Riel didn't speak when Sariel brushed behind her and wrapped her arms around her waist. She didn't flinch or resist when her other self leaned close, lips near her ear.
"You've been selfish, you know," Sariel whispered, her tone feather-light but unmistakably teasing. "Keeping Master all to yourself."
"I was here first," Riel said softly, almost too quiet to be heard.
Asmodeus laughed under his breath.
"You're both mine," he said, rising with Riel still cradled in his arms. "Argue about the order all you like. It changes nothing."
The greenhouse door clicked behind them as they moved through the halls — velvet dusk hanging low in the citadel's corridors, torchlight painting shadows that swayed across the walls. Neither woman argued after his words.
Riel's cheek rested against his chest, the rise and fall of her breath steady now. Calmer. As if being carried reminded her of what she wanted and desired.
