Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 121324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
During the previous battle, she’d been part of the Ancients’ first line of defense. Cain had agreed to it because he’d liked the thought of her being directly in his line of sight. But he wasn’t so keen on Abel having such a perfect view of her, given that the Aeon would laser in on her for sure. Cain would rather that the asshole’s focus was on him, and Wynter would rather that Cain wasn’t so distracted worrying about her. They’d therefore agreed that she’d situate herself elsewhere.
Battle-readiness beating in his blood, Cain cricked his neck. Five of the other Ancients had joined him, but they were waiting on Dantalion. The manor’s roof was the obvious and most strategic place for them to gather during battles, since it was the highest building and situated at the center of the town.
Cain cast his brother a quick look. Seth hadn’t spoken much, and his expression was unnaturally blank. Cain supposed it was one thing for Seth to goad Abel into declaring war on them, it was another to have to accept that the result of his goading would be that a brother he’d once loved would die here today.
Seth was the type of person to whom it mattered if someone was of his blood. Cain had never been given a reason to truly value that, so he wasn’t finding this moment difficult whatsoever. Really, a final confrontation between Abel and Cain had been a long time coming.
Finally appearing on the roof, Dantalion glanced around the cliffs that bordered the town. “Abel and his troops aren’t here yet?”
“No, but they’re on their way,” said Cain. “And things are not playing out as they did in Demetria’s vision. According to the information that the scouts passed on to Maxim, the Aeons and troops aren’t heading from the west.”
Frowning, Dantalion crossed to Cain and the other Ancients. “They’re not? Then from where?”
“They’re coming at us from every angle. Their intent seems to be to surround the town.”
Dantalion’s lips thinned. “Then it looks like we’ll be putting plan C into effect. Have you made the residents aware of that?”
“Yes.” To be specific, Cain had had one of the dragon shifters fly low around the town, drawing the occasional “C” with fire. “Everyone knows what they should be doing and where they need to be.”
Many residents were dressed in black and positioned on roofs like snipers—some armed, some merely intent on attacking with either power or magick. Other townspeople were on the ground, either indoors or in full view.
Clusters of animals—including wolves, leopards, coyotes, and bears—lingered here and there. Some were shifters, some were lycans, some were were-beasts, and some were shapechangers. All were lethal and would fight to the bitter end.
“Do we know who’s leading the troops?” asked Dantalion.
“Only Abel,” Cain told him. “There’s no sign of Adam or Saul.” Cain had thought that the latter Aeon would join Abel in leading.
“I suppose it would have been too much to hope for that we might get to kill them all in one clean swoop,” said Azazel.
Cain turned to his still silent brother. “You going to be all right?”
Seth met his gaze. “If you mean will I be able to kill Abel and still sleep at night, yes. You’re my brother. He is just—as he seems to enjoy reminding us—our jailor.”
Maybe so, but it wasn’t as simple as that for Seth, no matter what he wished to believe.
“And here they are,” said Azazel, rolling his shoulders.
Cain took in the newcomers, all of whom had formed a circle on the cliffs that enclosed the town. There wasn’t just one single row of people, there were several. Among them was motherfucking Abel. He stood almost directly opposite Cain, his face set into a mask of cruel delight.
Given that many of Aeon’s residents had relocated, Cain suspected that Abel had hired mercenaries. Especially since Abel was likely here against Adam’s wishes—it didn’t seem probable that Abel would have been able to convince so many others to do the same.
“Some of his people are Aeons,” said Lilith. “Mostly third and fourth generations.”
“How many Aeons in total?” asked Dantalion.
“Approximately eighteen,” she replied. “They’re sporadically placed around the circle so that they can come at us from each angle.”
Cain recognized them easily enough. Going by their sneers, these were obviously people who felt the same as Abel; that the Ancients should have been executed eons ago.
“Given the number of troops he has with him, it’s safe to say he definitely hasn’t come to adjust the size of our cage,” said Azazel. “He’s come for a battle.”
Abel skimmed his gaze over the town, dismissing it with a sniff.
Dantalion sighed. “I really do hate that pompous prick.”
“Don’t we all,” muttered Lilith.
Abel homed in on the Ancients, his mouth curving into a cruel smile. He called to the wind, forming a small breeze. “You didn’t think I would truly come, did you?” he taunted, letting the breeze carry his voice to them.