Page 101 of The Demon Crown

“He’s your demon too, you know.”

“Him? Nah. He’s no demon to me. But he certainly haunts your steps if it takes battle to get him out of your mind. It’s been a week, thief. How long are you going to torture yourself?”

“As long as it takes,” Varya muttered as she ducked underneath the wooden guard rail.

“As long as it takes for what?” Morag was laughing again, that mocking tone trailing along behind her. “Until one of you snaps? Until you discover that, without a doubt, you cannot live without him? Or perhaps it will be when you greet death again. You two are old friends now, aren’t you?”

A shadow loomed in front of her, dark and too large to be anyone but her guard. The only person who rivaled Ivo in size was Greed himself, and she’d know him anywhere. The sensation of him danced over her skin every time he was inside the castle. She knew where he was. Always. And yes, it was a torment to know that he was right there and she could have him if she only reached out and grabbed him.

“Enough, sister.” Ivo handed over a rag for the sweat on her face. “Humans feel more deeply than you or I.”

Morag leaned against the railing, watching as Varya cleaned herself up. “I’m sure she likes to think that. She’s all bark though, and no bite. If she didn’t want him, she’d have left by now.”

“I promised to stay.” Varya covered her face with the cloth, slowly breathing in and out so she didn’t challenge the woman to another fight. “I will not go back on my word.”

“And why not? Humans do all the time.”

“Because I am nothing if I do not stand by my word.”

“That sounds ridiculous.” The sound of crunching footsteps approached, so Morag must have jumped the fence. Strong hands gripped hers, forcing the cloth to lower, so she had to look Morag in the eyes. But that gaze had softened, ever so slightly. More so than normal, at least. “If you want him, claim him. He is yours for the taking.”

Was that the problem, though? He wasn’t hers to take. Greed wanted to takefromher, and that was it. He wanted her to submit, to be his, to be all right with his faults and not call him out on them.

Or maybe she was just... making it all up in her head. Maybe she couldn’t change him because he didn’t want to change. Maybe he would look at her one day and see an old woman. Therefore it was all a waste of time, anyway. She just wanted everything to work out on its own and instead, it felt like she had to fight tooth and nail to get anywhere at all.

Sighing, she pulled out of Morag’s grip and shook the damp towel at her. “If it was that easy, don’t you think I’d have already done that?”

“I think if it was that easy, you wouldn’t even notice.” Morag crossed her arms over her chest. “What is so wrong with Greed?”

“Everything!” Her shout carried across the arena and everyone who had been standing around scattered.

They raced away from the conversation they weren’t supposed to hear. No one dared insult Greed himself. No one even dared overhear another insulting him.

Just their actions made her angry. Uncontrollably angry.

She flung her arms wide, gesturing at them as they all ran. “That! That’s what I’m talking about. The servants won’t even listen to someone speak ill of him, let alone hold him accountable for his actions. He’s an ass, Morag. A selfish ass who only thinks of himself and what he wants and how he can keep what he wants because he can’t fucking share.”

“He thinks of you.” Ivo leaned against the fence next to his sister, both of them watching her with all too knowing eyes. “He thinks of you every day and every night. You know you’re the first thing he asks me about every morning? He has an entire kingdom to run, advisors who are all trying to stab him in the back, quite literally for some. And the first thing he wants to hear is how you are doing. The last thing he wants to hear? What you did during the day. All the things he missed.”

Her chest hurt. Right over her heart that was supposed to avoid all these feelings and emotions and soft sounding words. Rubbing her chest, she shook her head. “He wants to collect me. That’s what he wants.”

“So what?” Ivo shrugged. “He worships everything that is his. And don’t you want to collect him as well?”

“I don’t collect people.”

“So the idea of someone else touching him, lying in the same bed, commanding his attention as much as you do, is fine?” Ivo lifted a brow. “If you don’t mind sharing him, I’m certain there are plenty of women willing to take your place. They’d flock to this castle as they always have done. I just have to let them know when.”

That rage boiled over. She could feel it flushing through her cheeks, across her chest. It made her want to hit something. Not because he was hers. It couldn’t be that. But because she was... was...

“Damn it,” she muttered, glaring at Ivo, who looked all too proud of himself. “That isn’t fair, and you know it.”

“Is it not?”

“I can play dirty too, you know.” She gestured between the two of them. “I’m the one who helped you with your little redheaded friend, remember? You be careful, Ivo, or I’ll invite my friends and tell them about the pretty little gardener who doesn’t have a single attachment in this castle.”

The smug expression fell from his face, replaced with a scowl that would have seared the flesh from her bones if he had any magic to put with it.

Morag rolled her eyes. “The two of you are ridiculous. Jealousy has no place in either of your positions. Ivo, she’s absolutely obsessed with you. The poor thing has been waiting for you to make a move for nigh on a year now, so would you grow a pair and just kiss the girl? Varya, you’re a selfish little brat as well, so stop calling the kettle black when you’re sitting on the same stove. Greed adores you. Probably loves you, even. He’s waiting for you to forgive him and once you do, then all of us can go back to normal.”

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