Kingdom of the Wicked

A woman with a little power was terrifying to some.

My twin. My best friend. Gone. We’d never drink or laugh or plan our future. She’d never mock Nonna’s superstitions or jump out from the shadows again. We’d never fight or make up. She’d never push me to be bolder, or tell me to grab my dreams by the throat. I didn’t know who to be without her. How to go on.

s terrifying to some.
I curle

Did I ever tell you the scent of blood drives me into a near frenzy, witch? Your kind believes we crave the taste of it, but princes of Hell don’t usually drink blood. It’s power we’re intoxicated by. The more I allow someone

but I knew enough of man to believe that anyone was capable of anything at any time

She didn’t. Would you like to fetch us some sacramental wine and delve into my lineage?” Wrath flashed a look that bordered on predatory. “I wouldn’t mind getting to know you better, either. Especially if you’re such a good friend of my Emilia’s.”

If I wasn’t convinced opening my mouth would bring on the vomit I was barely suppressing, I’d have laughed over the colorful litany. I couldn’t exactly remember his name at the moment, but I recalled he wasn’t normally prone to such outbursts. For some reason, the situation struck me as funny when it was anything but.

A solid thirty seconds of blessed silence passed before he poked me in the ribs. I cracked an eye. “Do that again, and I’ll slap you with a containment spell.”

I’d almost forgotten how much I wanted him

He was coming for me. My king. My damnation. I don’t know how I knew, but I did