Bracing her elbows on the dining table, Wynter rubbed her temples. “Xavier, I can’t keep doing this with you.”
“You wouldn’t have to if you’d only shove logic aside for a minute,” he said, leaning forward in his seat. “In the grand scheme of things, what does it really matter if an Alpha lycan goes ‘missing?’”
Wynter dropped her hands to the table. “It will matter to his pack. A lot.”
“Or they’ll be thrilled that someone else gets the chance to be Alpha. Did you ever think of that? I could be doing them a favor.”
“A favor?” echoed Delilah in a mocking tone. “Really?” Stood at the stove with Anabel as they worked on a new batch of a particular potion, Delilah shook her head and gave him her back.
“Yes, really,” clipped Xavier.
Wynter sighed. Getting through to the guy could sometimes be a trial. “As I’ve said before several times, whatever Ancient has rights to Elias’s soul wouldn’t be happy if anything happened to him. The Ancients don’t take kindly to anyone screwing with their ‘property.’”
He snorted. “That didn’t stop you from trapping two berserkers in the netherworld.”
Yeah, well, they weren’t talking about Wynter.
“Ooh, we could toss Elias in there, too,” he suggested, his eyes brightening.
“I only dumped Annette and Bowen there because they would otherwise have blabbed my secrets.” Well, that and she’d wanted them to suffer some. “This situation you have with Elias is very different.”
“He ruined my date, Wynter. He told her I’d lied about my name—”
“Well, you did.”
“—that I wasn’t really Italian—”
“Well, you’re not.”
“—and that I was a chronic liar whose word couldn’t be trusted.”
“You honestly disagree with that assessment?”
Xavier’s mouth flattened. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”
She reached across the table and put her hand over his. “I’m always on your side. You’re one of the best people I know, even if you do mix fact and fiction often. But you can’t kill someone just because they annoy you.”
“Why? I used to do it all the time.”
“And that’s why you have a price on your head. Look, I get that growing up practicing the dark arts means you still struggle with ethics at times. But if you truly mean to follow the right-hand path, you can’t take detours from it whenever it suits you. If it’s a life or death situation, fine. But this is not. You have to learn to handle mundane shit without resorting to acts like murder.”
Shuffling past the table, Hattie paused long enough to say, “She’s right, darlin’. Various people will wrong or upset you many times in your life. Killing them isn’t the answer.”
Xavier cast her look of disbelief. “Says the woman who poisoned each of her husbands.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” asked Hattie, her brow wrinkling.
“It has everything to do with it,” he insisted.
Hattie huffed and continued walking toward the living room. “You’re just trying to shift the focus of the conversation onto me. I’m wise to your tricks, boy.”
Cutting his gaze back to Wynter, he jabbed his thumb in the old woman’s direction. “So it’s okay to you that she killed in situations that weren’t matters of self-defense?”
“No, it’s not,” replied Wynter. “But she did all that before becoming part of our crew—”
“Coven.”
“—so I’m not holding her responsible for any of it, much like I don’t hold the rest of you responsible for what you did in the past. It’s the present and the future that count.”
Anabel gave a little clap. “Well said.”
Delilah raised her index finger. “Apart from when you referred to us as a crew. We’re a coven. Get with the program already.”
“Why do you have—?” Wynter cut off on hearing a knock at the front door. Sighing, she got to her feet. “I’ll see who it is.” On the other side of the door, she found one of the local dragon shifters. And he looked the image of devastation. “Jesus, is everything okay?” Wynter asked him.
He sniffled. “No. I need to speak with Delilah.”
Her scalp prickled with unease. Praying this situation wasn’t what she thought it was, Wynter said, “Um, okay. Del, you have a visitor!”
Moments later, Delilah appeared at her side and tipped her chin at the shifter. “Oh, hey.”
“Oh. Hey?” He shook his head. “What did you do to me?”
Delilah blinked. “Excuse me?”
“That potion you gave me … All I wanted was my mate to be a little less butch.”
Wynter closed her eyes. Oh, dear God.
