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)
Abaddon sighed at her. “So you still like to play games.”
Widening her eyes in innocence, she put a hand to her chest. “I am simply being friendly.”
Abaddon snorted. “You’re not friendly.”
“On the contrary, I can be very—”
“Sister,” Inanna cut in, a soft note of warning in her voice.
Ishtar gave a fake pout. “None of you are any fun.”
A short while later, Cain declared it was time to make the speech. The Ancients began to file out of the solar room one by one.
Lagging behind to fall into step beside Cain, Azazel asked him, “Do you think that Kali possessed Wynter last night?”
“It’s a possibility,” Cain told him. “She has no recollection of the last time the deity possessed her. If it happened again, she likely wouldn’t remember.”
Azazel twisted his mouth. “So Kali could have taken over her body last night.”
“Yes. There’s a chance She wants to help us escape our cage, and having Abaddon certainly improves our odds. She might have used Wynter’s body to achieve that goal.”
It pissed Cain off that the deity used her over and over in such a way, but there was little he could do about it. That only made it worse for him. It caused him to feel that he was failing his consort; failing to protect her.
He looked forward to the day when Kali no longer needed Wynter. It would not only mean she would be both free and safer but that he would have her all to himself. For now, well, he had one comfort: Kali might have some hold over Wynter, but She would never be able to take his consort from him.
Chapter Nineteen
Lifting his glass tumbler later that evening, Cain tipped it back and swallowed some of his brandy. Beside him, Wynter sank back into the dining room chair, clearly full. They were alone now, since Abaddon had headed to his bedchamber to rest, determined to be at full strength fast.
The meal had gone well. Cain had watched as his consort and uncle got to know each other, and he hadn’t been surprised by how easy Abaddon had taken to her. Wynter was like a Leviathan in many ways—merciless, vengeful, cunning, elusive.
She’d intrigued Abaddon without even trying. It had been amusing to watch his uncle try to pluck secrets out of her. Amusing to witness her skillfully dodge the Ancient’s questions, never falling for any of his traps.
Abaddon had later given Cain a subtle nod of approval, clearly supportive of his choice of consort. Cain couldn’t claim he’d craved or even wanted such approval, but it was still nice to have it.
He suspected that one of the things about her which most impressed Abaddon was that she wasn’t intimidated by him. People always found Abaddon daunting—the residents of Devil’s Cradle were no exception; they’d given him plenty of space when Dantalion earlier gave him a tour of both the underground city and the town above them.
The people had been shocked when Cain gave his speech, informing them of Abaddon’s existence. But they’d otherwise taken the news well, according to his aides. After all, the presence of an additional Ancient meant that Devil’s Cradle was now even safer.
Cain knocked back the last of his brandy, set down his glass, and looked at his consort. “Are you going to tell me what’s playing on your mind? You hid it well from Abaddon, but you’re distracted by something.”
She bit the inside of her cheek. “You won’t like it.”
His scalp prickled at her grave expression, and his creature’s head snapped up. “Maybe not. But that doesn’t mean you should have to hold it inside.” He gently cupped her chin. “Don’t ever feel the need to dance around my feelings or moods or beliefs, Wynter. I would much rather you always shared your burdens with me, even if I won’t like them, than for you to choose another person to confide in.”
Letting out a heavy breath, she twisted in her chair. “Okay, I’ll tell you. But I need you to make me a promise first.”
He narrowed his eyes. “What sort of promise?”
“That you won’t contact Kali about this.”
He ran his tongue along the inside of his lower lip. “All right.”
She let out a soft snort. “That’s not enough, Cain. Nor was it very convincing.” She held out her hand, which currently crackled with magick. “Promise you won’t contact Kali after you hear what I have to say.”
His hackles rose. He didn’t like this. Not at all. “You intend to literally hold me to my vow? You don’t trust me to keep it?”
“It’s not a matter of trust. It’s a matter of my knowing that you won’t react well to what I tell you, and I need to be sure you won’t do something rash.”
He searched her eyes, seeing no room for negotiation there. “This news you have is truly that awful?”