Page 7 of The Demon Mark

Ducking through the next wall, he strode into a bleak room. There wasn’t much here at all, just what used to be an old dressing room for the bath house. There was a marble bench on one side that she had made into a bed. A nest of blankets were all piled on top of each other, he assumed, to make it more comfortable rather than lying on cold stone every night.

Something in him twisted as he stared at the paintings on the wall. She’d tried to bring the land above his kingdom into her room. She’d painted an impressive sun and clouds that were so realistic he almost tried to touch one. Grass waved in a wind he couldn’t feel and animals raced across the smooth marble walls. Beyond that, there were people.

So many people that were painted doing menial tasks. Farming, cooking, laughing. Everyone in her paintings was happy, he noticed. Although he didn’t know why she’d be painting people at all.

The oracle had yet to move in his arms. So he sat down on the bench with her cradled to his chest.

A part of him didn’t want to let her go. She was so small, tucked up against him. Every one of her shallow breaths, he mimicked, drawing the air into his own lungs as she did. It felt right to breathe with her.

Dancing his fingers up her side, he tilted his head and marveled at their differences. Envy had lived his entire life underground, so he didn’t even know what color his skin would turn if he saw the sun more. But compared to him, she was white as snow. A marble statue come to live, carved by the most divine of artists.

What a strange creature to find in the middle of a circus.

He moved his hand up the cage of her ribs, expanding and contracting against the pads of his fingers. He skimmed the soft side of her breast, feeling the give of her flesh as he nearly groaned.

She really was beautiful. More than that, he wanted to touch her. He wanted to feel her writhe underneath his fingers and he wanted to hear that raspy voice of hers moan while he brought her to the greatest of heights.

Would she see more of his future if she was coming while she saw it? Did great emotion heighten her power or weaken it?

But then his eyes drifted up to her face, and every part of him bristled. The cut on her face was nasty, although the blood had started to scab. She was still half marble, half gore. He hated that.

No one should have touched her. The thought struck deep into his chest, as though he was the one who bore the knife wound.

Lifting his hand, he brushed some of the sticky blood from her beautiful cheek. Like this, she looked so fragile. Less marble and more glass. A woman who would break if he touched her wrong.

He hoped she was stronger than that. She’d need to be unbreakable once he took her home with him. Envy liked to think he could be gentle, but he wasn’t the best at it. He’d tried before, and every time, his own desires got the best of him. Pretty things didn’t last long when they were in his grasp.

But this one, with her feather light lashes that brushed across her cheeks, he wanted to keep alive.

“I’ll take you back with me,” he murmured, still brushing his fingers over her chilled skin. “You will be treated as a queen, my oracle. Your prophecies will be recorded for centuries to come. But more than that, you will give me all the pleasure and power I have desired for many years.”

Someone new walked into the room, a big man, blustering with anger. He was almost as tall as Envy, had they both been standing. Ham handed fists and calloused knuckles suggested the man had fought for much of his life. But it was the narrowed eyed glare on his sun kissed features that put Envy on edge.

The priestesses hadn’t been a threat. Though they would have fought him—and their numbers might have given them an advantage—they were no real opponent.

This man, with his wild hair and angry gaze, was a genuine threat.

The man stalked over to where Envy sat, though he still left a good amount of room between the two of them. “I’ll thank you to take your hands off my oracle.”

“An oracle cannot be owned.” Envy did not remove his hands from her. If anything, his grip only tightened against her cheek and jaw. “To think that you can own the prophecies of the future is folly.”

“Get your hands off her, or I will cut them off.”

Threats? Already?

He looked up at the man with a blank expression, only now remembering that he wore a mask over his face. Clearly, no one would ever guess that their king was sitting in the changing room of a bath house with a practically nude oracle in his lap. But he quite liked where he was.

“Keeping her to yourself is selfish,” he replied, ignoring the threat. “Perhaps you would be interested in a trade.”

The man let out a low whistle through his teeth, the sound echoing and piercingly loud in this small space.

The shapeshifter walked in as well. This time, the rippling on his body was already sprouting hair. A wolf, it would seem. Or perhaps something larger with sharper teeth. Another man strode in behind him, although this one had his hands in his pockets. With his shaved head and slitted eyes, Envy could only guess he was yet another shapeshifter. Reptilian, if he wasn’t mistaken.

“Such a show for such a small woman,” Envy murmured, looking down at the oracle in his lap. “They called her Lilith out there. Is that her name?”

“I’m only going to give you one more chance to get up and walk out of here,” the man replied. He tossed the wild mane of his hair and glared even harder. “Then things are going to get real difficult for you.”

Envy sighed.

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