The general on my left, Raum, shoots me a confused glance. I shrug.
He leans forward, resting his forearms against the table. The overpowering scent of his power grows as his movement bringshim closer to me, and I fight the instinctual urge to hold my breath.
A general farther down the table clears his throat. “What, exactly, are you proposing, then?”
Rexton smiles, clearly pleased to have been asked. I resist the urge to roll my eyes. He’s so fucking transparent.
“I’m suggesting we buildwithinthe mountain,” he says. “We can carve out underground pathways, allowing us to protect the border without being seen. The mountain acts as natural insulation from the elements, and the cost to maintain will be significantly less than if we were to build camps atop the mountain.”
“What about the lava pits?” I ask. There are several underneath the mountain range, which is why we’ve never built into it.
“Mammon had researchers looking into the underground levels, and there are fewer than expected. There are several areas safe to build, and we should be taking advantage of that.” Rexton chews on his bottom lip. “If we don’t, Greed will.”
I swallow down a mouthful of bile. Raum flips his copy of today’s agenda over, then furiously begins to scribble notes. Two generals begin hammering Rexton with questions, eager to hear more about the cost and logistics. Nothing gets them moving faster than the threat of Greed beating us to something.
My hands are shaking, and I slip them underneath the table before anybody notices. My anger is growing, mounting and mounting until I’m forced to begin my calming exercises.
The table we sit at is solid wood, probably built around the time I was born. It’s smooth against my fingertips, and I like the sound it makes when I tap my nails against it. If I look underneath, I’ll find dozens of colorful scribbles from early childhood. Aziel occasionally brought me to meetings when childcare wasn’t an option, and I’d hide under the table drawing.
Those were my favorite days, even if I found Aziel’s meetings tedious.
I particularly enjoyed tugging on his pant legs and climbing onto his lap, but that stopped the day I got confused and accidentally scrambled up onto Raum’s lap. The war general looked just as horrified as I felt, and I wonder if that fateful day haunts him as it does me.
How can I expect the generals to take me seriously when they knew me as a young child? Has their perception of me changed? Aziel loves telling the story about how I once crouched in the corner of this very room, flushed and grunting as I took a shit in my diaper. He claims I held eye contact with several generals while doing so.
Rexton continues answering questions, never faltering. This is worse than my worst-case scenario, and it’s so fucking hard to maintain my neutral, easygoing expression. I need Rexton to believe I’m on his side, that I’m eager to forgive and form a friendship with him.
He’s not making it easy.
Chapter Twenty-Four
CASSIA
I’VE BEEN ALIVE for twenty-seven years, practically nothing in the eyes of a demon, but this month has been the worst of my life. I dread each day, and there are no signs of improvement.
It’s all Rexton’s fault.
Everything is Rexton’s fault.
He’s perfect. Every meeting he leads is succinct and valuable. In the ones he only sits in on, his input is clever and well-received. The Wraths are fucking obsessed with him. He’s polite, seemingly even kind, but he doesn’t let people walk over him. Not that many try. Rexton is confident, and he has the intelligence to back up his decisions.
Even Jassy grows giddy at the mention of him. She tries to hide it, but she does a poor job of it. I’m worried she’s going to leave me for him. It was so hard to convince her to leave Aziel, and if she leaves me for Rexton, I already know I’ll never win her back.
Rexton doesn’t seem to be letting any of the newfound attention get to his head. I can’t fathom why not. I’ve spent almost all my adult years fighting to earn the respect of theWraths, and if they suddenly looked at me the way they look at Rexton, I’d be on top of the world.
Rexton doesn’t appreciate it. It only makes me hate him more.
Demons eye me as I saunter into Aziel’s section of the building. I haven’t spoken to my father since he allowed Rexton to force me into submission, and I have no intention of changing that. He betrayed me, and I don’t take that lightly.
Rexton’s office is near Aziel’s, though, leaving me no choice but to venture this way. Was Rexton placed on the side of the building opposite me on purpose? I doubt it was coincidental, but I’m not going to complain. The more space between Rexton and me, the better.
Besides, Mom always says that absence makes the heart grow fonder. It’s another one of her human expressions I’ve never paid much attention to until now.
If I’m to earn Rexton’s trust, maybe even his affection, distance will be necessary. The more, the merrier—at least on my end. It’s hard enough to hide my true feelings for him during our short meetings together. I can’t fathom how I’d manage if we crossed paths outside them, too.
Rexton’s door is cracked open, revealing a sliver of his office. I can’t make out the interior from this angle, nor can I see him. I can sure smell him, though. His power seeps into the hallway, and I even detect hints of his body soap.
I mentally prepare myself, steeling my resolve and reminding myself to play nice, before knocking on the door.