“I did what you said—I swilled it in my mouth and then kissed her. The next thing I know, it’s like I’ve been downing estrogen pills.”
Delilah gave him a haughty look. “I warned you there might be side effects.”
“Side effects? I’ve lost ten pounds, I’m growing boobs, my voice is getting all high, and I can’t stop crying.” His voice broke.
“Sounds rough. How awful for you.”
“It has been rough.” He wafted his hands as his eyes teared up. “I need this to be over.”
Wynter slammed her gaze on Delilah. “I cannot believe you.”
The woman gave her a look that was all innocence.
Anabel appeared and handed Wynter a reversal potion. “Here.”
Taking it gratefully, Wynter held it out to the dragon shifter.
“Thank you,” he all but sobbed. He knocked back the potion and closed his eyes. When he opened them again a few moments later, they were blazing with anger. He pointed a finger at Delilah. “You—”
“Will happily tell your mate that you not only find her ‘too manly’ for you but you actually asked for a potion to change her,” said Delilah. “Would you like that?”
Panic rippled across his face.
Wynter held up a hand. “Look, I’m sorry for what happened to you. I truly am. But if you hadn’t tried using magick on your mate without her knowledge, you wouldn’t have suffered any side effects. Delilah informed you it wouldn’t be a good idea, correct?”
He stiffly and reluctantly inclined his head. “Correct.”
“But you took a chance. You paid the price. It’s truly that simple. Now, I figure you’ve suffered enough, so I see no reason why your mate has to learn about this … so long as you walk away right now without insisting on making Delilah pay.”
He averted his gaze, and moments of silence went by. Finally, he grunted. “Fine. But don’t ever expect more custom from me.” With that, he barged down the path and exited the yard, slamming the gate closed behind him.
Shutting the front door, Wynter whirled on Delilah. “You did it again? Seriously? I told you not to sell any more of those damn potions.”
Delilah frowned. “Can I help it that karma chooses to flow through me to do its work?”
Wynter snorted. “Karma hasn’t chosen you to do shit. This has nothing to do with balancing the scales of justice—”
“It is absolutely about justice. My family follows the teachings of Annis. I know you don’t think much of her because of some of her … darker deeds, but she was strong and powerful and ballsy and beautiful.”
Anabel frowned. “Didn’t she have one eye, crooked teeth, and bluish skin?”
Delilah stared at the blonde for a long moment. “Beautiful on the inside.”
Wynter scrubbed a hand down her face. “Look, I understand that you want to respect and honor the teachings of your ancestors—I don’t like it, given one of them ate children, but I get it. However, what you’re doing isn’t okay, Del.”
“You can’t tell me that dude didn’t deserve what happened to him. He talked like destiny had short-changed him by giving him a mate that wasn’t very feminine.”
“Which makes him an asshole, sure,” Wynter allowed. “But he’s an asshole who could kill you—that’s my issue. Dragons can exhale fire.”
Anabel let out a low whistle. “Wow, talk about death’s breath—”
“No, I don’t have the patience for your neurosis right now,” snapped Del, whipping up her hand.
“I don’t have a neurosis!”
“That’s right. You have several.”
Wynter swiped a hand through the air. “Both of you stop. Now listen to me, Del. I need you to stop selling those potions here. We’re not on the move anymore. We’re here to stay, and there are a whole lot of dangerous people in this place. Stop tempting them to kill you. God, between you and Xavier, it’ll be a sheer miracle if our crew isn’t wiped out at some point.”
“Not crew, co—”
“And I’m done.” Wynter went up to her room, packed an overnight bag, and then returned downstairs. “I’m heading out. Try not to do anything stupid while I’m gone.”
Delilah saluted her. “Sure thing, Priestess.”
“Don’t do that.”
“Cain must rock in bed for you to stay with him every night.” Delilah grinned. “I’ll bet he fucks like an animal. I’m right, aren’t I? Come on, Wyn, be a sweetie and give us some details.”
“Like I’ve told you before, you’ll just have to use your imagination. Now I’m going. Behave. All of you.”
