Chapter 25

ChapterTwenty-Five

Damn the woman. She’d run from him. Again.

And he’d let her. Or rather, his guard had left her and Ivo had gotten the shakedown of his life as Greed screamed at him. Though he knew the other man was just as worried about Varya’s disappearance as he was, Greed couldn’t find it in himself to care that he might be hurting the spirit’s feelings.

Varya was gone, and he had no idea where to find her. At least, until Ivo had said she wanted to go to the Festival of Lights.

If the woman had wanted to go there, why hadn’t she just told him? He’d have brought her. Maybe. He could have been convinced.

Instead, he had to get off his nuckelavee long before he reached the Festival of Lights. The beast would have to travel home on its own, which was dangerous enough, although he knew very few people that would take his mount on in a fight. Still, it was a risk he now had to take because some foolish woman had run off.

Again!

Taking off the bridle, he slid his hand along the leathery hide, patting it firmly. “Go home, now. I can bring her back on my own.”

Even his mount seemed to look at him with disbelief before it wandered off on its own. Clearly, no one believed he could control the wild woman he’d brought home.

Maybe he didn’t believe it either. As he turned toward the crowd of people in the distance, he wondered what he’d gotten himself into. It had taken half the day to even find the location this year, and then a few more hours to ride here. She could be anywhere in that crowd.

Greed took his time getting there, and every flash of blonde hair sent his heart skittering in his chest. Every time it wasn’t her, he felt the anger boiling hotter in his veins. When he got his hands on her, he was going to wring her pretty neck. He’d drag her back by the hair, kicking and screaming, proving himself to be the warlord that everyone remembered him being.

If anyone tried to stop him, he’d remind them all why they feared him. They thought they could just knock him out with that smoke? He’d survived it twice, and he’d kill many more people along the way. They wouldn’t catch him unawares this time.

People flinched away from him, horrified to see their king here when he had never once attended a single festival. Two men’s hands shook when they saw him, the tankards of ale spilling onto the sand. A woman hid her child. Likely rumors already had embellished how he’d eaten a child at the last village he’d been seen in. A couple of young women eyed him with interest, though. And their expressions grounded him.

Breathing in the scent of their greed and lust, he steadied himself. She was here. He couldn’t seem too angry before he met her or word would spread and then she would run.

So he tried to look like he wanted to be here. He squared his shoulders and forced a smile, nodding at people who wandered past him as though he cared that they were comfortable. He ducked underneath the bright streamers of colorful fabric triangles and meandered past the tables full of food and drink. He even eyed the tents with some form of appreciation. He wasn’t all that certain. All he knew was that there were at least a hundred tents in every color, and how the fuck was he going to find her?

He didn’t have to look as hard as he thought. The center of all this madness was a crowd of people holding small metal pans. Dots of paint were on each pan, an individual color for each person. It appeared that people were pairing up, already some couples were seated on the sands while they painted each other.

And there, in the heart of it all, was Varya. Her wildly unbound hair had somehow gotten wilder in her ride here. It floated around her head like a dandelion puff of gold. She had a silver plate in her hand, emerald green paint already smeared on it.

A young man stood in front of her, his own silver plate decorated with a pretty shade of purple. They were talking. Varya’s mouth spread in a soft, easy smile.

That wouldn’t do.

Greed reached for a platter that someone was walking around with, smeared with white paint. The woman holding it smiled up at him, although the expression was a little shaky.

“Shall I get paint for you, my lord?” she asked.

“No need.”

He waved a hand over it and the paint turned to gold. He hadn’t used that particular spell in centuries—gold was far too easy to find these days—and yet, it felt good to use his powers. The woman’s answering gasp almost made him puff up in pride, but he had a job to do.

Treading through the waves of people, he found himself behind the young man. With a palm on his shoulder, he shoved the boy to the side. “Not today, young one.”

The young man stumbled, but then righted himself. “Excuse me—”

Greed stared him down, eyes flashing and anger burning in his stomach. “Yes?”

“My lord.” With a gulp, the young man looked at the ground. “Apologies.”

And then he ran. As everyone should when they saw how angry Greed was.

