Chapter 3

3

W hat a show that was.

Envy wasn't sure he'd been that entertained for a while. The woman was a true oracle, that much he knew. Even though the victim of her prophecies had screamed out that she was a witch, he knew real power when he felt it. Every hair on his body stood up the moment that mist permeated the room.

Like lightning, it zinged across his body every time it touched him. He could feel it trying to wriggle underneath his skin. To sink into his lungs and give her a hook to see beyond what he was now and into what he would be.

Oracles were uncomfortable to be around, especially ones like this. Her power was so strong, even a mortal could feel that it was real. He knew the moment her power touched him that he was going to consume it. Beautiful woman or not, he'd long ago forgotten how to feel guilty for his need.

"Take her power for your own?" Orphe asked, her wings rising and falling with excitement.

"Of course I will."

He intended to consume her entirely. But first, he had to get her away from so many prying eyes. For all that he did in his kingdom and all the lives he took, so far, they had not rebelled against him. Envy wanted to keep it that way.

Her hand was still on his ankle, a smear of blood left so prettily against his skin. The woman had really cut the oracle's face terribly. The sight of something so violent ruined all that beautiful marble skin.

Standing, he scooped her up in his arms. She hardly weighed as much as the dense pillows he'd been propped against. Her limp body was unwieldy though, and it took him a few tosses to get her situated in his arms. Even then, all he could think about was the banquet of a form that was now so close to his mouth.

He wanted to lean down and taste the water that pooled in the hollow between her breasts. He wanted to sip from that shimmering liquid in her naval, and by all the gods in his kingdom, he wanted to lick his way up her body until he could suck one of those pert little nipples into his mouth. Like a rosebud, it was right there. So close to his lips that every exhale must make them pearl even tighter.

The fierce reaction was startling. He hadn't reacted like this to a woman in a very long time. Perhaps that should have been concerning. But he had her in his arms now and was there really any reason to be concerned? He could walk out of this bathhouse with her and no one would stop him. Or if they tried, they wouldn't get very far with that attempt.

"Thank you," a priestess said as she approached him. Her eyes were downcast on the floor, but he could see the strength flexing in her muscles. This was a strong woman, and she wasn't about to let him do anything with the oracle in his arms. "I will take her from here."

"Is the oracle all right?" someone else shouted.

"She's not dead, is she?" Another asked.

Then a few of the men stood up, their expressions one of hesitation along with determination.

Orphe squawked on his shoulder, and he knew what the sound meant. The priestesses weren't the only ones who were willing to fight for this oracle. Shockingly, even this made him envious.

What was it about this woman that made everyone want her? Even him?

He settled all the rage in his body, easing the demon in his chest by clutching her a little tighter to his chest. He had her. No one else was going to take her from him.

"Move," he growled, his low tones enough to send the priestess skittering away from him.

The second woman who tried to stop him was repelled by a zing of magic he sent in her direction. The violet orb wasn't much power. Just enough to sparkle over her skin and make her frantically rub it off. At least now they knew how dangerous he was, though. A man who could cast magic without a word wasn't one to be trifled with.

As he made his way through the crowd, he scanned his eyes in every direction. There had to be a back room. The oracle hadn't actually come out of the water like she'd been lying in the depths, just waiting for them. She wasn't a sea creature.

So there had to be something...

"There," Orphe said in his ear.

Envy turned to look in the direction she was looking, and he could see it. A glimmer in the stones of the wall. A faint wrongness that suggested there wasn't a wall there at all.

Perfection.

He walked straight through the wall and heard the priestesses move to stand in front of it as the crowd of people rioted.

"Where is he taking her? What is he doing with the oracle?"

If only they knew he was going to devour her magic for himself, they really would have pushed through the wall of women protecting her. They would have shrieked in anger and tried to get her back. But they would have failed.

The back rooms of the bath house had been turned into a nightmare of a circus show. The moment he walked through, he was greeted with a riot of color. Fabric covered every single wall, tapestries and banners and personal items hanging from them as though the performers in this crew had been here for a very long time.

The woman who had breathed fire was already back here, huddled in the corner of the room and staring at him with distrustful eyes. The shapeshifter appeared through another wall, his body already bloating with a shift. Perhaps he would turn into a bull and try to charge Envy. That would be an interesting turn of events.

But he had the woman in his arms, and none of them would take the risk that their attack might result in her death.

He lifted one hand near her hip and waved at the two of them. "Where does she go?"

The shapeshifter was huffing out of his mouth and had already twisted into some inhuman shape, so he couldn't reply. But the fire breathing woman pointed at another wall. "The master keeps her in there."

"My thanks."

As an afterthought, he nodded for Orphe to take flight. The spirit would go to get them payment for their loyalty to their king, even if they didn't know who he was in this moment.

Envy paid those who worked with him. It was one of the few reasons his people were reluctant to challenge him.

Ducking through the next wall, he strode into a bleak room. There wasn't much here at all, just what used to be an old dressing room for the bath house. There was a marble bench on one side that she had made into a bed. A nest of blankets were all piled on top of each other, he assumed, to make it more comfortable rather than lying on cold stone every night.

Something in him twisted as he stared at the paintings on the wall. She'd tried to bring the land above his kingdom into her room. She'd painted an impressive sun and clouds that were so realistic he almost tried to touch one. Grass waved in a wind he couldn't feel and animals raced across the smooth marble walls. Beyond that, there were people.

So many people that were painted doing menial tasks. Farming, cooking, laughing. Everyone in her paintings was happy, he noticed. Although he didn't know why she'd be painting people at all.

