Total pages in book: 178
Estimated words: 169578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 848(@200wpm)___ 678(@250wpm)___ 565(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 169578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 848(@200wpm)___ 678(@250wpm)___ 565(@300wpm)
Eleazar went down as Maddox landed a lethal blow that split the bishop’s skull wide. He fell to his knees and looked up with resolute understanding. This was the end. Larissa’s scream cut through the night as Maddox raised his claws, prepared to slash his enemy to ribbons.
Overhead, Christian roared as he soared through the air like an angel of mercy, scythe raised and twirling at the precise angle as he spread his legs to land. The clean slice of the blade splitting Maddox’s hand from his arm stole her breath in a soundless woosh.
The hewn hand fell to the earth, and Maddox dropped to his knees. Blood sprayed from his wrist. Christian landed in a crouch and quickly rose, angling the blade of the scythe for his father’s throat.
A curdling roar ripped through the storm as Maddox turned his possessed fury on his son. His severed hand lay lifeless on the ground and crazed hatred spilled from his eyes. With his good hand, he snatched the scythe, but Christian’s grip was unforgivably strong. Claws scraped down Christian’s face, fraying his drenched clothing as blood spattered into his father’s eyes. They fell to the ground, grappling to the death.
Delilah doubled over, flinching and gasping at her mate’s pain. The bishop crawled toward them in a feeble attempt to stop Maddox from murder. It was then Delilah realized this would be the end. Maddox was too powerful. His intent to harm too great. And his hate far darker than any counterpart as subtle as hope or love. He was evil, and he would not rest until all the elders were destroyed.
Suffering the onslaught of too many injuries, she welcomed the pain, letting it swallow her whole. If Christian was going to die, she wanted to go with him. She refused to live in a world where immortals like Cerberus Maddox held absolute power. He would make sure the women suffered and serve only himself. She couldn’t keep fighting—would never fight to stay in a world so depraved that only the corrupt survive. The violence was too much. His power too great.
The bishop collapsed and struggled to rise. It was a massacre. Delilah could only look on in horror as blood and mud coated their skin and clothing. If these were in fact holy creatures then the pouring rain could only be God’s bereft tears.
Maddox threw Christian’s body to the ground and rose. Seething, he held the scythe in his hand, an uncontainable wrath flooding from him as he marched back to the bishop. Eleazar tried to stand, but his injuries were too great.
“No!” Christian roared as Maddox lifted the scythe high over the bishop’s head, the moonlight flashing on the blood-soaked blade as it came down with accurate promise.
A furious growl ripped through the air and Maddox was knocked to the ground. Delilah jumped back, as a male—more beast than man—slammed Maddox into the dirt. The bishop fell back as the scythe landed in the mud at his side, his head still intact.
The flames in the forest blazed as the house crumbled. The males of The Order looked on in shock and awe. Chaos exploded as the beast choked Maddox into the earth.
“Isaiah!” one male shouted, the shock clear in his voice.
“Get the females out of here!”
“How was he freed?” Weapons lifted as they prepared to charge.
“Stay back,” the bishop ordered the elders, lifting a shaking hand. The beast turned his eyes on Eleazar.
“Grab him!” someone yelled, followed by more voices encouraging the same.
Maddox lay unconscious on the soaked ground. The beast stood, hunched like a cornered primate, as the others surrounded him. A low growl rumbled from his heaving chest.
“Wait.” Christian stepped forward, eyeing the beast with curious perplexity.
“Christian, do not!” the bishop ordered as Christian took a slow step closer.
Delilah held her breath as her mate looked into the beast’s bloodred eyes. “Isaiah, do you understand me?”
The beast growled, the low rumble a gentle warning that he would not be trapped.
Lightning flashed, illuminating the drenched fields and something small in the distance. Delilah squinted. The witch was gone, but another figure lay unmoving in the pouring rain. Her eyes strained to identify the small female, noting the way her threadbare shift slicked to her body as she lay…lifeless.
Her breath caught as she recognized the girl. That was Dane’s sister, the one The Order kept locked in a cell. What happened to her? Why wasn’t she moving?
Her attention snapped back to the beast. This was Isaiah, the thing that lived in the cell beside Cybil. How were they set free?
Isaiah panted and seethed, his bare chest rising and falling under a long, matted knot of hair as his bloodred stare bore into Christian’s. The winds lifted the flames shooting a spray of sparks into the sky overhead. The immortals took a step forward and the beast hissed, ordering them back. They were afraid of him.