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“I was under the impression all demons could detect information in blood.”

“That’s precisely why some were growing curious about her. She’d assign a guard to test any blood disputes during skirmishes. An odd amount of werewolf blood kept tainting the scenes.”

Which would certainly enrage any werewolves whose blood had been taken, giving possible credence to Greed’s suspicion of them being responsible for the attack. “Did anyone ever mention this to Greed?”

“His highness punished anyone who brought up Vesta in any negative light. Everything I’ve heard has all been the result of court gossip.”

I inadvertently slid down the Duke of Devon’s lap as he adjusted himself again, immediately feeling what he’d been hiding. His arousal. I quickly moved away from it, but not before a low growl sounded from across the table. Wrath looked close to launching himself at the duke, every muscle in his body appeared strained, and his stubborn will was probably the only thing keeping him in check. Goddess above he was incredible. Thanks to the heady combination of greed and lust mixing with Wrath’s sinful allure, I wanted him to lay me down on the gaming table, spread my legs, and own me right here and now.

My king swallowed hard, his gaze darkening, and I realized he sensedmyarousal. At first, I wasn’t certain if he could tell the difference between who had turned me on—it certainly wasn’t the duke. I only desired my favorite sin, but with the amount of anger radiating off him, I realized he’d misjudged. It seemed our performance was very close to finally causing a scene. It was time to gather any other information I could before Wrath lost control.

“Was anything else unusual about Vesta before her death?” I asked. “How are her family members taking it?”

“No… no family.” The Duke of Devon’s breathing turned erratic when my hands skimmed along the front of my top. “Vesta wasn’t originally from this circle. Prince Greed kept that a secret that only he and Vesta were supposed to know, but word travels in court. For the right price. Vesta wasn’t her given name, according to gossips.”

Interesting.“Do you know what her name was?”

“No. She never spoke of it.”

“And she was alone at court?”

The duke flicked his tongue over his lips. “Vesta had dalliances over the years, nothing that took her away from her duty. Some believed Greed wanted to make her his consort, but he’s always denied that and so has she.”

“Did they ever”—I ran my fingertips along my outer thighs—“have relations?”

Wrath’s hands flexed. And the sudden thought of him pleasuring himself while watching me do the same made me forget this was supposed to be a scheme. All I wanted was him. And greed took over. The Duke of Devon began stroking my outer arms, and I wondered if Lust had sent him a little encouragement or if it was simply greed driving him to participate in my show.

“Vesta typically preferred the company of females. Though she was known to sleep with the occasional male if she desired him.”

“Have you heard anything else that would be interesting?”

“I’d rather not think of anything else at the moment, Lady Emilia.” The duke leaned over my shoulder, his attention locked on my fingers as they traveled under my skirt and I—

The temperature plummeted. Startled cries sounded from the stage. I glanced over in time to see what had happened. Ice shot across the stage, and gyrating couples slipped but didn’t fall. We were getting very close to creating a scene now, but it still wasn’t enough to make an impression on this court. Wrath needed to lose control. Embrace the devil he was.

I pushed myself up from the duke’s lap and perched against the gaming table, my back to Wrath as I slowly kicked one leg up and over to the other, crossing my legs primly and effectively drawing Devon’s hungry stare. My wineglass rattled then cracked, spilling wine over the table.

The Duke of Devon didn’t notice. His greedy attention had finally been captured in its entirety. He undid the stays on his trousers and yanked himself free, then stroked his length as the remaining players at our table turned to him, indulging in his sin. My attention remained fixed on his, though I was truly focused on the massive presence behind us.

A low rumble rolled through the gaming hall, not disturbing enough to stop the gambling or the greed-fueled tableaus, but enough to have drinks splashing onto the card tables. I sent a silent prayer to the goddess, hoping Wrath would act soon. I’d already heard more than enough from Devon. The duke stood and stroked himself harder, groaning as if he was getting close to his release. Lords and ladies at our table hungrily leaned in, feeding into his desire to be watched.

“Lady Emilia,” Devon groaned. “Touch your—”

“Enough.”

Wrath’s voice was barely more than a whisper, yet the hair along my arms stood on end. Power pulsed in the air around us like a storm was about to hit. That was the only warning anyone received. And then it happened; a thunderous crack rent the air, silencing the drumbeats. The duke standing before me froze, a look of confusion quickly turning to fear as he dropped his cock and jumped back, narrowly missing a chunk of ceiling that crashed before him. Bits of plaster rained down, falling in a circle around me, protecting me from the impending chaos.

I drew my attention up—lines spiderwebbed across the ceiling, the cracks growing until it crumbled. Wood splintered, crystal chandeliers rattled, the stage started caving in on itself as if the ground was swallowing it whole. Demons shouted and abandoned their sex shows as they rushed for safety. I sat in the center of my impenetrable ring, watching as gaming table after gaming table was suddenly coated in ice, heavy and thick enough to break and shatter the ornate wood.

“Blood and bones.” Our game had worked. Maybe too well.

A table nearby disintegrated. Another quickly following. All around the gaming hall, furniture exploded into dust or was coated in ice that was so heavy it broke all it touched into shards. My table remained undamaged, the one speck of calm in the storm of wrath.

Wrath’s fury was demolishing the entire room, piece by piece. My breath came out in white clouds, the temperature now dangerously below freezing. It was as if we’d crossed into a world made entirely of ice; it was cruel and harsh and lethal. Just like the look on my prince’s face when he turned that wrathful gaze on the duke. I shuddered. And Devon promptly pissed himself.

Then Wrath was truly there, tossing me over his shoulder like a barbarian, his large hand covering my backside as he carried me from the destroyed chamber.

He was practically vibrating from the pressure of holding back his power. I couldn’t imagine what else he could do, what else he could destroy, if this was only a taste of his magic.