The oracle had yet to move in his arms. So he sat down on the bench with her cradled to his chest.

A part of him didn't want to let her go. She was so small, tucked up against him. Every one of her shallow breaths, he mimicked, drawing the air into his own lungs as she did. It felt right to breathe with her.

Dancing his fingers up her side, he tilted his head and marveled at their differences. Envy had lived his entire life underground, so he didn't even know what color his skin would turn if he saw the sun more. But compared to him, she was white as snow. A marble statue come to live, carved by the most divine of artists.

What a strange creature to find in the middle of a circus.

He moved his hand up the cage of her ribs, expanding and contracting against the pads of his fingers. He skimmed the soft side of her breast, feeling the give of her flesh as he nearly groaned.

She really was beautiful. More than that, he wanted to touch her. He wanted to feel her writhe underneath his fingers and he wanted to hear that raspy voice of hers moan while he brought her to the greatest of heights.

Would she see more of his future if she was coming while she saw it? Did great emotion heighten her power or weaken it?

But then his eyes drifted up to her face, and every part of him bristled. The cut on her face was nasty, although the blood had started to scab. She was still half marble, half gore. He hated that.

No one should have touched her. The thought struck deep into his chest, as though he was the one who bore the knife wound.

Lifting his hand, he brushed some of the sticky blood from her beautiful cheek. Like this, she looked so fragile. Less marble and more glass. A woman who would break if he touched her wrong.

He hoped she was stronger than that. She'd need to be unbreakable once he took her home with him. Envy liked to think he could be gentle, but he wasn't the best at it. He'd tried before, and every time, his own desires got the best of him. Pretty things didn't last long when they were in his grasp.

But this one, with her feather light lashes that brushed across her cheeks, he wanted to keep alive.

"I'll take you back with me," he murmured, still brushing his fingers over her chilled skin. "You will be treated as a queen, my oracle. Your prophecies will be recorded for centuries to come. But more than that, you will give me all the pleasure and power I have desired for many years."

Someone new walked into the room, a big man, blustering with anger. He was almost as tall as Envy, had they both been standing. Ham handed fists and calloused knuckles suggested the man had fought for much of his life. But it was the narrowed eyed glare on his sun kissed features that put Envy on edge.

The priestesses hadn't been a threat. Though they would have fought him—and their numbers might have given them an advantage—they were no real opponent.

This man, with his wild hair and angry gaze, was a genuine threat.

The man stalked over to where Envy sat, though he still left a good amount of room between the two of them. "I'll thank you to take your hands off my oracle."

"An oracle cannot be owned." Envy did not remove his hands from her. If anything, his grip only tightened against her cheek and jaw. "To think that you can own the prophecies of the future is folly."

"Get your hands off her, or I will cut them off."

Threats? Already?

He looked up at the man with a blank expression, only now remembering that he wore a mask over his face. Clearly, no one would ever guess that their king was sitting in the changing room of a bath house with a practically nude oracle in his lap. But he quite liked where he was.

"Keeping her to yourself is selfish," he replied, ignoring the threat. "Perhaps you would be interested in a trade."

The man let out a low whistle through his teeth, the sound echoing and piercingly loud in this small space.

The shapeshifter walked in as well. This time, the rippling on his body was already sprouting hair. A wolf, it would seem. Or perhaps something larger with sharper teeth. Another man strode in behind him, although this one had his hands in his pockets. With his shaved head and slitted eyes, Envy could only guess he was yet another shapeshifter. Reptilian, if he wasn't mistaken.

"Such a show for such a small woman," Envy murmured, looking down at the oracle in his lap. "They called her Lilith out there. Is that her name?"

"I'm only going to give you one more chance to get up and walk out of here," the man replied. He tossed the wild mane of his hair and glared even harder. "Then things are going to get real difficult for you."

Envy sighed.

He hadn't wanted to reveal himself. This was supposed to be a chance for him to find someone with equal power, or at least enough power to be interesting. And then he would come back in the middle of the night, consume all her magic, and leave. It was the same thing he'd always done.

But he was getting bored with all that, anyway.

Reaching up for his mask, he took it off and then set it down on the marble beside her head. The faint click echoed in the room before he turned to look at the men.

The tattoos that covered him from neck to toe began to move. The snake around his neck slithering up higher until he could feel the faintest flicker of its tongue against his cheek.

It was ever so satisfying to watch all the blood drain from their features. Even they knew to be afraid of him. Envy knew the rumors that were rampant in his kingdom. They claimed he was a demon, both in birth and while fighting. Impossible to beat.

He rarely used all of his powers together, although the rumors of what he could do ran abound in this kingdom. In truth, he didn't even know his own limitations.

Perhaps using all of his power at once would kill him. It certainly would kill anyone else.

But he doubted that it would.

"My lord," the man finally muttered, bowing his head low as his two shapeshifters did the same behind him. "We did not know it was you."

"That much is clear."

"The oracle was a gift from another kingdom when she was just a child. She has been in my care since then. It is my greatest honor to keep her alive, and to spread her prophecies far and wide." He kept his head bowed, but Envy could see the man was still shaking with rage. "I would like to ensure that she is well after her attack."

"She is well."

"You and I both can see that she is still bleeding."

She wouldn't be, if this man would leave and let Envy work. Sighing, he turned his gaze to the ceiling as he let the breath out for a long time. Finally he tsked and looked the man in the eye. "How much?"

The man's eyes widened. "Excuse me?"

"How much for her?"

"I—" The man's eyes narrowed in anger, but at the very least, he kept his tongue from spitting that same anger out at Envy. "She is not for sale."

"Everything is for sale. Now. What is your price?"