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)
As Ishtar hadn’t physically hurt her, she’d believe that made her actions “okay.” They weren’t fucking okay. Not at all.
His creature was furious. Pictures of what could happen to their witch at the Aeons’ hands danced around its brain, keeping its rage alive. Not even Wynter’s promise had done much to calm it.
Cain cricked his neck. “I’ll deal with her.”
Sharp quicksilver eyes took him in, glimmering with impatience. “You do know she’ll be prepared for it, right? She knew I’d likely tell you what she said. She’ll be expecting you to barge into her Keep and verbally rip her to shreds. She might even be looking forward to it—she likes having your attention.”
He let out a weary sigh. “Yes, I know.” It grated on him.
One would think that, given how many people populated Devil’s Cradle, Ishtar would consider herself spoilt for choice when it came to selecting people who could pay her the devotion she craved. But since she believed that Ancients were far superior to other beings, it was the attentiveness of fellow Ancients that she most wanted. Much like a human might enjoy the company of a pet but still prefer and place more value in the attention of a fellow human. And, unlucky for Cain, it was his attention that Ishtar primarily sought.
“So maybe you should consider handling it in a way she won’t expect. You don’t have to threaten or physically hurt a person to get your point across. And Ishtar has many, many weak spots—most of which are connected to her ego. Give that a stab by all means, but let that be enough.”
Targeting the woman’s ego wouldn’t be such a bad idea at all. He’d done it several times in the past, and it was always effective. But how could that possibly be “enough” when she’d thought to convince Wynter to put herself at risk?
“At least let it be enough for now,” his witch amended. “You need to do what’s smart. Wiping her off the face of the Earth would be fun, but not smart.”
Cain pulled in a deep breath and, knowing she was right, agreed, “I’ll let it be enough for now.” He was highly tempted to subject Ishtar to a temporary stay in his dungeon, but he needed each of the Ancients to be at top strength in the event of a surprise attack.
Wynter rubbed her hands, looking a little gleeful. “So just what are you gonna do to that ego of hers? I need details.”
He felt his lips quirk, even in spite of his mood. His witch had a knack for making him smile no matter how pissed he was. “I’m not quite sure yet. I’ll give it some thought. Later.”
“Not right now?”
“No, because I have more interesting plans for us. They involve stripping, showering, coming hard, and then sleeping. You in?”
She slipped off the bed. “Dude, I can’t believe you felt the need to ask me. There should have been no doubt.”
*
Wynter called out Xavier’s name as she skipped down the stairs. Muffled voices came from the kitchen. She walked into the room. Paused. Frowned. No one was there.
An open book lay on the counter. Anabel’s cauldron bubbled. Boxes of Delilah’s bespelled cosmetics had been stacked on the table. Xavier’s tarot cards were scattered on the floor.
More muffled voices came. She followed the sounds and headed into the living room. Her brow furrowed. It was empty. Flames crackled in the fireplace. There were used cups on the coffee table.
A loud feminine laugh came from upstairs. Delilah. Wynter turned and—
A large hand snapped around her throat from behind. It yanked her awake . . . and yet it didn’t. She wasn’t awake. She was still in her living room. Dreaming. Choking.
Struggling, Wynter clawed at the hand gripping her neck. It held tight, squeezing hard. She grabbed the little finger, yanked it sideways, and let her body go limp. Her attacker stumbled, releasing her.
Wynter moved fast, launching herself forward while also scrambling to her feet. Wheezing with each breath, she sharply whirled . . . and found herself facing a grinning Saul.
Wynter shook her head, confused. “What did you do?”
He lifted a brow. “Isn’t it obvious? I hijacked your dream and trapped us both here. That is why you are feeling mentally aware. You are awake, yet stuck.”
Shit, shit, shit. She knew such things were possible, of course. She just wouldn’t have imagined he’d do this, considering . . . “This is a dangerous game you’re playing. People who die while trapped in a dream this way fall into a coma in the real world.”
“And they never wake up, I know. That’s why this is so perfect. You come back from the dead. But you may not so easily come back from a comatose state.”
Her stomach sank and twisted.
“Think of how furious Cain will be. For all his power, even he would not be able to wake you.”