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Relief tumbled through Cain. While the result of the vote wouldn’t have led to him giving up his consort in any case, it would have meant he was at odds with the other Ancients if they had supported Ishtar—that was something he didn’t want. As for him being at odds with Ishtar, well, that was nothing new.
“If anyone gets it in their head that they could slyly hand Wynter over to the Aeons without my knowledge”—Cain gave Ishtar a pointed look, not prepared to put it past her—“they should push that idea right back out of their mind.”
Again, Lilith nodded. “We cannot fall into the trap of betraying each other. If we do that, we will cause our own demise.”
Ishtar wrung her hands. “I just cannot stand the thought of the prison becoming smaller than it already is.”
“It won’t,” Inanna assured her.
“What if we cannot lure Abel or Adam here for us to launch an attack?” asked Ishtar, twisting her fingers. “What if they never declare war? What then?”
Then the Ancients would have to resign themselves to being imprisoned until their dying day. And Ishtar was right about one thing—that fate likely would result in them all going insane, and the whole of Devil’s Cradle would sadly pay dearly for that.
“You’re quiet this morning.”
Looking up from her cup of coffee, Wynter shrugged at Cain. “Just thinking.”
Sitting opposite her at the table in his chamber, he stared into her eyes with that laser focus that often made her scalp prickle. “Tell me you’re not stressing over what I told you last night.”
Wynter felt her nose wrinkle. “I wouldn’t say I’m ‘stressing,’ just . . . pondering.” Hearing he’d spoken with Abel had been a shock. Learning of Abel’s ultimatum had made her stomach churn. She hadn’t anticipated that the Aeon would make such a sly move, even knowing he was a cunning piece of shit.
Last night, her main concern had been Cain and how difficult it must have been for him—even if only on a subconscious level—to again be face-to-face with Abel. His jailor. His adversary. His brother who had never been a brother.
Although Cain had seemed fine, she’d been more focused on ensuring it wasn’t an act than on considering Abel’s threat. It wasn’t until Cain had drifted off to sleep beside her that the aforementioned threat had slipped to the forefront of her mind. She’d spent hours chewing on it before finally falling asleep. And now it was pushing for headspace once more.
“No one is going to sacrifice you to the Aeons, Wynter,” said Cain.
She snorted. “Ishtar would do it in a heartbeat.” With pleasure. And likely do a celebratory dance afterward.
“She might try, but only if she could first convince the majority of the other Ancients to agree to support her in it.”
Wynter wasn’t so sure of that. Ishtar could be mightily impulsive at times, and she had a vindictive streak a mile wide. She’d think nothing of crossing Cain on this; might even convince herself she’d done it for the good of the Ancients as a whole.
“Kali warned you that someone could potentially betray you,” Wynter reminded him. “Maybe She meant Ishtar.”
Cain leaned forward and rested his hand on hers, his unwavering gaze snaring her own. “Listen to me, Wynter. Ishtar can be a bitch for certain. She wants you gone from here, yes. And she’d for sure obliterate you if she could get away with it. But she won’t go behind the backs of other Ancients to sacrifice you, particularly not mine. She knows I’d end her. Ishtar does many stupid things, pushes many people’s buttons, but she does value her life.”
“Maybe so, but that doesn’t mean she won’t pull a sneaky move or two. She could try working on the other Ancients. She could attempt to convince them to see things her way.”
“She could make such an attempt. She probably will.” Cain didn’t sound too concerned about it. “It wouldn’t get her anywhere.”
“And if you’re wrong?” Wynter set her mug down on the table between them. “If the majority of the Ancients change their stance and vote that I should be handed over to the Aeons, what happens then?”
“Simple. I’ll kill each of the voters,” he said matter-of-factly.
She believed him, but . . . “Not if they killed you first. They might do that if they feel backed into a corner.”
“They could try. They would fail.”
The absolute certainty in his voice made her narrow her eyes. “Does that mean the rumor that you’re the most powerful of the seven is true?”
“Yes,” he replied.
Wynter blinked in surprise. She hadn’t expected him to respond, let alone give her a straight answer. He was evasive about so many things, big and small, that she never quite knew what he’d gloss over and what he’d reveal without a qualm. “But if several Ancients went up against you—”
“They wouldn’t live through it.” Cain squeezed her hand. “Hear me, Wynter. They will not ignore my warnings or make any moves against me. I wouldn’t say that if I wasn’t sure. I would instead chain you to the bed to be certain that they had no way to get to you.”
“You really do think of chaining me to the bed far too often. I just want to note that.”
