Page 12 of The Demon Mark

There it was.

A flick of her eyes and the slightest twitch of her hands. She was pointing at the opposite end of the bath house, far away from where he had seen her rooms last night. Not that he could barge in there without all the circus trying to attack him.

And still, her master had taken the precaution of moving her. Just in case.

Smart move, if Envy wasn’t capable of finding anyone he wanted in this kingdom. Besides, he could read people better than most. The fire eater, for example, had fallen into his ploy so easily. He almost questioned how much control their master had over his people.

Moving through the crowd, he made sure his mask was settled over his features one last time before ducking through the wall at the first opportunity that someone wasn’t looking.

This room was very different from the others. At first, all he noticed was the smell of damp hay and the strange musk of animals he didn’t think should be in his kingdom. Then his gaze took in all the myriad of creatures that were somehow housed within these walls. Birds that radiated light from their feathers. Cats that looked like they were blinking in and out of existence as they walked. A dog made entirely of shadows, but its ears pricked straight up the moment he looked at it. This was more than just a circus, it seemed. It was a zoo.

Stepping deeper into the room, he let his eyes wander to see the woman made of marble and all her lovely features. She stood in the back of the room, her back to him and a bag in her grip. She had to carry it with both arms, comically leaning back as though it was quite heavy to hold.

And in front of her was a horse that he’d only seen in Greed’s kingdom. A leathery creature with sharp teeth, it barely looked like a horse and more like a monster from a child’s nightmare. And yet, she held that bag underneath its mouth, bracing herself too far back—enough that he worried for the state of her spine—to make sure that the creature had an easier time eating.

He leaned against one of the stalls, crossing his arms as he watched her. Low murmurs filed the room, a soothing sound that he wasn’t sure had any real meaning other than making sure the creature was calm while it ate.

She wasn’t in her performance clothing, something he was grateful for. If she had been in that gauzy white fabric, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to control himself. Instead, she was much more real in brown pants and a white shirt that was open tantalizingly low over her breasts. She’d tied all that lovely near white hair back in a braid that swayed down her back. So pretty. So innocent.

So unaware that he was standing right behind her, watching every single move. His gaze caught the tiny flexing of muscles in her arms. The way her neck braced as the nuckelavee bucked its head and nearly knocked her over. Every time she moved, it was like she called out to something inside him. Something that wanted him to bite that long neck, to see what would happen if he left bruises on her skin that only he could see.

Bruises that she might also like.

One of those glowing birds pecked at Orphe, and she spread her wings wide in an angry squawk that echoed through the strange stable. Lilith flinched at the sound, which told him that she was used to the noises in here. She knew Orphe’s sound wasn’t the same as what should be in that stable.

“Who—” She turned toward him, and he watched as all the color in her cheeks drained. She went even paler than she had been before, and he hadn’t thought that was possible.

She took a single deep breath, her chest rising and falling before she was suddenly falling. Swaying just slightly toward the nuckelavee that bared its sharp teeth and he could already see the beast intended to bite her.

Lunging forward, he used a little of his power as well to make sure he got to her in time. The feed bag fell onto the floor and splattered its meaty contents everywhere, the nuckelavee shrieking in protest, but he had her in his arms.

One of her hands came up to press against his chest, and he could see the breath catch in her throat as she stared up at him.

His fingers slotted around her tiny waist so naturally. He bent her back, taking all of her weight with ease as he stared into her shocked gaze and grinned.

“Got you,” he said with that shit-eating grin on his face.

She didn’t seem to know what to say. Lilith seemed frozen with that shocked expression, her hand still flexed on his chest, and all he wanted was to reel her in even closer. He wanted to press her tighter against his skin, maybe kiss down the same track where that woman had torn into her lovely face. Just to ensure himself that it had actually knit back together the way she deserved.

Not a single scar should mar her perfect, milky skin.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” she finally whispered. And oh, that voice. It was so different from when she spoke as the oracle.

What he had heard so far was the deep tones of a hundred women all warped together. The oracles always had an intimidating voice, one that was born of power and deep magic that saw through every single person they came in contact with. In contrast, Lilith’s actual voice was the light birdsong on the first day of spring. Joyous and bright, it filled some hollow in him that he hadn’t realized was empty and aching.

“I’m not supposed to be here, no,” he repeated, shaking his head and trying to plaster a sad expression on his face. “But I couldn’t stay away.”

“Why?”

“Your master has you captured here, does he not? He wouldn’t sell you to me, so I wanted to see if I could convince you to come away with me instead.” For some reason, there was truth in these words.

He wanted her to choose to come with him, and that was strange on its own. He hadn’t ever cared before.

Perhaps it was because she’d so clearly chosen her master over him in their last interaction. He wanted her to choose him. Just to hear the words from those lovely pink lips.

Her eyes darted between his, and he was so startled by how light blue they were. Pretty. Almost white on their own, let alone with the creature inside her who saw the future.

“No,” she whispered, but then repeated it again as she started to struggle. “Let go of me. No! My answer will always be no.”

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