Page 105 of The Demon Crown

It was a little different than bringing Ivo and Morag to life. Those had been spirits he fed on his own until they were strong enough to conjure an image that was powerful and strong, just like himself. This was a possession. A little different, but he’d seen Affection and Selene do it. Surely he could replicate that.

Honestly, the adventure spirit likely knew what to do.

Greed reached between them and uncapped the jar. The sickly spirit slithered out of its container, barely able to drag its body over the lip of the glass. And a small spark of worry skittered down his spine. What would happen if he allowed a weak spirit to possess her? Would she need to feed the spirit first? What would that do to the both of them?

He didn’t have time to question this choice, though. The spirit made its way up her arm, gathering itself up as though this was the most arduous battle of its life. When it reached her neck, the exhausted spirit paused, hanging off her collarbone as though it had no more fight left in it.

“What now?” she asked, her eyes flicking back and forth between him and the green mist on the shoulder.

“I thought...” Affection had melted into Selene, but it had been a significantly stronger than this one.

With gentle hands, he cupped the tiny spirit in his palms and drew it closer to Varya’s mouth. He didn’t know where the knowledge came from, perhaps some age old feeling from when he’d been the same as this little one. He remembered what it felt like to be so weak that he could barely move. He remembered lying in a gutter and waiting for his existence to end until someone had walked by after pick pocketing a man.

“Consume it,” he whispered, pouring the spirit toward her mouth as though it were an elixir of immortality.

Because it was. It had to be. For her, he would do anything.

Varya trusted him. She opened her mouth, and the spirit slithered past her lips. Pouring into her body and then disappearing.

They waited. Heartbeats drumming in his ears with every passing second. Maybe he’d been wrong. Maybe this spirit was strong enough to exist inside her without feeding too much, after all.

“What—” Varya’s eyes widened for a moment before they drifted shut.

Greed caught her in his arms, a low grumble of fear rocking through him. “I’ll take care of you, love,” he said, swinging her up into his arms. “You’ll be fine, Varya. I promise.”

ChapterThirty-Seven

Her awareness came in fits. Mostly she was lost in the darkness of a deep, dreamless sleep that should have been terrifying.Was this death, she found herself wondering a few times. Was this what it felt like to slip into that bitter darkness that never allowed her to wake?

Hissing out a breath, she sat straight up in bed. Clinging to the sheets, she held them against her chest as she tried to get her bearings. Where was she?

She couldn’t quite remember what was happening. She’d been... in the jungle? No, there were no jungles in this kingdom. Only sand. Dust. The overheated sun that made her sweat, just like she was doing now. Dripping with all the emotion that she couldn’t shake off her body because this was wrong.Shewas wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

“Shh.” A voice. The same voice that had soothed her time and time again. “Stop fighting it, treasure.”

Stop fighting what? The fever? The heat that billowed off her body and slicked her skin with so much sweat she couldn’t think or breathe through it? She had to fight it. It would kill her. Didn’t he know fevers were deadly to humans?

She needed to get out of this bed. A bath. Water would cool her off, and maybe then she could think or remember what had happened.

Cool hands skimmed down her shoulders, sliding over her bare skin with a little too much ease. “It’s all right,” he said, his voice deep and low and oh so soothing. “You are well. It is the spirit inside you, remember? You are giving it a chance at life, Varya, and it will make you immortal in return.”

“I didn’t want to do this,” she whispered. “I don’t want to be immortal.”

“Ach, my love.” She felt his lips against her shoulder now, pressing so delicately that it made tears prick in her eyes. “It’s not something you can take back.”

His love.

She’d always known she was his love, hadn’t she? She had just wanted to hear it from his lips and then everything would be all right. Well, she’d heard it now. And everything would be all right. He’d watch over her and make sure that nothing happened, no matter how hard it was to keep her eyes open.

She drifted again. Back into that dreamless place that frightened her as much as it was a comfort. At least here she didn’t have to think about anything. She just floated in the darkness. Nothing and everything all at once.

The next time she woke, she felt a bit more like herself. Varya could remember the choice she’d made, how she had ended up in this familiar bed, covered in silken sheets that clung to her sticky body. Stretching out her arm, she searched for him.

And then she remembered that he’d never been too far. How many times had she woken in a panic? The illness that spread through her body had consumed her mind, as well as heating her from the very core. He’d explained with so much patience countless times, telling her that she was all right, he was with her, he wouldn’t let any harm come to her.

By the gods, he’d been amazing. And she’d been... less than amazing.

Sitting up, her long hair a tangle around her face, she held the blankets against her chest and tried to still the rolling nausea from the movement. She wasn’t entirely herself, it seemed, but this was significantly better than before.

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