REXTON
I STEP THROUGH the gates, already dreading my destination. The large castle looms above me, practically taunting my very existence. I’ve always hated Mammon’s home. It’s gargantuan and gaudy, and it looks too much like my childhood home for comfort.
It’s a long walk to the front entrance, and I take that time to collect my thoughts. Luna is an interesting character, but I can’t figure out whether she was sent here by Silas. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s sent somebody to check in on me, but they don’t usually leave me guessing.
They get to the point, and they do so quickly.
He’s also never sent a woman, let alone an attractive, wealthy one. The Wrath Trio has worked too hard to fix their mistakes and create a safe environment for women. They would never risk sending one into Greed, even for revenge.
Everything about Luna is calculated, though, and it’s obvious she’s from Wrath. Her attempts to hide her mannerisms and accent are largely successful, but anybody searching for them will notice. She speaks like every highborn woman from the capital, and I’d wager that she’s from a notable family.
She might even be titled.
Why would Silas send her so close to my wedding? Amelia has guards watching my every move. My future wife is desperate for a way out of our engagement, and she’s waiting for me to mess up. She won’t hesitate to run to Mammon with any suspicions.
Meeting with Luna this morning was dangerous, but I assumed she was looking to share information with me. She wants an invitation to my wedding instead. I don’t understand.
She better not fuck up my plans.
I should’ve rejected her probing, but I was caught off guard, surprised by her sheer audacity. Luna’s bold, which was admittedly a refreshing change. Wraths aren’t nearly as timid as the Greeds.
I almost forgot how much I enjoy it.Almost.
I’m greeted with guards and shadows as I step through the front doors of the castle. They’re busy, already preparing for the wedding. This is Greed’s first big event in several years, and Mammon is leaving no stone unturned. She’s paranoid, making my job damn near impossible.
It’s hard to keep a pleasant look on my face as I step into the foyer, and my gaze darts to the intricate glass ceiling before shifting to the stiff-looking furniture filling the room. Amelia is standing in the doorway, waiting for me. I hold in a sigh.
“Rexton.” Amelia steps forward, her long dress trailing behind her. Her straight black hair is pulled away from her face, making her sharp, poised features stand out. “Returning from a morning stroll?”
She closes the distance between us, a forced smile spreading across her lips. She’s not pleased with me, but that isn’t anything new. She has always hated me, and she has no problem letting me know.
I’m not particularly fond of her, either.
Neither of us is looking forward to our upcoming marriage, but I don’t have the luxury of letting my dread be known. I should be so terribly thankful that Mammon would even consider me as an option for her daughter. A weak demon like me is sure to tarnish the bloodline, but I’ve proven myself invaluable.
I can thank my many years spent in shadow form. In a kingdom as cutthroat as Wrath, being a shadow is often considered a fate worse than death. My existence wasn’t welcome, and I learned how to become malleable.
It helps that I have a corrupted fate feeding me information. Silas is willing to do whatever it takes to avenge his son, even if it means betraying his mates. I wonder if he’s ever confessed to them what he and I planned.
With his help, I’ve become Mammon’s most cherished informant. I’ve protected her on several occasions, and she’s thanking me with a marriage to one of her daughters. A part of me feels guilty for dragging Amelia into this, but not guilty enough to stop it. Mammon murdered an innocent child in cold blood, and that deserves punishment.
Luca was my favorite of Charlie’s children, and I’ll never forget his lifeless body or how much agony it’s suspected he felt in his final moments. I’m going to ensure Mammon feels an identical pain.
Amelia pulls me into a hug, one hard enough to show her anger. Her lips graze against my ear as she does so, and I resist the urge to shrink away. “Where were you?” she whispers. “I explicitly ordered you to meet me in the great hall directly after breakfast. You missed our meeting with the wedding planner.”
I wrap my arms around the small of her waist. My limbs are tingling, one of the first signs of trouble.
“I was busy,” I say.
“With a whore, I presume.”
“With three, actually.” I release her and step back, putting space between us. “But it seems you have everything handled, which is wonderful. I knew you could do it.”
Amelia scoffs. I can only imagine the activitiesshegot up to this morning, but I know better than to pry. My betrothed has a revolving door of male companions, and she’s made no attempts to keep that part of her life private.
I’m not one to judge, and I’m sure not upset about her activities, but I did expect her to use discretion after our engagement was announced. If anything, she’s done the opposite. I suspect she believes it upsets me.
Amelia spins on her foot and storms away, her heels clicking with every step. I’m not sure where she’s going, but I imagine she’ll be back by dinnertime. Mammon has put Amalia and me under strict orders to spend every evening together, probably in the hopes we’ll find common ground. The order has been in place since our betrothal.