Delilah blew her a kiss. “Later, Priestess.”
“Stop it.”
*
Gathered in Cain’s ledger room, he and the other Ancients spent hours discussing battle plans, bouncing ideas back and forth until they finally settled on a particular course of action. It would involve every resident of Devil’s Cradle. Most would be part of the battle. Others would be responsible for guarding the elevator that descended to the underground city in the unlikely event that any invaders managed to enter the mansion.
If the Aeons had the ability to collapse the town and crush the city below it, they would definitely do so. But the land above and below was too well-protected by power, just as Aeon itself was. As such, the Aeons would likely order their troops to do the next best thing—overrun the town like ants, search for the entrance to the city, and destroy both.
They’d fail.
The Ancients would make sure of it.
“We each need to pass on our plans to those in our service, ensuring they all know in advance exactly where they need to be and what they need to be doing when the Aeons finally make their move,” said Cain.
He planned to convince Wynter to stay in the city and guard the lowest level of the elevator. How, he wasn’t yet sure. His witch was a warrior right down to the bone.
Seth nodded. “We should not delay in that. The Aeons could strike at any time.”
Ishtar sniffed. “I hope they do it soon. I tire of waiting.”
Dantalion leaned back in his seat. “I predict that a great many of their troops will be mercenaries. After all, the Aeons will need to feel sure that they have large enough numbers to take on our population, but they’re hardly likely to risk a large number of their own population even if they are certain of success.”
“I agree.” Azazel folded his arms. “More and more people in our service are arriving. They’re prepared to fight alongside us, even if they don’t much like it.”
That was the thing about selling your soul. If the Ancient who owned it called on you for anything, you had no choice but to obey. But that wasn’t something that the Ancients advertised, and any in their service were ordered to keep it quiet. As such, the Aeons wouldn’t be prepared for outsiders to come and join the battle.
The Ancients hadn’t called on all their people. Why? When they won the war—and they would—some invaders would scuttle back to Aeon with tales of what happened. The Ancients didn’t want their enemies to know just how large a force they could build, or the Aeons who came to avenge the dead would bring an army big enough to overwhelm them.
“The healers need to be placed sporadically around the town during the battle,” said Inanna. “They will not be asked to be fight, they can remain hidden, but they will need to be of help to any injured residents.”
“Where will your new pet witch be?” Ishtar asked Cain. “Tucked up somewhere safe, I suppose.” She tittered.
Unwilling to grant her the angry reaction she hoped for, Cain merely gave her a blank look and said, “You don’t need to know my plans for Wynter. She’s not your concern.”
Ishtar stiffened. “On the contrary, she is the concern of every person in this room.”
Inanna sighed at her sister. “Let us not do this.”
“Do what?” Ishtar shrugged one shoulder, all innocence. “I asked a simple question.”
Cain fired her a bored glance. “You asked a question you knew I wouldn’t answer, and you did it so you’d have an excuse to whine and moan and complain.”
Seth offered him a look of commiseration. “I suspect she’s still sulking over what you said to her at my Keep.”
“I am not sulking or whining or anything else,” Ishtar upheld.
Lilith lifted her hands. “Can we please stop arguing amongst ourselves? It’s not unusual at meetings, no, but any conflict between us right now is a weakness we can’t afford.”
Ishtar sniffed. “I am merely curious as to where Cain intends to place the witch.”
“There’s no reason for you to know where Wynter will be,” he said.
“Oh, I see. You think I will send someone to kill her.” Ishtar lifted her chin. “I prefer to do my own dirty work, as you well know. But I can understand why you would nonetheless take precautions. As I pointed out the other day, mortals are so very fragile. You will need to constantly take measures to ensure she is safe from the dangers of the world. I would personally find it both boring and tiring. It would be like supervising a child.”
Cain only stared at her, keeping his expression blank.
Her mouth tightened in annoyance. “I wonder … has it occurred to you that she might have wangled her way into your bed so that you would protect her this way? In your position, I would have to ask myself if she was in fact using me. Even someone like you can be played. Just ask Azazel. Not even he was exempt from that.”
