Chapter 35

ChapterThirty-Five

Wiping sweat off her brow, Varya let her sword drop toward the ground. She could keep going—she swore she could—but they’d been going at it since this morning and her shoulders were screaming.

It felt better than wallowing in that damned room, though. At least she was out in the training yards with the sun on her back and sweat drenching her clothing. Morag didn’t care about sweat. Neither did anyone else who had gathered to watch them fight.

She’d thought she was quite good at fighting. Varya spent a lot of her life learning how to be scrappy, how to fight when she needed to, and how to convince others to fear her. She knew how to crawl her way out of the dirt, how to take a punch, and how to punch back. All of that was as deeply ingrained in her as breathing.

She’d been so wrong.

Morag fought like a dream. Her entire body was lithe and quiet, moving and looping through stances as though the muscle memory alone guided her. And she was damn hard to pin down. The other woman moved like an eel in her arms and made it almost impossible to hold her.

Varya had managed for only two full seconds before Morag and thrown her clear across the arena and then slapped her hard across the back with their wooden swords.

But even though she should have been angry, or perhaps embarrassed that she’d been bested so thoroughly, Varya could only stare at the other woman in awe. She could learn a lot from a warrior like this. More than any other person had ever taught her.

Clearing her throat, Varya coughed a few more times to clear the dust out of her lungs before reaching out her hand. “Again, tomorrow? Same time?”

“I have guard duties, you know,” Morag said, but the grin on her face revealed she’d be here. “But, I suppose, we do have to entertain all those who couldn’t fight with us if they tried.”

Varya clasped the other woman’s forearm, telling herself not to look too starry-eyed as she met Morag’s grin with one of her own. “I’ll get you in the dirt tomorrow.”

“Unlikely, thief.”

“I’m learning. Every time you throw me, I hope you know I’m going back to the room and practicing the same move. Soon enough, I’ll know everything you plan to do before you even know it.”

Morag tilted her head back and laughed. The strong muscles of her throat worked, and the slight sheen on her skin glistened in the sunlight. A goddess of war, Varya thought, that was who stood in front of her.

“Ah, human.” Morag shook her head, her laughter still bubbling up every now and then. “Your courage is admirable but foolish, isn’t it? We aren’t the same, you and I. I believe you’ve already been told that.”

Of course she had. Ivo had sat her down and told her everything. That they were spirits. Poured into bodies just like Greed. She’d known all of it already, but hearing it from him helped.

The more she understood about him and his sister, the better. The more accepted she felt because they were kind and welcoming and everything that Greed wasn’t.

She’d thought perhaps the problem had been that he was a spirit. He’d made it very clear that he wasn’t like her, or anyone else, for that matter. He and his brothers were something else entirely. Not demons. Not men. Creatures unlike what she’d ever experienced before.

Her sword hit the dirt with frustration as she spun toward the opposite side of the arena. Stomping away from Morag, she tried her best to get out of her head. Again.

“What is it, little human?” Morag asked, her voice more than a little amused. “Have your demons returned so soon?”

“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 take from her, 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.”

And with that, the sister walked away from them with a spring in her step and a jaunty whistle that echoed through the jungle leaves surrounding them.

She stood there, awkwardly, trying to look anywhere but Ivo considering they’d both thrown their own version of punches. She hadn’t meant to threaten the gardener. Not really. Besides, none of her friends would be interested in someone who worked for the castle. Altan certainly would not be leaving his tiny desert town any time soon.

Damn it, she had to let go of her pride. Blowing out a long breath, she rolled her eyes up to the sky and tried her best. “I shouldn’t have said anything about the gardener. I know you...”

“Her name is Bella,” he muttered. “No one calls her by her name, but it’s the most beautiful word I’ve ever heard.”

It was strange, hearing a declaration like that from a man his size. He was massive. Taller than any person she’d ever seen, and yet he had no fear using words that were so soft they rivaled the down of a duckling.

“Ivo,” she whispered, waiting until he looked back at her. “Can’t you see what I want? You talk about Bella like she’s the only person in the world that exists. You tell everyone who will listen about her beauty, grace, talent in the gardens, her kindness, how her smiles make you feel like you’re made of liquid gold. All those words are so lovely and that is what I wish to hear about myself.”

His face paled.

“No,” she muttered, waving her hand at him. “Not like that. I don’t want you to say them to me. I want Greed to say them to me. He’s not a man of words, and he’s said that to me already. But I need to hear those words. I need to hear him say that I’m important or that he even cares!”

The problem was laid out before her, and she hated it. She hated that she was weak enough to need those words. Everyone had a certain way to show the people they loved that they were loved, and Greed was a man of action. It was her own insecurities and weakness that made her need more from him.

It wasn’t fair to Greed, she knew that. She understood that he only knew how to love in certain ways and that she couldn’t expect anything else from him but...

She did.

She wanted more. Needed more. And he couldn’t give her that.

Ivo ran a hand through his dark hair, the locks sticking up in all directions. “I don’t think he can do that for you, Varya. Though I always thought he was quite good at talking to you. I’m on the other side of the door all the time, you know. So I hear more than I should.”

Her face flamed. “That’s not exactly when I need to hear him talk.”

“Ah.” Ivo nodded, his brows furrowed in concentration. “So that’s why you tell him to shut up so often. I’d wondered. I thought women liked it when men told them they were a good girl and to—”

She had never moved so fast. One moment she was standing in front of him, and the next, she’d slapped her hand down over his mouth so hard it must have hurt.

Ivo’s wide-eyed gaze met hers, obviously wondering what had just happened.

“Don’t say that stuff in public,” she hissed. “Private words for private times. If you want to tell Bella that, I’m sure she’ll appreciate it, but people don’t just talk about what should be said only in the bedroom where anyone could overhear them.”

Laughter erupted at her words, coming from behind her at the same moment she felt warmth flood over her entire body. Greed. He was the only one who made her blush from head to toe just by being near.

After the laughter came the sound of clapping. She spun around to see both Greed and Gluttony stride into the arena. They both wore travel clothes, tighter pants than normal and a white billowing shirt. Matching, but oh so different. Where Gluttony was dark and tightly laced, Greed already looked as though he was halfway through taking his clothes off.

Rings glittered on his fingers, a heavy necklace hung around his neck. And she’d never wanted to snap a chain that badly. Just to see what he would do if she ruined another one of his precious gems.

“I’m glad to hear you aren’t entertaining his words,” Greed said, his mouth twisted in that handsome smile. “I’d have to take his tongue if he said any more to you.”

“Greed,” she hissed. “He’s your friend.”

“And you are mine.”

He said the word so simply. As if there was no argument she could utter that would convince him otherwise. She was his. That was all. Nothing else could be added to that statement and it sent her heart racing.

“I suppose I am,” she whispered, releasing Ivo, who straightened.

He ran a hand down his chest, seemed to think better of saying anything else, and then promptly left. Along with Gluttony, who was already asking some asinine question that Varya didn’t care to listen to.

Her eyes were only for the demon standing too far away from her. The man who had sent her entire world upside down, inside out, and all wrong. But all right at the same time.

Perhaps some of her thoughts had shown on her face, because his expression flickered into something like pain before he reached out his hand for her to take. “Come with me, treasure. We have a lot to talk about.”

By all the gods, she couldn’t argue with him. Not like this.

So she slipped her hand into his, and let him lead her into the dark.