Page 22 of The Demon Mark

“Do not attack my servants,” he said, his voice deep and low. “They are here for your protection, and I will send them to you when I cannot come to you myself. They are an extension of me. An attack against them is an attack against me. And I think I’ve made it perfectly clear what will happen if you attack me.”

She stared at him with her jaw slightly open, unsure of what she wanted to say to him. This was... wrong. He was so wrong and evil and nothing like she had thought he would be.

“Use your words,” he snarled.

“I understand.”

“If you try to kill yourself, I will just bring you back. Death holds no safety for you.”

And with that, he disappeared. Leaving her alone again in an icy pool of water and her thoughts that threatened to drown her more than the pool did.

9

He didn’t enjoy her fear. Envy wanted her to be worshiping at his feet, or at the very least, allowing him to indulge himself in her body and power. What he did not understand was her willingness to die.

There was something deeply troubling about that. She’d threatened to drown herself, then kill herself in much more complicated and detailed ways. And he didn’t know how to prevent such a thing from happening.

He’d lied when he said he could bring her back from death. Even he wasn’t so gifted as to subvert the end. He just didn’t know what the end actually looked like. For humans or himself.

Leaning back in the overly stuffed and well loved chair that he sat in, he pinched his lower lip and stared into the fire. This was the only room in his castle that wasn’t entirely carved out of stone.

The warm wooden floors were remnants of a time when all of his people had lived above the surface. There had been trees larger than he could wrap his arms around, trees that grew fast and tall and strong. He still remembered the sound of the wind rustling through the leaves above his head and the giant dragonflies that had coasted through the dappled sunlight.

In those times, his kingdom had prospered. They had lived well and the people who hadn’t liked him had easily hidden in the trees.

Until the end. He stared into the fire, remembering the flames that had consumed his entire kingdom. Back then, he’d only stolen a small amount of magic. A majority of what he had cast was druidic, and all that green magic had forced him to hear the trees scream.

The green things of his kingdom had wailed for days on end. Then, it all filtered down into a quiet moaning as they died slowly and painfully. It took a long time for their lives to end. Their roots went deep through his kingdom. Even now he had found some embedded in the rock itself. They were powerful beings killed to punish Envy, yet they ended up punishing the entire kingdom in their death. Their souls became the blood thirsty shadow creatures that haunted the realm above.

After that, he’d forgotten how to respect the humans. He’d never once thought that they were capable of so much harm, and yet, he had been proven wrong in the worst of ways. It was why he still consumed them. Why he hunted them.

The humans were incapable of seeing beyond themselves. Even this little oracle, who had seemed to be so different from the others, did not value life itself.

She’d rather die than live in a luxury that she hadn’t chosen for herself, and that thought made him want to burn her to the ground.

Perhaps humans and demons weren’t so different after all.

The sound of wings interrupted his thoughts, and Orphe glided through the window of a portal he always left open for her. She settled on a perch next to the fire, her usual spot when he was in this room. Even she appeared to brood as she stared into the flame.

The firelight reflected off her glossy feathers. He’d always appreciated how lovely she was, even after battle. Blood looked so pretty speckled across the obsidian coloring of her body.

“She is unhappy,” Orphe said, her croak filling the room with a rasping anger.

“I know.”

“She will not eat.”

“She’ll eat when she’s hungry.” At least, he hoped. If he had to force feed her, then he would. He’d pry that pretty mouth open and pour broth down her gullet if that’s what it took to keep her alive.

Orphe turned her gaze to him, her eyes a little wide. “You are keeping her alive for... what reason?”

He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. It was the question of the century, and he wasn’t certain the reasoning for it himself. When he’d taken her, he knew that he wanted her power. There was no other reason to keep one such as her. He didn’t like the woman.

She was an angry harpy who scolded him at every chance she got, not to mention she threatened him that she would take her own life, which meant she was threatening to take away his newest obsession. It was ridiculous. If death had her, then he didn’t. Then he was jealous of death itself.

He couldn’t battle death.

If she died, then she won. Her power would disappear, waiting for another babe to be born who had the proclivities to become an oracle. He didn’t get the power or the woman who wielded it. There was no way for him to win.

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