Page 3 of The Demon Prince

Everyone in the room sucked in a breath, because they all knew whohimwas. Gluttony. Their king. The man who feasted upon their women and sent them home bleeding like he didn’t care if they died on the walkway home or if the scent drew creatures to the one he’d wounded.

The pale young man lurched forward, gripping Rose’s hand in his. “I’ll kill him.”

“No,” Rose rasped.

Even Katherine felt the need to step in after that declaration, and she wasn’t the type to care what someone said at the bed of an injured loved one. “Attacking Gluttony will only end in your own death. You know this.”

He glared at her. “He’s going to keep doing this to our women. He’s going to keep hurting people if someone doesn’t stop him.”

“And you think that person should be you?” Katherine had to look away from him before he saw the pity in her eyes. “No one can stop him. He’s a demon, remember? He rules us all.”

And her words rang true throughout the room. Others drifted out of the kitchen, heading who knows where. Perhaps just finding a quiet space where they could process what had happened to one of their own.

As Grace finished up, she helped Rose upright and then handed her off to the young man who handled her like she was precious. He cast a glare in Katherine’s direction, of course. Why should he thank her for saving Rose’s life when he could be mad at her for pointing out the obvious?

Everyone left until it was just Grace and Katherine, like always. Then Grace looked at her and shook her head. “You have to work on your bedside manner. Really, Katherine?”

“What?”

“The boy just wants to help.”

“By throwing his life away the moment he steps foot near Gluttony and tells him... what? To stop feasting upon women? He’s been doing that for the better part of a year, other than those few months when he disappeared.” Katherine shook her head and tried to stand, but her hip locked up. “Someone has to be the voice of reason. That boy will get himself killed.”

“So? If he wants to be the hero, let him. Even if he wants to just be a fictional hero to make her feel better, let him.” Grace shook her head. “That big mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble someday, Katherine.”

Then she left. Not offering to help this time, Katherine noted.

Sitting by the firelight, pain lancing up and down her spine, all the way to her toes, Katherine wondered if her big mouth had already gotten her into trouble. It sure felt like this loneliness was the definition of it.

Wincing, she used the table as leverage and forced herself to limp back to her room. Alone. Covered in blood.

Life never seemed to change here.

ChapterTwo

Gluttony wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, wincing at the acidic bite of gypsum that he’d somehow smeared on his lips. He’d thought he had washed his hands enough, but his senses had always been a little too strong to use the substance.

The alchemical book in his hands suggested that gunpowder happened to have a reaction to copper, but so far, he’d seen no such reaction. He could leave them both in the beaker until the morning... What if they exploded, though? He’d already had enough mishaps in his laboratory to last a lifetime.

And his lifetimes were rather long. Infinite, really.

Sighing, he leaned back in his chair and stared down at the book. This was supposed to be written by one of the best alchemists of their time. The man had quite literally created an elixir of life, or so the legends told.

He had a hard time believing it if the man couldn’t even turn copper blue.

Hissing out a frustrated breath, he tore the page out of the rather priceless book and threw it into the fire. Let the flames consume this fool’s work because clearly it wasn’t as impressive as the man thought it was.

Gluttony stared around his workroom and wondered when it had degraded into such chaos. Used beakers were littered everywhere and on every surface. The room was massive, large enough to be an entertaining area if he’d ever had anyone come to his kingdom. Instead, he had filled it with tables and vials and giant, looping tubes that twisted around each other and into other beakers. Burners covered every corner, along with dust and all manner of objects that were supposed to help him in his quest.

He had to figure out what the substance was that had somehow knocked his brother unconscious. He had to know what weapon the mortals had created that was so dangerous to him and his brothers.

This was his job. His reason for existence.

His apology for disappointing so many of them.

Already he could hear Wrath’s voice in his head. “You’ve fucked up one too many times, Gluttony. You’re eating your own subjects now? What kind of monster have you become?”

And there it was again. The rage. The anger that burned in his chest because he knew they were judging him for it. He almost wanted them to judge him for his desires, because he knew they were wrong. Wrath was correct in saying that he was a monster or that he’d become one. He certainly had. Gluttony was everything that people in this kingdom feared. He was the monster waiting at the foot of their bed, slavering over the scent of their blood.

---