The Wicked in Me (Devil’s Cradle #1) Read Online Suzanne Wright

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, Paranormal, Romance, Witches Tags Authors: Series: Devil's Cradle Series by Suzanne Wright
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Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 125083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
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Being attacked from all sides, the Moonstar witches had their hands too full for them all to be able to focus entirely on Wynter, Xavier, and Anabel/Mary. But neither Esther nor the witches flanking her once allowed themselves to be distracted.

Yeah, well, neither did Wynter or the coven members at her sides. They all countered the attacks with both sword and magick, pouncing on any opening to retaliate. Shelving any pain, she lashed out again and again, loving how her enemies floundered at the intensity of her magick. Meanwhile, one crimson gust after another poured out of Anabel/Mary’s palms, and Xavier sent out surges of magick that reeked of death.

Above them all, power thundered through the air as the Ancients and Aeons continued trading blows. But Wynter didn’t have time to follow the battle going on above her. She didn’t even allow herself to think much on it. She had her own battle to focus—

Wynter swore as a wave of magick hit her so hard that the force sent her stumbling backwards. “Fucker.” She struck again, sending sparks of dark magick whipping along the ground.

The Moonstar witches backpedaled, trying to avoid the snapping, crackling whips. They failed. The magick lashed their flesh, leaving open sores that gaped.

“Feel the burn,” said Anabel/Mary.

Well, it was only fair. Wynter sported a fair number of wounds, courtesy of the scalding hot white orbs the other coven kept tossing at her—more of which then came flying her way. She slammed up her sword to deflect them just as Anabel/Mary threw yet another vial. It smashed a foot away from the other coven, its contents splashing their flesh. No, corroding their flesh.

“Acid.” Wynter smiled. “Nice.”

Chanting, a glaring Esther emitted another glittering mist. Wynter once more used her magick to hack through it and dissolve the spell.

Esther snarled. “Yield, Wynter. Your little group will die here if you don’t.”

“Looks like the ones dying are your people.” Wynter sent out another surge of magick. The surge swirled and morphed as it sailed toward her old coven, becoming red and black ashes that stuck to the skin of whatever witch they hit. More importantly, the ashes melted into any open wounds, wrenching cries and hisses and winces out of the witches.

Horrendous blisters soon began to pebble on the flesh of the aforementioned witches, including Esther. Those blisters burst and bled and sizzled, making the little skanks freak the fuck out.

“What in the name of …” Esther trailed off, striking out harder, absolutely panicked. That panic only increased when she realized that an inky blackness was spreading through her veins. The other witches who were similarly affected kept glancing at their Priestess even as they fought, looking for reassurance, maybe?

Well, they’d find none.

Soon enough, as the magick began to eat at their bodies, their skin began to blacken. Sag. Peel. Decay.

Teeth fell out. Hair thinned. Lips shriveled. Muscle wasted away. Extremities withered and became stumps.

“Damn, Wyn,” said Xavier, grinning. “This is … sickening. I love it.”

Wynter lifted her hand and paused the magick that was rotting Esther’s body before it could reach her brain. At this point, the Priestess looked both hideous and pitiful. Which was just absolutely wonderful.

Esther tried backing up, almost falling over the dead witches behind her. The coven’s number had steadily dropped until only a few were left standing, and Wynter doubted the woman had even noticed.

Wynter eyed her from head to toe. “Now your appearance matches the monster you are within. And I’d say you’ll fit in just fine with the other monsters you’ll meet where you’re going.” Wynter psychically tapped into her connection with the netherworld. The ground beneath Esther darkened and rippled like fluid. “I told you I wanted to be the one to see you fall, right?” Then the Priestess dropped with a scream.

*

Cain sucked in a pained breath as a heavy, white-hot bolt of light crashed into him, burning like a firebrand. The Aeons were now fighting harder, redoubling their efforts to take down the Ancients, no longer resorting to only using elemental power. But he and the other Ancients were hitting them just as hard and fast, giving no quarter. Hence why Cain then whipped the invaders with power, slashing their flesh and sending some sprawling to the ground … giving Seth time to rise after being knocked off his own feet by a strike from Lailah.

Cain had sensed several of the Ancients fall at one point or another, but none were down for long from what he could tell. It was hard to be certain. Aside from Seth and Azazel—who Cain could see in his peripheral vision—he had no way to check on the others. Not without turning his attention from the Aeons, which he couldn’t afford to do. But although he’d heard the occasional cry or grunt of pain, he had no sense that any of the other Ancients were badly injured.


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