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"Thank you," I managed, making my way toward the door. "Goodnight."

"Juniper," Lust's voice stopped me. "The offer stands. When you're ready to fully embrace your power...and us." His grin was equal parts wicked and sincere. "I do have certain advantages in that department."

A pillow flew from Pride's direction directly to Lust's head.

Various responses followed me as I slipped out, each Sin acknowledging my departure in their own way. My mind was still reeling as I walked the ornate hallway toward my room.

“I will show you to your room,” G offered, standing. “Your room is this way.”

I followed without a word. Quiet steps, shoulders tense. I kept glancing at the paintings, the furniture, the walls, like I was in a dream.

Upstairs, we turned down a hall and he opened the second door on the left, into a central suite. I stopped short at the sight of the room: a four-poster bed, heavy velvet curtains, centuries of indulgence layered in every inch. I walked slowly into the room, brushing my fingers across the velvet, not quite sure any of it was real.

“It’s too much,” I murmured.

“Everything here is,” G said. “That’s the point. Why be a centuries old vampire if you couldn’t be...what did they say now? Extra?”

I grinned twitched at the corner of my mouth as I peered out the window, which gave a magnificent view of the gardens. G lingered a moment longer, watching me.

“Don’t touch the gargoyle in the hall. It bites,” he said gruffly, before leaving and shutting the door behind him.

Inside, I slumped against the door, exhaling slowly. Too much had happened today. Learning I was apparently a primordial force of divine wrath with six fated mates, killing my murderer ... Just another Tuesday in my new life.

Chapter

Twenty-Six

LUST

“Hey, back down on Juniper–er, Wrath. She’s been through a lot.”

I didn’t flinch. Pride’s voice was always colder in the dark. He stepped onto the balcony beside me, arms folded neatly, jaw tight.

“No one pressures Wrath to do anything,” I argued back. “She’s not athingto own. Not yours either.”

His eyes flicked to me, and for a moment, the weight of centuries pressed between us.

“You were flirting before you knew what she was,” he accused.

“I flirt with everyone,” I fired back.

“But you care about her,” he needled.

I snorted. That wasn’t a question. We all did. Now that she was one of us, and well before we knew if we were all honest with ourselves.

“I’m not in the mood for posturing,” he said without looking up.

“Then this should be fun,” I replied, dropping into the armchair across from him. “We need to talk about her.”

He turned a page with the kind of deliberate control that made me want to slap the book out of his hands. “You mean Wrath.”

“I mean Juniper.”

Pride’s gaze flicked up. Sharp. Cold. But underneath it—I could see the strain. The tension coiled tight between his shoulders. He was fraying, and we both knew why.

“She’s not a prize to be split,” he said flatly.

“No,” I agreed. “But she’s not yours either.”