Page 123 of The Demon Prince

Because they hadn’t wanted to. Their kingdom was falling apart at the seams and it was so easy to blame an absent king when they had just as much part in it. She did as well. Her people had plodded through their lives, so certain that someone else was to blame. They never had to look any deeper if they believed that. They never had to think that their own people could have fixed many of the issues if they’d just cared enough. If they’d just tried a little harder.

But she’d seen that realization on their faces when she walked back into town. They had seen her limping into view, emerging out of the mist like some kind of mythical creature pulling herself out of the swamp, and they had looked away. No one could meet her eyes, no one but Grace, who had stumbled toward her.

Twin black eyes had turned her friend’s usually beautiful countenance into one that proved something horrible had happened to her. And Grace was the one who linked their arms together, and the two of them had walked through the crowd. Quietly. Calmly. Without inciting more violence or anger, as they seemed so likely to do.

No one had tried to stop her. A few of them had even pointed her in the direction of this root cellar, one that had clearly been built to withstand a kelpie or other monstrous creature’s attack.

“Go to him,” Grace had said, standing outside the door with the falcon. “See if he’s...”

Neither of them wanted to admit that there could be a chance their king was dead. Even though Katherine knew it wasn’t possible for him to die. There was still that fear that she might find him headless, or just a body.

Instead, she’d found a man with a carved out smile, covered in blood and bruises, but who looked at her like she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

And now, Katherine held the back of his head as he drank from her neck. The sounds were rougher than usual, more audible as he gulped mouthful after mouthful of blood. She wasn’t light headed yet, though, so he could take all that he needed.

Her blood would heal him, she thought, and if it didn’t, at least he would go out to that crowd without the edge of hunger and rage. He would be comfortable, at ease, a man who could make them feel guilt for the monstrous things they had done.

He was alive.

Running her fingers up his cheeks, she felt for the giant wounds that were slowly closing. And though it was perhaps morbid, she kept her fingers against them until she felt them seal. The blood that stuck to her fingers, however, that would remain in her mind for many years to come.

Gently, she tugged at his jaw, smoothing her fingers down his neck as he growled at her.

“Gluttony,” she whispered. “You have to stop.”

He clutched her to him a little harder, holding her against his body a little too tightly as he started to coil around her. Like a snake who wanted to consume his prey whole.

“No, my darling.” Katherine didn’t feel an ounce of fear from his movements. She just patiently waited for him to come back to himself. “You cannot feed off me any longer. You will hurt me.”

His fingers spasmed against her back, and though he was still holding her too tight, he at least slowed in his drinking.

“That’s it,” she whispered. “Come back into yourself, Gluttony. You are the king of these people, and we have to prove to them why you are king. You cannot be wounded. You cannot be weak. You have to be the Gluttony I know, so that we can tell them what you will do now.”

And so, slowly, he drew back. She felt him lick her neck, but knew those wounds were too deep for any healing to be done. Even the spirit inside her seemed to realize that the marks he had left needed to remain.

She wanted everyone to see them. She wanted to show the signs of his feeding and wear them with pride. She would prove to them all those bodies in the almshouse had not ended up there because of Gluttony.

Katherine stood, using his shoulder to brace herself until the dizziness faded. And then he joined her, every inch a king, even though he was covered in blood and dirt. Without a word, he held out his arm for her to take and the two of them made their way up the stairs into the dim light of the sun.

A small crowd had formed, all standing at odds with Grace, who seemed ready to fight anyone. The black eyes made her look rather menacing.

But everyone froze when they saw who approached them from the cellar. Surely they had seen the man missing parts of his body leave this shadowy place. But perhaps they thought that Gluttony would also consume her.

Either way, they were looking at two united people. Not a victim and abuser.

Grace turned to her first, her voice low and quiet. “Katherine?”

“Yes?”

“You all right?”

She met her friend’s gaze first, then turned her attention to all the people in front of them. “I am more than well. I have come to collect the man I love, and now I am going to take him home.”

Low murmurs spread through the crowd. Love? How could she love a man like that? A creature who had tormented their kingdom for such a long time?

She glared at them all. Each and every one until they fell silent, their faces burning with embarrassment. But she could see their eyes on the wounds at her throat. She knew what they were thinking and where their fear came from.

Carefully lifting her fingers, she skated them over the wounds on her neck, drawing even more attention to the punctures. “These are the marks of the man who loves me. The man who I have committed myself to.”

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