Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 130619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 653(@200wpm)___ 522(@250wpm)___ 435(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 653(@200wpm)___ 522(@250wpm)___ 435(@300wpm)
And why would he ask me where I belong?
It’s then that I notice the note on my pillow. Is it from him, the angel? I snatch it up and read:
Rest today. We’re going to try something new tonight. Meet me on the overlook at dusk. And I mean rest, Ember. You will need every ounce of energy you possess for this new challenge.
That’s it. No signature. No nothing.
I have no idea what this is or why I’m quaking inside with the possibilities.
The Sacred Book of Nephilim
Long ago, demons roamed free and wild, and they believed they owned the land of the humans. Michael came then, the Archangel of War, and he brought his brothers with him. Together, they drove the demons into the underbelly of this world and others. This is where they will stay until the Aza comes of age. The Aza, who will either refortify their prisons or open their doors.
Chapter forty-five
Iarrive at the overlook to find Micah waiting on me, a heavy shadow tracing the sharp line of his powerful jaw, the look in his eyes cold and hard. He has never felt as distant as he does now, and I find myself wishing for a lifeline between us to tug him back to me.
He offers me his hand, the act telling me we’re rifting to an unknown place. I do not reach for him. “Where are we going?”
“You’ve seen a small part of our world. It’s time you see more.”
More is not butterflies and cozy coves. It’s the danger and darkness. The unknown is fear, an emotion that has not been serving me well. I trust Micah. That’s what matters. He offers me his hand, and I can almost feel the question in the action. Do I dare accept the challenge he presents? There is no hesitation in me. I slide my palm against his. A moment later, we reappear at the edge of a waterfall raging down the side of a cliff carved from blue and gray stones, but when I look over the edge, there is nothing but darkness that spirals forever.
“What is this place?”
“It’s the entrance to the Elysium Underbelly, which is where we’ll train today.”
“What is it, though?” I press.
“The rough end of town.” He laces his fingers through mine. “This is necessary, Ember.” I blink, and he’s rifted us again. Now we stand at the door of a double gate, a demon with horns and yellow eyes etched in the steel, black flowers of some sort twined around the bars. Micah releases me and walks to the gate, where he places a crystal blue stone in a hollowed spot. The doors creep open, a shiver of foreboding sliding down my spine. Whatever lives beyond the barrier we have now breeched wants to kill me, and I haven’t even set foot inside.
I draw in a breath, and I don’t look at Micah. I’m scared, and I remind myself yet again that fear isn’t a healthy place to operate from. Confidence needs to center me, and I’m good in combat, at least with people who don’t want to kill me. It’s time to translate that into real battle. If I can’t face whatever is behind this gate, I can’t face Jeremy, and eventually, I will stand toe to toe with him. I want that to happen. And I will be strong enough to end him.
I will never join him.
The doors halt only a few inches wide, and when I glance at Micah, he motions me forward. He wants me to go first. Damn it, he wants me to go first. All right, then. I straighten my spine. I can do this. I walk toward the gate, and the blade resting at my thigh hums with magic, as if it feels the danger ahead as I do.
I cross the threshold and find myself staring into a foggy swampland of black vines, rock formations, and trees adorned with black leaves. What is this place? I turn to find Micah on the other side of the gate. “If you’re not out in an hour, I’ll come for you, but I won’t come before, so don’t call for me.” The gate slams shut.
Adrenaline surges, and my legs burn with the speed of my dart toward the exit, but when I grab the steel, a shockwave of magic rips through my palms, and I jerk back with the searing pain. “I can’t believe you’re doing this to me,” I call out to Micah, bitterness etched in my tone and ripped right from my soul.
“I’m trying to wake you up, Ember. There are worlds depending on it.”
“Fuck you,” I bite out, my hand on my blade, and for the first time ever, the magic that radiates off of it seems to vibrate deep in my bones.
A clicking sound, like a tongue hitting the roof of a mouth, has my heart racing and me whirling around. A creature stands several feet away, a blob of black slime with yellow eyes. A Slime Demon, when Micah told me there were none in Elysium. He apparently left out the part where the Underbelly is the exception—a demon prison, I now understand. I mentally process what I know of Slime demons, including how fast they move, and I’ve no sooner had the thought than it rushes at me, zipping from one place to the spot in front of me in the blink of an eye. Adrenaline is ripe in my veins, rolling through them with the force of a raging river, fear radiating in its depths, driving me to survive or die. The blade burns my palm with its surge of magic, and I plant it in the demon’s head, right through the top of the skull. It collapses and melts into a puddle of sludge.