He turned his attention to the woman who had set this fire in his chest, but she was looking back at him with amusement, not fear. How stupid was she? Varya should tremble at his feet. She should prepare herself to beg for his mercy and then grovel with his cock in her mouth for hours on end. She should...

Varya placed her hand over his heart and he felt all the tension disappear. “You shouldn’t scare people like that,” she said, her voice shaking with amusement. “They’re going to think you’re angry.”

“I am angry,” he snarled, trying to get that emotion to burn in his chest again. “You ran.”

“I didn’t. You saw where I was going and I distinctly remember telling Ivo that the festival was happening today.” She patted his chest as though that settled the argument.

It didn’t.

“You can’t run off into the desert like that, Varya. Perhaps you have forgotten how you arrived at my castle doors, but I have not.” Just the memory of it made him want to put his fist through a wall. Which would be difficult in the middle of the desert.

And then again, all she had to do was smile at him and he couldn’t stay mad. Not when she looked at him like that, as if he’d hung the moon in the sky.

Varya smoothed her hand over his chest, her fingers lingering on the planes of muscle before she sighed. “I remember too. But I also remember how to let those memories go, Greed. Right now, I want to celebrate the lights and the coming of the full moon. Will you do that with me?”

“I have never celebrated with your people before,” he grumbled. “I don’t even know why I’m holding this.”

“Do you not?” she gestured all around them. “We paint ourselves before the gods. Our ancestors did the same to honor those who watch over us and gave us the beauty of our world. The paint connects us with every color on each of us. The sky, the sands, the flowers, and the wind.”

Humans. They were so fanciful.

Greed eyed the paint in his hand, the gold that would look so lovely on her skin, and he thought perhaps he could play along. If only to see what she looked like with his marks all over her.

“Fine,” he relented. “Show me what to do.”

Ach, that smile. It would be his undoing.

She took his hand and brought him to a small open part in the sands, right in the middle of the crowd. Sinking down to the ground with him, she ignored all the stares and whispers that burst into life.

Drums started up somewhere. He hadn’t seen the musicians before on his walk here, but he had noticed very little. And now, he barely focused on the beat as she dipped her fingers into the paint.

“What symbols are you drawing?” he asked.

“Runes,” she replied. “Everyone paints something different. I paint the ones that my mother showed me before she died.”

Her finger glided along his cheek, painting a symbol there and then moving to the opposite cheek. Her touch flared something hot inside him, as always. He wanted to tackle her into the sands and push himself inside her warm heat. Crowd be damned, he wanted to hear those little breathless noises she made as he brought her to the highest peak of pleasure.

Instead, he held himself very still as she glided her touch down his neck to his arms.

“You should have worn less,” she said with a flirty flick of her eyelashes. “I cannot cover you in as much paint as I’d like.”

“You may paint me whenever you wish.”

“And anger the gods?” She tsked. “I think not.”

He’d had enough of this. Greed palmed her thighs and dragged her into his lap. Legs spread wide over his hips, he looped an arm around her waist as she gasped. Her arms fell over his shoulders, the plate hanging limp from her fingers as their lips barely touched. “Fuck the gods,” he whispered against her mouth. “I’m the only god you need to appease.”

She shuddered in his arms, but leaned back for him to stare down the length of her body stretched out on top of him. “You’re supposed to paint me,” she whispered.

Right. He was supposed to do that, wasn’t he?

He had gotten so caught up staring at the woman in his lap that he’d forgotten he was still in a crowd of people. Clearing his throat, he shifted his hips, so he wasn’t pressing quite so hard against the seam of his pants before he reached for the gold platter.

“Right,” he muttered, trying to get his thoughts back to where they needed to go. “Paint.”

What would he paint? He wasn’t a human. But he wasn’t a demon either. No one here knew that.

Eyeing the woman in front of him, he wanted to tell her. He hadn’t ever told anyone, but he wanted to spill out all the information and pour it into her, so she was the only person in existence that knew he wasn’t some demon lord or god that had fallen from the sky.

Swallowing hard, he dipped his fingers into the paint and trailed one line down her jaw. “When I was young, this kingdom looked very different. There was sand, but also jungle. There were humans, but they were few and far between. Small tribes that followed the herds across the entire kingdom as they migrated.”

