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)
She shrugged, her expression apologetic. “I don’t know the land well enough to be specific, I’m sorry. It’s just so vast.”
“Could you tell which direction they came from?”
Biting her lip, Demetria shook her head. “Sorry, Sire, I have no idea.”
Annoyance simmered in Cain’s blood. “What were they talking about?”
“I couldn’t hear anything, I could only see. I tried lip-reading, but I only made out a few words and sentences.”
“And what were they?”
“Saul said his sister’s name several times. He told Abel, ‘You sent her to her death.’ Or something like that. Abel seemed to be defending himself. At one point, he said, ‘didn’t expect her to die.’ They argued, and then Abel was saying the words ‘help’ and ‘coup.’ I think maybe Abel wanted his help with raiding the town. They stopped arguing then, and Saul said, ‘I’m listening.’ That was when the vision cut off.”
Cain forced his back teeth to unlock. “How large was the army?”
“There were at least two hundred troops.”
Not a small force, then. “Do you have any idea when we should expect them to arrive?”
She sucked in her lips and again gave a sad shake of the head. “No feelings or knowings accompanied the vision.”
For fuck’s sake. He didn’t really see the point in Nemesis sending her a vision if there weren’t any specifics to truly help. “Describe the area in your vision as best you can.”
She very thoroughly reeled off a description that instantly improved his mood. Stuck in Devil’s Cradle, Cain had never explored the badlands. He had, however, studied the landscape many times using the font in his temple—fire-gazing enabled him to see much of the land and the world beyond it. As such, he had a pretty good idea of where Saul and the other Aeons would meet.
Done, she shrugged. “There’s really no more I can tell you.”
“Thank you, Demetria. Let me know if you have any other visions.”
She bowed her head. “Of course.”
They both walked out of the “alley,” where they then separated. The oracle made a beeline for the arched opening in the curtain wall, just as he had himself intended to do. But now he needed to head back to the Keep.
As he cut through the bailey, satisfaction, worry, and a sense of battle-readiness fought for supremacy inside him. Abel would soon come, Cain would soon get to end him, and the Ancients as a whole would then be another step closer to freedom. But the problem was that Saul would most definitely relay a very fundamental detail to Abel—he would tell him that Wynter was Cain’s consort. Abel would then be even more determined to get his hands on her. He would be thrilled by the prospect of being able to subject Cain’s consort to years of horrifying torture.
Which was not going to fucking happen.
No. Cain would ensure it never came to pass. He and the rest of Devil’s Cradle would be ready for Abel and his army.
Even at this very moment, people were patrolling the badlands, looking for any sign that the Aeons were getting close. It didn’t seem wise to tell them to concentrate solely on the area that Demetria described. Cain would never rely fully on a precognitive vision for guidance. The future wasn’t fixed. Unexpected things could happen any time that created a domino effect—altering people’s decisions, actions, and paths—which might then render such a vision useless.
Still, he needed to inform the other Ancients of her claims. Since that wasn’t something he needed to personally do, he tracked down Maxim and said, “I have a job for you.”
*
“I forgot how much I like these,” said Xavier before taking a bite of his grilled cheese sandwich. “We’ve got to have these for lunch more often.”
Wynter nodded, pushed aside her empty plate, and then took a sip of her water. They’d temporarily closed their “store” to have lunch. Everyone other than Hattie was gathered around the dining table. She’d gone to sit outside and read, now that she’d finished her soup.
Loud, deep growls filtered through the open window.
Rolling her eyes, Delilah brushed her hands together to dust off crumbs now that she was done with her lunch. “Sounds like the lycans are posturing again.”
Both packs had taken it upon themselves to keep an eye out for Saul, viewing the coven as under their protection. The problem was that the two packs still didn’t get along very well, so they often took to barking or growling at each other.
At first, it had unnerved the guards who’d stationed themselves in the backyard at Cain’s order, but they’d quickly gotten used to the lycans’ antics.
It was kind of weird having such tight security measures, but Wynter wasn’t about to complain. Not when so many visible guards would serve as a deterrent to Saul.
Initially—worried that he might try to break into the cottage one night and not wanting her coven to have to deal with him alone—she’d intended to spend her nights here until he was caught. But Cain had pointed out that there was no reason for Saul to do such a thing, considering it was well-known that she slept at Cain’s Keep.