“You were granted a blood retribution for the murder of your commander,” I said, my voice cold. “A murder that never occurred. Therefore, you are owed nothing. Put your dagger away. Now.”
Greed’s attention whipped between me and Wrath. “Vesta is dead. You saw her remains.”
“Vesta is pack,” I said. “You made a bargain with her family because you coveted an alliance with the wolves. You wanted her magic. Her power. Your greed got in the way of seeing how unhappy she was. How much she longed to reunite with her family.”
I remembered the young wolf in the Well of Memory, the terror of being ripped from her family as a cub. The howls, the fear—it had been a true nightmare. Then there was way the wolf pup had sent a flicker of soothing energy to her papa, which made me think of the unfamiliar werewolf in the Shifting Isles, the one who’d brought my clothing before Vittoria removed my spell-lock. That wolf had altered emotions, too. Had soothed me when I was most afraid.
“Tell me everything you learned.” Wrath nodded in encouragement, and I launched into the sordid tale, laying all the clues out there for Greed and his brothers.
It took some time to piece it all together, but the man whose face I couldn’t see in the Well of Memory had sounded familiar, and after I’d ruminated over the memory in my mind, I placed his voice—Domenico’s father. The young boy in the crib had been Domenico, Vesta’s half brother. After that, everything made more sense than Vesta’s “murder” ever did.
While initially searching in Sicily for my sister’s murderer, I found Domenico Senior in Greed’s gaming den, intoxicated and gambling. That felt like a lifetime ago, but I could easily recall the pain in his eyes. His gambling seemed to be more about punishment than pleasure.
His sadness couldn’t have simply been because his son shifted for the first time. But if Domenico Junior’s shifting brought up memories of his firstborn, Marcella, then his descent into drinking and gambling made sense. Domenico Senior had been punishing himself for the pup he’d gambled away. He never forgave himself, and he’d sought out Greed’s gambling den, probably in the hopes of seeing her. Or maybe stealing her back. But Greed had kept her busy as his commander, had kept her far away from the Shifting Isles and her pack.
Until my sister arrived, wanting an alliance with him and the wolves.
I’d wager anything that the body Greed found in his House that contained blood similar to Vesta’s had been Domenico Senior. He was dead due to “pack business,” just as Domenico had stated—freeing his daughter. They must have been attacked in their attempted escape, and sacrifice was an action any parent would take for their child.
“I don’t know what else transpired between Greed and Domenico’s pack,” I said, “but I suspect there’s much more to the story. But somehow, when Vesta and Domenico were in those initial meetings for the alliance Vittoria sought, they recognized each other.”
Wrath stepped up beside me, his focus hard on the werewolf. “Is this true, alpha?”
“It is.” Domenico looked ready to tear out everyone’s throat. “And it’s our business.”
I looked at my sister. “Please. Tell Marcella it’s all right to show herself.”
Vittoria’s attention moved to Domenico, and she gave him a tight nod. He winked in and out of existence, reappearing with another wolf. Vesta. Marcella. She was tall and lithe, but there was a deadly sort of look in her eyes that had been missing the night I’d had my spell-lock removed. There was a threat to her safety here, and she looked ready to battle if it came to it.
Standing beside Domenico, it was impossible to deny they were related. Marcella’s attention darted around the small gathering before landing on Greed. “One day, you’ll pay for what you did to my family.”
The Prince of Greed glared at his commander. “I gave you a home. A title. A position of power. You had no right to make a fool of me.”
“You kidnapped me. Do not confuse the matter by justifying anything that came after.” She looked to Vittoria. “With respect, I’d like to leave, my lady.”
Vittoria cocked her head, raising her hand as Greed stepped forward. “I wouldn’t do that, your highness. Marcella has made her choice. You will respect it.”
I moved to stand beside my twin and Marcella. “As there was no murder, I request that the blood retribution against Vittoria be deemed null and void.”
“Very well.” Wrath gave his brother a disgusted look. “In light of this information, Vittoria Nicoletta is no longer an enemy of the Seven Circles. No blood retribution is in effect. And if anyone”—his attention was only on Greed—“anyone, decides to attack her, or the wolves, or Marcella, if any act of vengeance is brought about, they will be personally dealt with by me. Now, if all the extraneous bullshit is over, I’d like to crown my queen.”
Greed’s hand tightened on the dagger he didn’t put away but had lowered. There was a tense beat that passed that had me holding my breath. Finally, he shoved his blade back into its sheath. “Very well.”
I released a quiet breath, thankful we wouldn’t have to fight. Though the dark glimmer of rage burning in Greed’s eyes made me wonder if this was truly over. Or if he was simply standing down for the moment, already scheming his next move.
Vittoria flashed Greed a taunting smile before sidling up beside Envy. Both princes quietly seethed but didn’t cause a scene. Thank the Divine above, we might get through this coronation without any bloodshed. Marcella quickly said her thanks to us, then she and Domenico left for the Shadow Realm, proving my theory about her being unable to travel there alone correct. A moment later Domenico returned to stand beside my twin.
With that finally settled, Wrath and I moved to the dais and faced each other.
My husband removed the crown from his head and held it up, showing it to the small crowd gathered behind us. “As a symbol of our shared rule, I offer my crown to my queen.”
With a show of power that made me want to kiss him senseless, Wrath broke the crown in half using nothing but his bare hands. Goddess above he was alluring.
His mouth curved for a fraction of a second before he held the broken crown to me, nodding encouragement as my fingers closed over the shattered gold.
“With these two halves, we combine our strength. Unifying our hearts, souls, and power for the betterment of our realm.” Wrath placed his half of the crown on his head. “Emilia, goddess of fury, coruler of House Vengeance, kneel, my love.”
With my gaze locked onto his, I slowly went to my knees, not bothering to hide my smile as I recalled the last time I’d been in this position. The power I’d felt then, the control.
Wrath must have recalled the same thing, the cool royal mask slipped. He raked his attention over me, allowing the Sin Corridor to bolster his desire. I noted the slight bulge in his trousers a second before someone wolf-whistled in the crowd.