“I didn’t know you were ever young.”

He chuckled and trailed twin lines down her throat. “I was never born, if that’s what you’re hinting at. I came into this form fully grown. But I was not always like this. Once I was young and weak. Merely a spirit who wandered throughout the kingdom feeding upon whatever taste of greed I could find.”

Her brows wrinkled. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I want someone to know.” His fingers danced over her delicate collarbones, skated over her shoulders, as he highlighted every part of her with gold that he thought delicate and beautiful. “I fed, but I still starved. Until I came to this kingdom, where there were so many greedy people who wanted everything they couldn’t have. And I grew glutted with their greed, larger and more powerful than any other spirit. That’s when I met them.”

“Them?”

“My brothers.” He trailed his fingers over the globes of her breasts, dipping beneath the low fabric for just a single touch. “They, too, had found kingdoms where they could feed and feast. It was then that we discovered we could take these forms and sustain them. That we would be even more powerful with a physical form on the plane where no one wished to have us.”

“So you aren’t gods?” she asked, Varya’s voice so low he almost didn’t hear it. “You’re spirits?”

“One and the same,” he corrected. “Your gods that you worship are spirits as well. I suspect some of them took physical forms like we did. They were more likely spirits of justice or honor. Perhaps a few spirits of creativity or passion, like Morag.”

Varya stiffened in his arms. He dotted a single mark on the tip of her nose to annoy her.

“Morag is a spirit.” It wasn’t a question that Varya muttered. “So that means… Ivo?”

“Also a spirit.” He had to work hard to not grit the words through his teeth. Why was she asking about her guard when his finger was mere inches from her stiffened nipple? “But never in all my years have I felt such greed with a person. I want to devour you, but I also want no one else to ever lay a finger on your pristine skin. I want to take you on adventures and be the only person to feed that ridiculous need of yours to put yourself in danger. I want to destroy everyone who puts a mark on your skin and yet...” He paused, trailing his finger down her long, lean arm. “I want to mark you so everyone knows you are mine.”

Her throat bobbed. “All I ask is that you allow me to do the same to you. I will be no one’s toy, Greed. If you want to own me, then I will also own you.”

He turned his gaze to hers, wondering what she saw in his yellow eyes. “You already own me, Varya. I raced out of my castle after you, taking a precious beast that I left alone in the desert, to wander into what could very easily be another trap. And yet, I do all that because I cannot stay away from you. I cannot get you out of my head.”

And then he saw it. He saw the moment she gave in. Greed felt her hips tilting until she’d pressed her core against him, the heat of her searing through his entire body. Rocking against him, she let her arms dangle over his shoulders and slid ever so close to him. Her lips ghosted over his own.

“I own you?” she whispered.

“You do.”

“That’s fucked up.”

He grinned. “I never said I wanted a healthy relationship, treasure. I want you and all our strange desires. Wear my marks, give me yours in return, and let’s be fucked up together.”

Again, she shuddered in his arms. And he had no idea what she would say to him. He didn’t know if she would agree, but by the gods, he hoped she would.

He’d beg if he had to. If she wanted a demon king on his knees before her, begging for her to give him an ounce of her attention, then he would do so. He wanted her in his life and he didn’t know any other way to get her there other than this.

She didn’t deserve to be anything less than his world. She was... important to him. More than he’d ever felt before, and that was such a strange thing to realize.

“From the moment I first met you,” he whispered, brushing a paint smeared hand through her hair. “You captivated me with your indomitable spirit and your heart that beat only for this kingdom. I am less without you.”

“You don’t even know me.” Varya’s eyes were wide with shock.

“I know you well enough, treasure. And I will know more every day as I wake up with you next to me and treat every word you say as the treasure it is.” He kissed her, lingering only because he knew there were eyes on them. “Stay with me, Varya. Let me treat you like a goddess for the rest of your days.”

They both realized the implication of his words at the same time. He saw the sadness in her eyes and felt a pang of regret in his. She was only human. And he was not.

“Come with me,” she said, drawing him to standing. “Come dance with my people, and I will consider your words.”

Greed could do nothing but follow her siren’s call and those sad blue eyes.