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“Proudly,” said Ishtar.
Saul glanced at each Ancient. “I am not afraid to die. Do your worst.”
“We’re not going to kill you,” Cain told him. “Not yet anyway. Not for a very long time, in fact. We have . . . other plans for you.” And some questions as well, but they’d get to that later.
Saul snarled and again tried struggling against the grips of the hands holding him.
“I really wouldn’t bother trying to free yourself, if I were you,” Dantalion advised. “The only place you are going is Azazel’s dungeon. We all wanted to have you at our own Keeps, but it was Azazel who pulled your name out of the hat, so . . .”
Saul bared his teeth. “I will get free.”
Inanna let out a mock tut, tut. “Such wishful thinking.”
Lilith cocked her head as she stared down at Saul like he was no more than a bug. “You only have yourself to blame for this. You should not have come here. You certainly should not have stayed. But I am rather glad that you did. Having a prisoner to regularly torture will spice things up nicely.”
Saul’s glare landed on Cain. “You are too late to save your witch. She is already dead.”
Cain’s heart jumped. His creature froze. But a brief touch to her soul was enough to confirm for them that the Aeon was lying.
Saul chuckled. “Yes, I killed her. Again. I mauled her using a wolf shifter. Fucking enjoyed it, too.”
“He’s baiting you, Cain,” Seth warned. “Wynter’s probably fine. He’s blurting this shit out because he wants you to end him here and now.”
Cain unlocked his back teeth. “It would be a sincere pleasure to do so. But it will be far more enjoyable to subject you to an eternity of unendurable agony. First, though, we need you unconscious. You’ll only make a fuss otherwise.”
Cain pulled back and gave his creature partial supremacy.
*
Anabel shoved a healing potion into Wynter’s hand. “Here, drink this.”
Gladly. She was covered in minor wounds, thanks to the wolf shifter that Saul had used to attack her. No one had tried launching at her over the past thirty seconds or so, though, which meant . . . “Either he’s lulling us into a false sense of security or the Ancients have him.” Wynter downed the healing potion.
“Or he’s done a runner again,” said Xavier.
Wynter tensed as a gust of wind transformed into a swarm of locusts near the woods up ahead. “They have him.” She didn’t even think about what she did next. She just skirted the counter and then rushed straight for the forest. Her coven followed—Hattie and Delilah now in their animal forms.
Wynter ran in the general direction of where the wind had turned to locusts, noticing Hattie fly off ahead of them. The crow soon backtracked and then led them to where she must have spotted the Ancients. They all slowed when Hattie landed on a branch. Delilah slunk out of the shadows, still a monstrous feline.
Studying the scene ahead of them, Wynter almost smiled. Saul was pinned to the ground like a damn butterfly, utterly helpless and surrounded by the Ancients.
He was also laughing, his gaze fixed on Cain. “Yes, I killed her. Again. I mauled her using a wolf shifter. Fucking enjoyed it, too.”
“He’s baiting you, Cain,” said Seth. “Wynter’s probably fine. He’s blurting this shit out because he wants you to end him here and now.”
She sent out a silent thanks to Seth, knowing that Cain would be pissed at himself later if he fell for this crap.
“It would be a sincere pleasure to do so,” said Cain. “But it will be far more enjoyable to subject you to an eternity of unendurable agony. First, though, we need you unconscious. You’ll only make a fuss otherwise.”
She frowned as Cain’s muscles tightened, his face blanked, and his eyes . . . fuck, his eyes. No, not his eyes. Something else was looking out at Saul.
Her breath caught. Her stomach bottomed out. Her scalp prickled.
Whatever lived within Cain bent over, gripped Saul by his hair, and lifted him high, effortlessly wrenching him out of the other Ancients’ holds. Its face morphed into a snarl as it savagely bit into his throat.
Jesus Christ.
Saul cried out, writhing. His struggles weakened and weakened until, finally, he slumped. Dead? Unconscious? Wynter didn’t know.
