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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Wynter poked the inside of her cheek with her tongue. “Is there an Aeon who you’d hesitate to hurt? That might be who they’ll send.”

Cain exchanged a look with Azazel. “There’s one, but they wouldn’t send her.”

“Why not?” asked Wynter.

“Because they prefer to keep she and I apart,” replied Cain. “And they would expect me to keep her here, which wouldn’t suit them.”

Wynter’s brow puckered for the briefest moment. “An ex of yours?”

“My mother.”

Wynter slanted her head. “But she sided against you in the war, right?”

“It wasn’t quite as simple as that.”

She parted her lips as if to question him further, but whatever she saw on his face made her instead choose to hold back her words.

Azazel turned to Cain, claimed he had somewhere to be, and then excused himself.

Finally, Cain crossed to Wynter and allowed himself to touch her. He smoothed her hair over her shoulder and palmed the side of her neck. “It was hard for you. That scene.”

She averted her gaze. “It shouldn’t have been. It’s not like I thought they cared about me or anything. I already knew I meant nothing to them.”

“But you were hardly going to enjoy having a reminder of that, were you?”

“I suppose not,” she muttered. “Can we talk about something other than those assholes?”

Since he would much prefer to see the strain gone from her face, he didn’t push. “We can talk about how you were gone when I returned to my chamber this morning. I didn’t like it.” He bit her lip in punishment, and her pupils dilated. “You knew I wanted you to wait for me.”

“I would have been late for work if I’d stayed.”

He cupped her hips. “I would have made it worth it.”

Her mouth curved. “Probably, but I’m not going to allow you and your magickal cock to blind me.”

“Magickal?”

“I have responsibilities that I take seriously. And I know better than to give you your own way all the time in any case.”

Cain slid his hands up her back. “If I had my own way when it comes to you, you would be tied to my bed all day every day, ready for whenever I want you.”

“No, I really don’t think you would. I mean, it would be pretty hard for me to use the bathroom, and I don’t think you’d want me making a mess of your bed.”

“Hmm, maybe I would instead put you in chains, then. Chains long enough that you could make it to the bathroom.”

She frowned. “I don’t like how serious you look right now. I gotta say, it’s kind of freaking me out.”

“I doubt many things truly freak you out, little witch.” He kissed her softly, teasingly. “Come home with me.”

“Hmm, what’ll happen if I do?”

“I’ll make it worth your while in orgasms.”

“And soul-gasms?”

He felt his mouth quirk at the terminology. “Those, too.”

She splayed her hands on his chest. “All right, I’m in.”

Returning to the Keep after having a long meeting with Seth a few days later, Cain was met at the front entrance by Maxim. The aide informed him of a minor issue that had cropped up in his absence, adding, “Also, Ishtar arrived while you were with your brother. I explained that you might be a while, but she insisted on waiting for you. She is in the solar room.”

Cain felt the corners of his eyes tighten. For the most part, she’d given him the cold shoulder since he first got involved with Wynter. Apparently that phase was over, but he didn’t mistake that for Ishtar having shaken off her ‘funk,’ as Azazel called it. She pettily clung to the slightest of insults. To Ishtar, that he’d be sleeping with Wynter when he could instead be sharing a bed with her was an insult.

“Thank you, Maxim,” he said.

Cain headed for the solar, intent on getting this over with before Wynter arrived. As per usual, she would turn up at some point within the next half hour. He wondered if Ishtar was aware of that; wondered if the Ancient hoped to annoy his witch by being present when she arrived. It was the kind of childish thing that Ishtar was apt to do.

Entering the solar, he found her sitting on the sofa, casually dressed, her legs tucked underneath her, her face a mask of uncertainty. He held back a frown, wondering at her game. And this was a game. Ishtar never showed vulnerability unless it suited her agenda. She certainly didn’t dress in a simple get-up of jeans and a tee—that was more Wynter’s style. He inwardly sighed, sincerely tired of the never-ending plays that Ishtar made.

“Does anyone in your service have the ability to resurface a person’s lost memories?” she asked without bothering to greet him, as if too unsettled to waste time on formalities. “Since waking, I have noticed that there are many holes in my memories. As if they were suppressed during my Rest. I have already spoken with the other Ancients. They all said they know of no one who can help me.”


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