Page 110 of The Demon Court

“She already has.”

“Then she will remain here and learn again what it means to be a foundling,” Minerva spat. “The old ways run deep in that girl’s heart. You will never be able to trust her, Demon.”

Ah, and there was the rub. Perhaps he never would be able to trust her, but damn if he wouldn’t enjoy chasing her for the rest of eternity.

“Perhaps not,” he agreed. “But even a week here, two, a year or more, would not turn her gaze away from me. You underestimate just how connected we are now, Minerva. Your plan has failed. So leave the girl alone and look for another to enact whatever plan you think will work next time. I don’t want to destroy the Tower, but I will do it if I must."

A slow smile spread across her face, and for the first time in his life, Lust felt fear. Oil slick and ill omened, it slithered down his spine as though a snake had wrapped around him and squeezed.

“I would advise you to not get too comfortable with your new pet,” she said. “She is mine, Lust. If I cannot have her, then no one can.”

He did not enjoy fear. He thought it would be interesting to experience a new emotion, but no. It was terrible.

Lust stepped out of her way and gestured for her to return to the Tower. “I will give you a few days with her. That’s all. Then I will come back for what is mine. I do this to prove she was never yours, Minerva. She was just waiting for me.”

That sly grin never shifted from Minerva’s face. “We shall see, Demon.”

And he hated that he watched her go. He hated how his stomach twisted and his heart thundered in his chest, irregular and worried.

Minerva was intelligent. She had more to this plan that he’d expected and even though he knew there were countless experiences for him to draw upon, he couldn’t let go of the thought that he’d missed something. And if he had? Then he was the fool, after all.

Stepping back into the snow, he started away from the Tower toward where he’d told his man to wait in the carriage. They’d return to the nearest town, at least to get out of the cold and fill their bellies before he returned for Selene. Then he would never let her go again.

“Demon!” the hissed whisper came when he was but a few steps from the Tower.

Turning, he looked back to see a woman with long hair, white as snow, and skin that glistened like a black pearl. She waited for him to make eye contact with her before she rushed forward and pressed a letter into his hand. “Don’t tell anyone that you saw me.”

And then she rushed back into the Tower and slammed the door in his face.

Strange.

But when had sorceresses ever made sense?

Bemused, he continued his journey. Perhaps Selene had heard that he was being sent away again and wanted to give him her goodbye. Though he doubted it, the soft thought made his heart twist in his chest. It was stupid to miss her when he’d just gotten out of her bed. But he did.

The letter unfurled in his hand, the wind wrinkling its edges as his eyes scanned the unfamiliar handwriting.

Mother never wanted to let Selene go. You have ruined that plan and she will stop at nothing to get her back. If Selene does not play by her rules, there is a tattoo on the back of her neck. It was placed there to ensure nothing changed and that Mother’s will would always come to life.

It’s a spell, Demon. A nasty spell that will kill her.

Please let her stay here. Let her come back into the fold. We will find another way for her to become a sorceress, like the rest of us. I promise. I will do anything I have to to keep her alive.

Don’t let her die because you had to defy our mother.

It’s her death or your lust.

Anger surged through him. And suddenly he realized why Wrath claimed that he was the most powerful of all their brothers.

In this moment, he could have torn apart the entire kingdom. Bit by bit. Lust would rip it to shreds and listen to all the screams as the people who had denied them both peace to be with each other. He would wrap his claws around that bitch of a High Sorceress’s throat so he could hear her screams. He wanted to destroy her.

Lust wanted Minerva to know what it felt like for this fear to run through her body. Would she not be able to think or breathe, either? He wanted her to know that if she laid a single finger on the woman, he... he...

The thought drew him up short. And though his fingers had turned into claws, ready to tear into whoever dared stand in front of him, he had no idea what to do with these thoughts.

He was lust. That was all he felt.

Until now. Now he felt so much more, and the raw edges of that reality nearly sent him to his knees.

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