Azazel’s eyes flared. “Don’t go there, Ishtar,” he warned, his tone dark. “Not unless you want me to strike back.”
“So sensitive,” she mocked. “And there is nothing for you to strike back with in this matter. No man has ever played me.”
“Sure they have,” said Azazel, a cruel smirk touching his mouth. “They do it all the time. You think men really want to shower you with the unreasonable amount of attention they give you? You think it’s pure adoration that makes them go that far? No, it’s that they know you need that from them. They’re doing what they have to do to worm their way into your bed. They simply want to get laid. That’s why the attention eases off over time, Ishtar. Once they’ve had their fun, they cease making an effort.”
Predictably, she lashed out with a small blast of pure power. Azazel sidestepped it easily with a snicker, the door behind him unexpectedly opened … and the power wacked the person in the doorway.
Cain watched as Wynter sucked in a pained breath when the power punched into her body, roughly arching her spine until it cracked, and causing fine fractures to spiderweb across her flesh. Her mouth opened in a silent scream, every muscle tensing, every vein cording … and then she collapsed to the floor. She lay there, her eyes open, unseeing. Vacant. Lifeless.
Behind her, Maxim leaned over her and touched her pulse. Swallowing, he looked up at Cain and shook his head.
Shock gripped Cain by the throat, scattering his thoughts, leaving him unable to process what had just happened. But then the monster inside him reared up in a blinding rage, driving the shock from his mind. Reality slammed into him like a fist to his gut and—that fast—a savage, explosive fury whipped through him, pulling his lips back in a snarl.
Blanching, Ishtar stared at him, shaking her head. “Cain, I didn’t mean it. I didn’t know she was here. I didn’t kill her on purpose, I swear.”
Inanna stepped in front of her sister. “It was an accident, Cain. The blast wasn’t meant for the witch.”
No, it wasn’t. And yes, Ishtar had aimed for Azazel—who’d have no more than flinched at the impact. But the bitch was gloating. Cain could sense it. So could his monster, who wanted out, wanted to kill. Cain’s skin rippled as the change began to—
“Ow,” muttered Wynter.
He slammed his gaze on her, shock once more stealing his breath as she awkwardly sat upright. His monster stilled, not understanding what it was they were seeing.
At her side, Maxim gawked at her, looking lost.
Wynter’s gaze went straight to Ishtar and narrowed dangerously. But that wasn’t what made Cain’s stomach drop. It was the black trails that began to slink over her eyeballs.
Wynter blinked rapidly and took a deep centering breath. And another. And another. Finally, the black ribbons gone from her eyes, she shot Ishtar a put-out look while pushing to her feet. “Well, that was uncalled for.”
Cain could only stare at her. He might have wondered if Maxim had been wrong; if he’d mistakenly missed that her pulse was still beating. But the mark that had appeared on the side of her face told him a different story. It was one he’d recognize fucking anywhere. A metallic blue snake in the shape of an S, its mouth open wide near the corner of her eye.
The mark of Kali.
If the deity felt that the death of a witch was an injustice, Kali occasionally sent the witch back long enough to get their revenge. To aid them with that, She placed the soul of one of Her many netherworld creatures inside the witch’s body—together, the two wreaked vengeance on those who’d caused the injustice.
Cain slowly crossed to Wynter, so many things now making sense. And yet, nothing made sense. Not really.
She met his gaze as steadily as always—no uncertainty, no nerves, no sheepishness despite the situation. Cain couldn’t help but admire that.
He slanted his head. “How? How can you be … you? Revenants aren’t even really people.”
They didn’t sleep. They weren’t sane. They didn’t have a heartbeat. They were literally undead witches that acted as a temporary vessel for something monstrous. Wynter might have an undead soul, but her body wasn’t a walking corpse.
Lilith looked from Wynter to Cain. “You knew nothing of this?” she asked him.
“No.” And he hated that he’d made the discovery this way. That it hadn’t been a case of Wynter trusting him with her secret. That he’d had to watch her fucking die. “When did Kali make you a revenant?”
