Page 85 of Realm of the Wicked

‘You’re a pig.’ I crossed my arms in front of my body, but it provided little coverage.

‘Now, now. Don’t be cruel.’ He pulled a fake pout, but his gaze simmered with an unspoken annoyance. ‘Clarissa promised me I could play with you, and if you’re mean to me, it’ll only hurt my feelings and then who knows what I’ll do.’

I sneered at him. He stared back. Don’t make a scene. Don’t make a scene. Surely, Damien would forgive this one instance of disobedience.

A slow smile spread across Silas’s face, exposing sharper and sharper teeth. ‘What will it be, princess?’

I balled my hands into fists. I was out of my league here, and he knew it. Damien was right; I needed to at least pretend to play nice until I understood more.

‘I’m sorry,’ I gritted out.

‘What a good girl,’ he crooned. ‘I’ll be sure to tell all my friends at Wrath how sweet you are. You’ll be so popular there. We don’t normally get people with a soul down here; normally, your man takes care of that for us ahead of time.’

He reached for my elbow and on instinct, I recoiled.

‘What is Wrath?’

‘Only the most exclusive place down here. Clarissa requested your presence. You’re lucky, really.’

‘Lucky. Sure.’ You’d better know what you’re doing, Damien. ‘I’m going to guess I don’t have a choice in this little excursion.’

‘Correct.’

I hated his smile.

‘But you do have a choice in how painful it is for you. Good girls get rewarded.’

Gag. On the other hand, rewarded might mean more freedom, which might mean figuring out a way out of here. This time, when Silas reached for my arm, I let him grab me. He pulled me out of my room into a dark hallway, where dark-gray walls lined a mahogany floor. One hall led into the next, all of them lit by flicking candles in rusty sconces. I tried to keep track of the path Silas took, but the halls were disorienting and all blended into one another.

Without Clarissa, Silas was chatty.

‘Why does Clarissa even want me there?’ I tested the waters after five minutes of listening to him rant about someone named Rory. I couldn’t figure out if Rory was a human, a demon, or a pet.

‘Oh, princess, didn’t Damien tell you?’ He tsked, tightening his grip on my elbow. ‘I guess I should’ve expected it from a surface dweller.’

‘Tell me what?’ I prompted, not wanting him to get off track with another story about Rory.

‘Well, Clarissa’s been looking for a way to punish Damien for ages, and imagine her surprise when you fell right into her lap! Obviously, she’s not going to just hide you away. She wants you on display, showing everyone she finally got one up on Damien. Wrath is the perfect place to show you off.’

I glanced down at my short dress. I didn’t want to dwell on what show you off meant in this context. I could imagine. ‘Why does Clarissa hate Damien so much?’

He shrugged. ‘Not sure. Rumor is that they once had a fling, and it ended poorly. You know how these things go.’

No. No, I absolutely didn’t. Clarissa and Damien, together? The need to gag was back. If Damien had once been with Clarissa, what did he see in me?

I didn’t ask any more questions after that, because apparently, I wasn’t prepared for Silas’s brutal honesty. It didn’t matter anyway, because he was leading us toward a massive set of carved black double doors. A red neon sign hung over them, announcing Wrath. Well. Who would’ve thought there would be a bar in Hell?

‘In we go!’ Silas announced, pushing open the door and all but shoving me inside.

I stumbled across the threshold, righting myself before I fell flat on my face. Breathing deeply, I pushed my hair out of my face to take in my first sights of Wrath.

What I saw had me holding back a gasp, because showing my shock would do me absolutely no good. Clarissa wanted me to be off my game. But Wrath was something far beyond anything I could imagine. Tall tables tucked away in dark corners, demons of every sort mingling, some more so than others. Some looked like Damien, human, only more. Some looked like Silas, with dangerous teeth and claws. Some weren’t bothering to hide anything. Full sets of deep maroon wings sprung from broad shoulders, tails snaking along the ground. Damien might have been disgusted when I asked him why he didn’t look like the stereotypical devil, but these demons embraced it.

A couple – one human-looking woman, and a demon with wings but no tail – were tangled in each other, kissing deeply. The demon’s hand disappeared under her dress, and she moaned loudly, not caring who heard. It was so intimate, I had to look away. Next to them, a man who could only be human sat amongst a table of demons, who laughed, clinking their drinks together. His eyes locked onto mine, completely vacant. Whoever he’d been before, he was no longer. He was nothing but a shell, left for their entertainment. Would that be me, once Clarissa had her way? A husk?

Except Clarissa didn’t want to just steal my soul; she wanted to destroy it. Maybe there’d be nothing left of me to even entertain with.

When I finally caught my breath, Silas placed a heavy hand on my shoulder. ‘Welcome to Wrath. Isn’t it incredible?’