Page 109 of Soul Forge

“Spirits, you’re worse than Vel today,” Elda scowled. He shot her a black glare. “What?” she challenged. “At least he speaks to me. You’ve been ignoring me since this morning.”

“I’m not ignoring you.”

“Oh? Then why won’t you look at me?” Sypher’s brow furrowed into a glower. “What have I done?” she demanded.Silence echoed back at her. “How am I supposed to make up for whatever I did if you won’t tell me what it is?”

“It’s not you,” he sighed, the ridge in his brow relaxing a little. “You’ve done nothing wrong. My mood is Vel’s fault.”

“It is? Why?”

“I’d rather not say.”

Elda folded her arms across her chest. “I’d rather you did.”

“You won’t like it.”

“Try me.” He arched an eyebrow right back at her, those burning eyes darkening a fraction. She knew then that Vel was watching her, too.

“Fine. Your new armour is... tight. And red. Two of his favourite things.” The admission was stilted, but he held her stare, daring her to blush. Elda mulled over her response for a moment, composing herself before speaking. She hoped the screaming in her brain didn’t register on her face.

“Funny. Julian said red wasyourfavourite colour.”

Her pulse thudded erratically, but her cheeks stayed mercifully cool. She knew the wide, hardened belt was snug around her waist, and the red tunic she wore to match it accentuated her chest more than her previous armour, but she hadn’t expected it to cause trouble.

“Redismy favourite colour. The difference is that Idon’t want to tear your clothes off.” Elda lost the battle; a blush hot enough to melt steel spread right to the tips of her pointed ears. She prayed he couldn’t see the way her heart pounded in her throat. “I’ve been avoiding looking at you because every time I do, Vel acts up.” Sypher scowled. “Hestillwon’t shut up.”

She swallowed, irritation winning out over some of her embarrassment. Vel hadn’t spoken to her since the night in Grimgarde when he’d stayed with her to make sure the thrall from the vampire bite passed without doing her harm, though she’d felt him watching her sometimes through Sypher’s eyes. Itwas strange, like a physical touch on her skin. She’d tried and failed to ignore the shiver it sent down her spine each time.

And now he was goading Sypher because she dared to wear armour she liked? Armour that she’d chosen herself, without anyone else to tell her what was appropriate or chastise her for choosing an ostentatious colour? The thought made her blood start to boil.

“You know he’s just doing it to annoy you.” She scowled. “If he meant it, he’d come out and say whatever he’s thinking directly to me.”

Sypher’s eyes widened, his shoulders tensing. “Please don’t tempt him.”

“I’m not tempting him.”

“It sounds like you are.”

She was tired of it – tired of the threat everyone said Vel posed. He might have hated being the evil soul, the one everyone was afraid of, but he certainly used it to his advantage when it suited him, and it was beginning to grate on Elda. She squared her shoulders, her glare daring the demon to make good on his promise of violence.

“I’m pointing out that if hereallywanted to do anything about it, he would. Instead, he’s just trying to rub you up the wrong way. That’s childish if you ask me.” Her words were bladed, the last sentence a clear insult.Let him come out and face me, she thought to herself.

Stupid girl, the voice of doubt whispered.

“Fuck,” Sypher muttered, and the red left his eyes. Dark veins spread beneath his paling skin, his teeth sharpening in a second. The demon smiled, an apex predator stalking across the room until his face was an inch from hers.

She stood her ground, refusing to give an inch even when he invaded her space. His scent of vetiver and leather was maddening. The pulse of power that seemed to roll from him inwaves left a metallic taste on her tongue again, and her mind flashed to the corridor, the blood on her knuckles, the softest brush of his lips against hers.

Like he could guess where her thoughts had gone, his smile turned crooked. He drew closer still, his nose almost touching hers, and reached out to stroke a strand of blonde hair resting on her shoulder, running it through his gloved fingers.

“You have three seconds to apologise to me,” he told her, his voice sliding over her skin like silk. It was low and smooth, the hiss adding an edge that set her mind spinning. She was sure this creature, thisdemon, would be the death of her.

But she wasn’t there to play his games. They were in Cenet to get to the mountain. They were in the palace to gain Falmyr’s favour. She needed Sypher to communicate with her in more than just grunts and scowls, so she swallowed her nerves, shoving down that static charge that rose up inside her whenever he was near. A scowl turned down the corners of her mouth, the princess unwilling to play his game.

“You want me to apologise for wearing armour? Not likely.” She lifted her chin, effecting her mother’s perfect posture, projecting confidence despite the quaking in her knees. It was frightening to stand up to such a powerful, volatile creature, but she wouldn’t be cowed by him, or any man, ever again. “You shouldn’t act like a sexually frustrated beast, Vel. I wear what I wear. If you can’t contain yourself, that’s on you. Stop bothering Sypher with it or–”

“Orwhat, Varro?” he purred, his nose skimming her throat until his lips were at her ear, his breath tickling her skin. “What will you do? Will you tell me off? Pout at me?”

She balled her fists, resisting the urge to reach out and touch him with every ounce of restraint she could muster. “I’ll stab you,” she warned.

---