“When I was ten,” Wynter replied. “And yet you still live?” Ishtar shook her head, scoffing, “Impossible. Absolutely impossible.”
“Evidently not,” said Dantalion, staring at Wynter with renewed interest. “You saw her monster try to surface, Ishtar. We all did.”
Cain squinted at Wynter. “So it was Kali who brought you back after those boys killed you.”
Wynter nodded.
Seth frowned. “You said your mother brought you back.”
Wynter cut her gaze to him. “No, I said she was accused of, and exiled for, bringing me back using forbidden magick. I never said she actually did it.”
Thinking back, Cain realized she was right. She’d let them make their own conclusions. And they had, not bothering to question her further.
“It was your monster who eviscerated your murderers,” Azazel guessed, to which she nodded. “If your death was avenged, how is it that you’re still here? It is only a need for vengeance that tethers a revenant’s soul to this realm. After they attain it, both the witch and the monster return to the netherworld.”
“All I know is that there’s something Kali wants me to do for Her,” Wynter told him. “She never said what. Or when. Or anything else. Only that I’d ‘one day know.’ She’s never bothered to expand on that.”
Even as Cain heard the ring of truth in Wynter’s voice, he couldn’t understand how she could be in the dark about so many things. But then, all things considered, it wasn’t really all that unbelievable. He’d encountered deities before. They were cryptic beings who were so secretive they made the Ancients seem like open books. They’d think nothing of keeping even one of their Favored ignorant of any facts they didn’t wish them to be aware of—and they’d see no real wrong in that.
Seth wandered closer, tracing her mark with his eyes. “How do you hide it? Why would you? And why would Kali allow it?”
“I don’t conceal the mark; She does,” Wynter replied. “And no, before you ask, I have no clue why. She makes it visible occasionally, when it seems to suit whatever purposes She has.”
Cain’s monster pressed more firmly against his skin, thoroughly enthralled by the mystery of their witch. “I’ve never seen you eat flesh or drink blood.”
“Yeah, I don’t do that,” she said.
Azazel eyed her curiously. “How can the entity inside you survive without it?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know; it just can.”
Inanna folded her arms. “Why didn’t you tell us what you are?”
“You know why,” said Wynter. “You’re all at the top of the power food chain. You don’t have natural predators. You’re not used to having people around you that could be a danger to you. Revenants can kill anything.”
Why yes, they could. In truth, they could do many, many things—cause diseases, plagues, blight, misfortune, and physical defects but to name a few. They could also curse absolutely anything or anyone.
“That’s why no one can fight the curse you placed on Aeon,” Dantalion realized. “Does anyone there know what you are?”
Wynter shook her head. “Kali told me I mustn’t tell, so I didn’t.”
Ishtar’s eyes narrowed. “She didn’t want us to know the truth either?”
“She said She’d reveal to you all that I was one of her Favored if She felt it necessary,” Wynter told her. “It would appear that She felt it necessary.”
“She talks to you?” Ishtar asked Wynter, her tone doubtful.
“Sometimes,” Wynter replied.
“And what is it that She says to you?”
Wynter’s expression shuttered. “Nothing you need to know.”
Ishtar’s face hardened. “I would have to disagree.”
“Disagree all you want. I don’t owe you explanations, and I won’t give you any.”
“You should if you wish to stay here. You cannot expect us to allow you to live among us when we do not fully understand what you are.”
Wynter snorted. “That’s rich coming from an Ancient. Everyone in Devil’s Cradle is expected to accept that there are things we can’t know about all of you.”
“You are not an Ancient, so that rule does not apply to you. You will tell us what we want to know.”
“Enough, Ishtar,” Cain cut in, his rage still on a low simmer inside him.
Ishtar sliced her gaze to him. “You cannot tell me you are happy for her to hold back from us. We are due an explanation.”
“She has explained,” he pointed out. “It is not her fault that she does not possess all the answers.”
“She knows more than what she says.”
