Page 125 of The Demon Crown

Surely that counted for something? Perhaps that even proved he could be more than just a demon.

And if he could be more than that, then perhaps he deserved the woman he was rushing to save.

Casting his gaze over the men and women before him, all covered in ash and sand, he wondered if they were thinking a similar thing. That if they saved her, then they were proving they were worthy. Perhaps not of her attention, but worthy of whatever else it was that they were afraid of.

By the gods, he was proud of them. They were here when no one else had thought to do so. They were here, risking their lives, ready to perhaps die not just for the woman who had helped them all, but for their kingdom. These were the true warriors. Not those that he’d trained for years and years, but the people who actually cared if this kingdom prospered.

They wanted their own vengeance. He could see it in their eyes.

They wanted to watch the Horde burn not because he had ordered it, but because they had seen their own homes go up in flames. They had lived in terror of this group for too long, not knowing how to stop them and all the while praying that someone else would.

How could he not let them fight? How could he not give them the chance to take back their kingdom in the only way any of them knew how?

Through blood and thievery.

That was the kingdom he’d created. And here were the people he had nurtured for centuries. They were perfect.

Emotions stuck in his throat, he tried to clear it before saying, “You will fight beside us. You will be careful, because I will not suffer through her wrath if a single one of you is stupid enough to get killed. Do you understand me?”

Altan flashed him a bright grin. “I think you’ll be surprised to see how well we fight, demon king. You don’t have to worry about losing any of us in this mad dash toward the end.”

He very much had to worry about that. Not only because Varya valued them, but also because... well. He supposed he did, too.

Stupid thoughts. Stupid feelings. He hadn’t wanted any of this in his life and then that ridiculous woman had stomped all over his heart and forced blood back into the dead organ.

“Come on, then,” he grumbled, turning his attention to the sands and the darkness beyond. “We have a queen to save.”

They all let out a cry of rage and hope that they would find her in one piece, and then they were thundering across the desert. He tried to still his mind. To make sure that he wasn’t overthinking anything by the time they got to wherever the Horde had hidden themselves this time.

Greed needed to think clearly. He needed a brain that was geared toward battle and battle alone. He could not afford to lose his temper because someone had taken his bride. He loved her, she loved him, and he knew just how dangerous his love was.

And then, when he had her back in his arms, he would tell her how much he loved her. He would whisper those words into the lovely crook of her neck. That spot was his favorite place in the entire world. He would tell her everything and that he’d been a fool who had waited too long in the first place.

Varya would forgive him for that. She’d forgiven him for worse.

And so, with her scent in his lungs and his heart racing in his chest, he drove them hard throughout the night. The sand gave to him, almost as though the desert knew he was going to feed her with so much blood that she had no reason to even try to stop him. She eased their journey, giving them no tempests or dust devils to slow them.

The Horde’s encampment blinked to life on the horizon. A tiny dot of shimmering fire was all that glowed in the distance, but he knew exactly what it was. No other nomadic tribe would dare to be so foolish as to leave their fires burning.

Especially when they knew who hunted them.

A part of him wanted to rush into the camp and start the bloodbath. He wanted to hear them screaming out his name in fear, as he gave them no mercy.

But there was too much at risk. If he rushed in with his blades out, they would know he was here. They would hide Varya, or worse, they would kill her just to spite him. He didn’t want to take that risk. He couldn’t.

Greed would get his revenge and his blood, though. He would bathe in it before this night was done.

He lowered himself from the horse and quietly dropped onto the sands. He crawled forward, making sure no one would see him as the others followed suit.

Surprisingly, this group of ragtag soldiers was just as intuitive as his own people. It was strange how wonderful that felt to know there were people behind him, willing to care for him, who wanted blood just as much as he did.

He pointed to the tents. “Use your blades to cut through the leather hides. As quiet as possible. And then slit their throats in their sleep.”

Altan looked at him with surprise, playing across his features. “You want us to do this quietly?”

“For now.” Greed shrugged. “Someone will scream. A gurgle will be too loud and they’ll figure out we’re here. There are too few of us and too many of them for this to remain entirely silent. But I want to get eyes on her before I unleash everything upon these people. I want them dead. I want them gone. And I want her back.”

Everyone nodded and started down the dunes, slithering on their bellies until they reached the tents. In the distance, he could see there were still a few Horde members standing around the central fire. They were all drunk, though he suspected there were scouts out here somewhere that were not.

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