Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 72515 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72515 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Father lands a hit that Remus isn’t able to block, and he’s blasted off his feet into the wall, making a crater in the stone from the impact.
Abaddon attacks from above, hurling the chains around Father’s neck so they wrap around several times, dragging him down to the ground. On his back, Father lifts a hand and hits Abaddon directly in the chest with a bright blast of white-blue runes. Abaddon explodes backward.
I grab the chains still wrapped around my father’s neck with several arms and run towards the large circle Layden created.
Father gasps and grabs the chains strangling him as I drag him across the floor. He reaches a hand out, blasting runes outwards. He can’t see me, but I’m large, and eventually, a blast hits me in the leg, flinging me forward and knocking me out of shadow as I tumble end over end, landing face-first right outside the circle.
Layden is there, standing in front of me and absorbing the next concentrated blast my father sends my way with a bright shield.
“You disappointing cunt!” Father screams as he climbs back to his feet, throwing off the chains. “Never could do a goddamned thing right, you fucking thing! You’ll pay for this. I’ll make you rue the day I ever pulled you misformed disappointments from the fucking forge! All of you!” he screams.
This is right when Abaddon and Romulus come flying at him from behind like a rocket, each catching an arm, lifting him, and dropping him into the center of the circle Layden created.
Layden is ready, both hands extended as he begins to speak words I don’t understand.
The fire from the candles shoots to the ceiling as my father looks around in confusion, standing and trying to shoot runes at us. But they fall short once they reach the ring of the circle. And then he lifts off the ground. He’s shouting, but we can’t hear it. The noise of a rushing wind has filled the space. A tornado rushes around within the circle, tearing at our father’s clothing and hair.
He whips around, holding out his arms and raising more runes. They’re torn from his fingertips the moment he raises them, made impotent.
The wind whips so fast, a bright white light erupting, and I have to shield my eyes, the roar growing even louder. Like a train going past, only mere feet away.
And then, silence.
I drop my hands and look in astonishment to find the center of the circle empty. There’s a slight black scorch mark, but that is all that remains.
“Is he—” Romulus asks.
“Gone,” Layden answers. “Sent home to the Great Hall.”
Romulus’s head spins on its axis, and Remus’s cackle fills the room. He laughs and laughs and laughs.
“Hannah,” Abaddon whispers, then lifts off his feet and flies out of the room, no doubt to check on his wife and daughter.
I look to the brother I thought I’d lost, pull him into my many arms, and say, “Welcome home, baby brother.”
He’s stiff in my arms for long moments before finally relaxing. “I still do not forgive you.”
I chuckle at that and pull back. “As long as you are alive, I welcome a long, long life of your bitterness.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
KSENIA
What the hell am I supposed to do now? I look around the small, off-the-books safe house and feel. . . everything. Now that I’ve had a day alone to process shit, it hits me like a rushing waterfall. Not that I’ve ever been especially good at processing.
Why did I just say goodbye like that? Why didn’t I tell him—
Tell him what?
I pace back and forth in the small front room of the Helsinki apartment. Usually, all I want is to be alone, but after only hours alone, I’ve started feeling stir-crazy. For lack of anything else to do, I took apart and cleaned every weapon I brought and sharpened all my knives. Then I began the pacing.
Emotions, that usually feel absent or out of reach, suddenly bombard me. Flashes of full-body rage at my uncle hit me every so often. Heat hits my face, then chokes my throat and tightens my chest.
There’s the fury at my uncle. At myself for not killing him when I had the chance. Do I really think a monster like that deserves to live because he spat some semen out that happened to impregnate someone once? How is that fair?
Yet every time I replay the moment and the look in that little girl’s face, I know there was no other choice.
Which just makes the rage bubble higher until I want to tear something apart because it feels like— Like—
Like he’s won!
And then I feel the gutting feeling of loss when I realize Kharon’s gone, and I don’t know if I’ll ever see him again. I’ve been alone all my life except for my father, and in such a short time, he felt like—