“Perhaps. But if Kali has ordered her to keep such things to herself, no amount of pressuring her will achieve anything.” Not only would Wynter stand firm out of loyalty, but the deity would interfere as She saw fit. “Other than annoy Kali, that is.”
Azazel nodded, staring at Ishtar. “And considering you’ve pissed Her off enough by killing one of Her Favored, I’d say that bitching at Wynter wouldn’t be the best idea.”
Ishtar frowned at him. “You are not concerned about what you’ve learned here?” She searched every face. “It bothers no one here that we have a revenant among us?”
“It was a shock, of course,” said Seth. “A huge shock. It is not every day you meet a revenant, and I hadn’t thought it was possible for one to be so … different. But I don’t feel a need to be concerned, no. Her being a revenant doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t negatively impact me. And the situation we have with the Aeons remains the same. It is them I intend to focus on. You should do the same.”
“But, as she herself proclaimed, a revenant can kill anything,” Ishtar reminded him. “Even us.”
“Yes,” he allowed, “but just because she can hurt us doesn’t mean she intends to. Wynter is not our enemy.”
“You don’t know that. The Aeons could have sent her here.”
“If she meant to kill us, she would have attempted it already.”
“Agreed,” Lilith interjected. “Wynter has had plenty of opportunities to end Cain’s life, I’m sure, given they sleep in the same bed. Yet, he remains unharmed. She has made no overt moves on the rest of us either.”
Ishtar’s lips flattened. “You cannot tell me it is fine with you that she insists on being so mysterious.”
“I see no need to hold her accountable for not being able to answer our questions,” said Lilith. “Whether it’s because she has no answers or because Kali forbids her from sharing certain things, the fact of the matter remains the same—it is out of Wynter’s hands.”
Ishtar’s gaze danced from face to face, narrowing as it settled on Azazel. “You are uneasy with this.”
Azazel sighed. “I am. I don’t like that Kali seems to be working off-script and keeping the whys of that to Herself. But … do I care that Wynter’s a revenant? No. Do I believe she’s here on behalf of the Aeons? No. Do I see the point in getting het up about any of this? No.”
Letting out a little growl, Ishtar whirled to face her sister. “Tell me at least you have concerns.”
Inanna rubbed at her wrist. “I admit, I am not comfortable with how little we understand of Wynter. But it is senseless to hold what she is against her. And if we did that, it would make us too much like the Aeons themselves, who do not like or accept what they struggle to understand.”
“Hear, hear,” said Dantalion before moving his gaze to Ishtar. “And if your ego wasn’t still smarting due to Wynter sharing Cain’s bed, you would not stoop to their level. No, don’t try claiming that this isn’t about your ego. Most everything you do or say is about your ego. Let this moment here and now be an exception. If you would only look at the situation from my point of view, you would see we have reason to be pleased that there is a revenant among us.”
“Pleased?” Ishtar echoed, her eyes bulging.
“It would seem that Kali has given us a weapon,” said Dantalion. “We deserve our revenge, do we not? Nothing delivers vengeance quite like a revenant.”
“Wynter isn’t a weapon,” Cain said to him, his voice hard.
His mouth curving, Dantalion raised his hands in a gesture of peace that had no real sincerity in it.
As it occurred to Cain that Wynter had been remarkably quiet for the past few minutes, he looked at her. Her arms folded, she was idly rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet, the image of bored … even as that hunter stare tracked every person in the room.
Needing to be alone with her right now, Cain flicked his arm. “Everyone out. Except you,” he said to Wynter. “You stay.”
Ishtar gaped. “You cannot be serious. You still want her close after all you have just learned?”
His nostrils flaring, Cain stalked toward the bitch, liking the unease that flashed in her eyes. “You should be much nicer to Wynter. It is only the fact that she lives that means you live. If her death had been intentional, I would have destroyed you on the spot. Not even Inanna could have saved you.”
Inanna gently pulled on her sister’s arm. “Let us go. Now, before you do or say anything else that could well get you killed.”
One by one, the Ancients filed out of the office.
Pinning Maxim with a look, Cain said, “You will say nothing of what you saw and heard here.”
