Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 125179 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125179 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
They fought hard. Fast. Skillfully. But it only took one nick to his skin for the guy to rear back. He slapped and scratched at his flesh, seemingly unable to fully ignore the scuttle of phantom insects courtesy of the sword’s enchantment. Taking advantage, she slit his throat in one clean, devastating swipe.
Hearing a squawk of pain, Wynter felt her breath catch. Hattie. She twisted quickly to—
A heavy weight slammed into the back of her head, dazing the fuck out of her. Pain wracked her skull as her vision blurred and dimmed. Then everything went black.
Chapter Twenty-Four
It was blistering hot pain that woke her. Seriously hot pain. Like her blood was actually boiling. The agony pulsed through her veins, as rhythmic as a heartbeat.
It took everything Wynter had not to whimper. Especially when, moreover, the back of her head ached like a mother. Blow to the skull, she remembered. She suspected she had a real nice goose-egg back there.
Taken. She’d been taken.
Keeping her eyes closed, she used her other senses to process her situation. She was lying on a cold, hard, rough floor. Stone, if she had to guess. A heavy metal weight was clamped around her neck—a collar of some sort. Bastards.
The smells of dust, iron, and rust laced the cool air, making her nose wrinkle. She could hear the flickering of flames that made her think of the wall torches in Cain’s temple. There were also muffled voices nearby, and she was sure that one of them belonged to Adam.
Her monster was livid, but Kali was keeping it calm and cautioning it to wait. Really, with how rough and drained Wynter felt, she wasn’t sure she could release her monster. There was something very wrong with her right now. She felt weak and bruised and stiff, like she’d been starved for weeks, forced to run marathons, and subjected to more than a dozen beatings.
She subtly tried conjuring a small flame of magick in her hand. Said magick purred against her skin, answering her call, but didn’t follow her request. Not good.
Shoes scuffing stone.
Her pulse jumped as several sets of footfalls came her way. They halted a short distance from her, but no one spoke. She didn’t move, wanting to get a better sense of her situation before—
Cold power slapped her face hard. The shock of it made her body flinch and her eyes snap open. She stared at the four Aeons standing outside her cell. Yeah, she was in a fucking cell. Those motherbitches.
“I would imagine that you are wondering what’s causing you so much pain,” said Adam, his lips curved in a cruel smugness. “Liquid iron. My grandson injected you with it.”
Noah smirked at her, his eyes drinking in her face as he awaited her response, as if wanting to feed on whatever shock, anger, or betrayal she might feel. So his smirk dimmed somewhat when she gave him no reaction.
Dismissing him with a look, she clenched her teeth as she pushed herself onto her elbows . . . hearing a jangle of a chain. She only then realized that one was attached to her collar. Anger tore through her, but she set it aside, not wanting to give these assholes the pleasure of a reaction.
Without even looking to see what she’d been chained to, Wynter forced herself to sit upright. Every muscle protested and cramped so painfully it took everything she had not to moan. She shelved the pain, more concerned about the spots dancing in her vision as lightheadedness crept up on her.
Dammit, she would not blackout. Not again.
She leaned back against the stone wall, going for casual. Which wasn’t easy when her eyes watered, sweat blotted her skin, and there was a slight tremor in her limbs.
Using only her peripheral vision, she took in the scene. She was in a dungeon or prison, by the looks of it. There were no torturous instruments that she could see. Just rows of cells. It was hard to tell due to how dark it was, but she didn’t think there were any other prisoners here.
Rather than demand answers to her questions, Wynter sat very still, making no sound, showing no fear. She swept her eyes over each male face, boldly meeting their gazes head-on. She recognized the two flanking Adam as his younger brothers, Emmanuel and Jude. Oh, the Ancients would have some fun butchering these dudes, especially Emmanuel since he’d killed Abaddon’s eldest son right in front of him.
Adam folded his arms. “Noah tells me that you are Cain’s consort.” A sadistic delight flared in his eyes. “Oh, how he will loathe breathing his last breath knowing that I have you in my possession.”
Wynter didn’t respond. She merely stared at him, keeping her expression unreadable. Which didn’t seem to please the Aeon. Yay.
“I can understand now why he point-blank refused to consider surrendering you to me. He wanted to protect you.” Adam let out a dark chuckle. “He failed.”