Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 47623 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 238(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47623 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 238(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
Unless you’ve been pregnant longer than you or the men realized.
I clear my throat. “I know. It’s not ideal, but—”
“There are options.” She still won’t meet my gaze. “You don’t have to keep it.”
I freeze. My brain knows what she’s saying, but it still takes me a few moments to let the offer sink in. Terminate the pregnancy. I press my hand to my stomach. Hard not to be resentful of the little presence that isn’t quite a presence. I thought pregnancy was my option to take my father’s throne, but I can’t even get in there, and I certainly don’t have the energy to fight. If I show up and publicly declare myself his heir…
I want to believe it will stick.
I desperately need it to be true.
But there’s a chance—and it’s even a large chance at this point—that he’ll do exactly what Grace says and lock me up until I have the baby and then kill me for all the trouble I’ve caused. More, my half-siblings are hardly going to support my claim. As far as they’re concerned, I’m a powerless dud, which means I’m not a legitimate contender for the head of clan.
If I had an army at my back, it wouldn’t be a question. I could bust open the front gates, make my claim in front of the entire compound, and take over. No one could stop me. No one would dare stop me.
But with just me and Grace? And me being incapacitated more often than I’m not?
She’s right to bring up this option, no matter how conflicted I am talking about it. “It’s not just my decision,” I finally say.
“Actually, it is.” She shrugs when I look at her. “Hey, I’m not telling you what to do. I’m just presenting options. Ultimately, it doesn’t really matter which way you land on the topic, because it’s not going to change the end result; we have no way into the compound that doesn’t get us both dead.”
I wish she wasn’t right. I press the heels of my hands to my eyes, trying to think. “There has to be a way.” I have no allies. I wouldn’t even know where to start looking for them, and it would take far too much time. Grace seems to be a lone wolf. Who the hell could we possibly call for… I drop my hands. “Azazel.”
“What?”
The familiarity in Grace’s tone nearly distracts me, but I’m too focused on what appears to be the only option we have. He asked for seven years of service to break the seraphim bond I have with my men. We might not have agreed to those terms, but if he can do that, surely he can offer some kind of real help to get my men back. Even if it’s the same price, seven years is nothing compared to potentially hundreds of years under my father’s control.
I might not live that long, but Malachi, Rylan, and Wolf certainly will. It means there’s no release waiting in the wings. Just endless suffering. I can’t let that happen. I won’t.
“Mina!”
I blink. “What?”
Grace is on her feet and looks like she can’t decide whether to shake me or leave the room entirely. She rocks back on her heels. “Say that name again.”
“Azazel.” This time, I’m paying attention. I see the way she flinches and narrow my eyes. “How do you know that name? Do you know him?”
“No.” A sharp shake of her head. “But I know of him. I know what he does.” The way she speaks, it sounds like she’s talking about more than just deals. Like there’s an element of sinisterness to it I don’t understand. Having met Azazel, I can’t say he’s anything less than terrifying, but he was rather frank about the terms. There were no hidden catches or trickery. It’s more than I can say for how my father operates.
“He seemed fair,” I say finally. “Or, if not fair, then honest.” He spelled out the terms clearly. Maybe the contract itself would have been a problem, but we didn’t get that far. The men drew the line at my paying seven years of service.
“Shows what you know.” Grace paces back and forth in the small space at the end of the bed. She pulls her ponytail out and starts braiding her hair in short, agitated movements. “Are you aware of what he does? He rips women away from their families and most of the time they never return.”
The way she talks, it sounds like she’s speaking from personal experience. I frown. “Who do you know that’s bargained with him? And, seriously, he only bargains with women? That’s kind of…outdated, isn’t it?”
“Take it up with the demon.” Grace drags her fingers through her long dark hair, disrupting her braid and restarting it. She’s long since changed out of the camouflage hunting gear in favor of faded jeans and a plain white T-shirt. Somehow, it doesn’t make her less intimidating…or less dangerous. She drops her arms and pins me with a look. “He took my mother.”