The aide nodded. “Understood, Sire.” He gave Wynter a quick dip of the chin and then closed the door, giving her and Cain privacy.
She puffed out a breath. “That could have gone better.” She let her arms fall to her sides. “Look, I’ll understand if you’re a little freaked out by all this. I admit, it’s a lot to take in and—”
Cain delved his hands into her hair and pressed his forehead to hers. “I thought you were gone. It all happened so fast. You were fine, and then you weren’t. Just like that. It took me a few seconds to process it. That delay in my response is the only reason Ishtar lives. She had struck out at Azazel and hit you accidentally. But that didn’t matter to me right then. I couldn’t think beyond the fact that you were dead.” A revenant. His woman was a revenant. Who kept coming back to life. “Not much about you makes any sense.”
“Tell me about it,” she muttered.
“You truly don’t know what Kali wants you to do for Her?”
“Truly. She didn’t even tell me that much until I turned eighteen. Before then, I thought maybe I had a certain amount of lives. Like a cat. Because I came back to life after accidentally drowning when I was fourteen.”
“You haven’t pushed Kali for answers?”
“I asked Her for clarification once or twice, but She blew me off each time. I haven’t bugged Her to tell me because it would only irritate Her. I’d rather not inspire Kali to get Herself a new sort-of-revenant who won’t ask questions.”
Cain studied her face closely. “There are some things you’re not telling me, aren’t there?”
“At Her insistence, yes. I have no choice in that.”
Fucking deities. “Does your coven know what you are? And no, don’t call them a crew.”
Wynter rolled her eyes. “They know. They saw my monster in action when I was taken by the same bounty hunters that caught them.”
“You freed them, and they chose to stay with you,” he guessed.
“Yes. A seemingly bad idea, really. But none of them have a strong sense of self-preservation, which I’m sure has not escaped your notice.”
No, it hadn’t. “I caught a glimpse of your monster when you woke just now. I wonder what Kali put inside you. Nothing harmless, I’d imagine. Did it kill the keeper who was told to execute you?”
“Yup. I don’t know exactly what it did to him, though. It’s like I black out whenever the monster takes over. I can only try to piece together what happened.”
“Guessing games are no fun.” Cain knew that well—he’d been playing them since he first met her. “You’ve kept many, many things from me, little witch.” He pressed a kiss to her throat. And another. And another. He scraped his teeth over her pulse, wanting to feel it beat against his mouth. “Hypocrite though it makes me, I find myself wanting to spank you for it.” He palmed her ass and gave it a squeeze.
She blinked. “Are you … are you thinking about sex right now?”
He felt his mouth curve. “Do I find it strangely arousing that you could kill me if you so wished? Yes, I do.” As did his monster. And they both needed to remind themselves that she was here, alive. “So I’d say it’s time that I fucked you.”
She gaped at him. “You can’t honestly be serious.”
“Oh, I’m very serious.”
“But … you’re supposed to be weirded out. Freaked. Put-off by the fact that I’m not even really alive—at least not in a natural way.”
Cain almost snorted. She might be a revenant, but he was a far worse creature. In any case … “Nothing about you could put me off.”
Her mouth bopped open and closed. She put her hands to her head. “I have no clue what to say to you right now.”
He cupped her jaw. “Did you want me to be ‘freaked,’ as you put it?”
“Of course not.”
“Then all is good.” He took her mouth, swallowing anything else she might have said. “Get naked. Now.”
Giving him a look that called him crazy, she nonetheless began to strip. “You need help. Like professional help.”
“I warned you that you’d one day want to run from me. You told me it wouldn’t happen. If you truly believe that there’s nothing I could tell you about myself that would make you no longer want me, why can’t the same apply to me when it comes to you?”
She stilled, her expression pensive.
“You don’t have the same faith in me that you have in yourself?”
“It’s not that, it’s … ugh, you know what? Fine. If you say you’re not freaked, I believe you. But I still say you need professional help.”
“Noted. Now you’re still not naked. Let’s fix that.”
