mammon has decided to stop accepting them. Either way, I’m not complaining.
Mammon never removes the rings that protect her. They create an impenetrable shield around her, preventing any attacks. Not even Silas knows of a being powerful enough to create them, nor does he know how to circumvent them. I can’t lay a finger on Mammon as long as she has her rings on.
I’ve never seen anything like it, and she began wearing the rings almost immediately after Luca’s death. She knew the Wrath Trio would want revenge, and she prepared for it.
Her family can touch her, though. I’ve seen them do it several times. Her youngest children used to barrel into her without hesitation, and she greets her older ones with polite embraces.
This marriage is my best chance to get close without activating the magic in the jewelry. I’ll be family, if only by marriage, but I hope it’s enough. It has to be. It’s our only lead.
I shake out my arms, the tingling distracting. My power is returning, and I avoid eye contact with anybody I fear might try to engage in conversation as I head toward my bedroom. I miss my tiny apartment at the other end of the market, but Mammon insists I reside here.
Shadows shuffle out of the way as I walk through the halls. I recognize a few of them from the short time I pretended to work here, but they haven’t recognized me. I wasn’t here for long, and I only came to watch over Charlie.
I was terrified those here would recognize me during my first few visits as Mammon’s informant, but it’s been years and not one person has looked twice at me.
My steps quicken as I shove open my bedroom door, and I slap the door shut behind me.
I have a busy day ahead of me, and I wasted precious time talking to Luna.
She gave me almost nothing useful, other than confirming my suspicion that she’s indeed a highborn Wrath.
I don’t know much more about her now than I did after our short run-in yesterday.
What are the odds Silas didn’t send her? I’m reasonably sure he did, but I can’t come right out and inquire on the off chance I’m wrong. I need to speak to her again, but it will draw too much attention. I’m not sure I can risk it.
I ensure my bedroom door is locked before pulling up the floorboards underneath my bed. Before entering Greed, Silas sent me into the pits of Wrath. I was freshly out of my shadow form, and I needed strength. I needed power, and the pits are the best place to secure it.
It’s a miracle I didn’t die in the years I spent there, but it was successful.
The glass container I’m searching for is wrapped in cloth, and I can’t help but frown as I unwrap it. I’m running low, but I can’t risk another shipment this close to the wedding. It’s too risky.
If Mammon discovers I drink a tonic to dull my power, she won’t hesitate to kill me. My several years of false loyalty will crumble, and this all would have been for nothing. I’m not going to let that happen.
The back of my throat tightens as I unscrew the lid, my body already rejecting the thick liquid. I haven’t felt the full extent of my power in several years, and I’ve forgotten what it feels like. I didn’t have long to enjoy it.
I snuck into Greed almost immediately after my time in the pits. The strength I gained felt incredible, but this shitty tonic dulls it. I force myself to swallow a mouthful. It physically hurts, and I sink to the ground with a pained groan. Soon. Soon, I can return home and put this behind me.