Page 183 of Wicked Bonds


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His old friend sighed, shaking his blond head. “We both know I’m not in a good place to rule right now, B.” His emerald eyes swirled with truth. “I’m in too dark a place to make appropriate and logical decisions right now.”

“You may be in a dark place,” Balthazar agreed, feeling the fury in his aura. “But your logic is always sound.”

Luc considered him for a moment. “Yes, perhaps. However, I keep second-guessing myself and my decisions. I need… a clear head.”

Balthazar fell quiet, aware of what his friend desired. It was right there on the cusp of his thoughts, the request for a reprieve. However, he knew that now was quite possibly the worst time to escape for a moment to recharge.

Hence, he’d remained.

But each moment, his psyche worsened, his anger overcoming his ability to be patient.

Luc needed a temporary break from making decisions. A moment to himself to grieve. To rage. To hate the world.

A mental refresh.

And he needed Balthazar to lead in his absence.

Jay was too busy with fatherhood to take the throne.

Alik was too bitter for it.

Leaving Balthazar as the only true option.

For how long?he wanted to ask. But he knew his old friend wouldn’t be able to reply with a timeline. He would leave for as long as it took to regain control of his emotions and logical mind.

B,Leela whispered, her focus still on the windows.Osiris just misted in.

Balthazar immediately followed her gaze, noting the clapping Seraphim by the tree. Luc’s attention shifted as well, but he didn’t seem surprised by the arrival.

Because he’d called him—a fact Balthazar learned from his and Mateo’s minds.

They’d reached out to him, wanting him to explain reformation to Adriel. A sound plan, except the original Seraphim of Life and Resurrection hadn’t shown up in time to be of much help. Instead, his granddaughter had done the job for him.

Which he appeared to be quite proud of now.

The olive tones of his bald head glimmered in the moonlight, the gleam creating a false halo around his scalp.

A fitting ornament for a Seraphim.

But there was nothing angelic about this male or his soul.

Balthazar went to the door, wanting to hear their conversation.

The others followed, joining him outside as Osiris said, “Now, can you re-create that power and use it on an entire island of Seraphim?”

Stas blinked at him, too stunned by his appearance, or perhaps what she’d just accomplished, to speak. Her mind whirred with confusion, her power indescribable. But she knew she’d brought the Seraphim to heel through a form of rebirth, by forcing them to feel. She just had no idea how she’d done it.

In anger.

In desperation.

In exhaustion.

All were possible causes in her mind, but Balthazar suspected it was a combination of all three, underlined by love.

She’d tapped into her true abilities to save her best friend. An admirable feat that definitely deserved praise, but Balthazar doubted she wanted that praise from Osiris.

“Hmm, I thought not,” the ancient Seraphim continued, referring to his question about Stas’s ability to re-create the power to use against an entire island of Seraphim. “I’m ready to begin your training whenever you desire, Astasiya.”