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)
Her lips parted. “And the souls you buy . . . that’s where they go when their bodies fail them?”
He nodded again. “We can choose to instead free those souls so that they may be reborn, but we generally don’t.”
She frowned. “Wait, Seth’s parents are Adam and Eve, so he should be a guardian.”
“He is. In theory. He sold his soul to me to receive the powers of a leviathan.”
Her mouth opened in an “O” shape. “To be like all of you.”
“Yes. He didn’t want to be part of a species that would massacre another—women, men, children—the way the guardians did mine with no justification.”
She swiped her tongue over her lower lip. “You really don’t identify with your mother’s kind at all, do you?”
“I’m not like them. I’m stronger than other leviathans, I have powers they don’t possess, but I am still a leviathan. Which implies that my father’s genes were simply far more dominant than that of the guardians—they didn’t like that.”
“Still, it shouldn’t have been such a big deal that you were born. I don’t understand why God would insist that the two species didn’t procreate with one another.”
“You think it should be a good thing that I have both celestial and leviathan blood,” he sensed. “Perhaps it should. After all, I have both supreme light and supreme dark in me—you’d think it would create a balance. But some things aren’t supposed to mix, Wynter. Throwing two such total opposites together can sometimes create something even darker.”
Folding her arms, she bit down on her lip. “What do you mean?”
“Let me tell you a little about my father. He cared for Eve, in his way. He was the leading Monarch of all the leviathans. Exceedingly powerful, hence why he’s been doing so well down in hell since his death.” Cain paused. “His name . . . is Satan.”
Wynter went so utterly still that she didn’t breathe for a good few seconds. Finally, a breath stuttered out of her. “One of the theories about the Leviathan monster was that it was the devil in serpent form.”
“‘Devil’ isn’t the correct word in this context. Satan certainly seduced Eve. He was indeed a serpentine creature. But he never appointed himself the ruler of hell; never referred to himself as the devil. Lucifer calls himself that—the two men aren’t one and the same. Lucifer’s nothing like he’s depicted to be by humans. He’s simply a fallen angel who brought some order to hell and made it clear that anyone was welcome.”
Pausing, Cain stepped into Wynter’s personal space. “The reality is that there are much more malicious beings in hell than Lucifer—things that would give anyone nightmares. Satan, created to be the ultimate antithesis of God, is one of them. He is a thousand times darker than Lucifer. Crueler. Utterly insidious. Depraved in a lot of ways. And I’m his son.
“Yes, the antichrist has been present on Earth since almost the beginning of time. It’s true that I shouldn’t have been born. I am in fact one of the biggest monsters that will ever live. That, baby, is the Curse of Cain. And you, pretty witch . . . you now share in that curse, because I’ve claimed you as mine. And I’ll never fucking let you go.”
Slipping on her poker face without thought, Wynter didn’t say a word. Not a single one came to mind. She could only stare at Cain, her dry lips parted.
Well, he certainly knew how to tip a girl’s world on its axis.
Learning he was a leviathan, an actual gateway to hell for souls, had been enough of a blow. The harsh reality of Cain’s parentage was the icing on the fucked-up cake.
It was like . . . just . . . why would . . . Wow.
He was studying her hard, no doubt trying to get a sense of how she felt about his none-too-minor declaration. Well, good luck to him with that. Because she wasn’t even sure how she felt about it. Wynter was utterly numb.
She really should say something. She should. But what did you say to someone who proclaimed that they were Satan’s son?
Hell, it was really no wonder that he kept all this shit to himself, or that he’d wanted her to get to know and trust him before he lumbered it on her lap. Who wouldn’t prejudge and brand someone pure evil for being the freaking antichrist?
Her insides coiled as the silence dragged on while he continued to watch her closely, awaiting a response. It was hard to know how to respond. She didn’t want to accidentally say something that would hurt him—he didn’t deserve that. But that would be so easy to do when she wasn’t sure how he felt about his situation.
Did he resent the facts? Was he ashamed? Did he simply not care? Was he proud to be Satan’s son? Did the two once have a good relationship?