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)
“No. Never.” I set my fork down, watching him swallow another bite—the act of eating so very human. I decide the humanity in sharing a meal is what I like about these moments with Micah.
“People, humans and Nephilim alike, have limits. Make sure you know what they are before you give them a chance to betray you.” He motions to my plate. “I slaved to make that meal. The least you can do is eat it.”
“Haha,” I say. “You are sort of funny, aren’t you?”
“Thank you,” he replies smartly, sipping his iced tea. “What else do you want to know?”
Everything about Celine, but I let it go, slightly agitated at my irrational interest in his love life. “Who gets a hall pass?”
“A few trusted warriors in my inner circle, and the only people you should trust other than me. You’ll meet them soon enough.”
I wrap pasta around my fork. “Are they old men, too?”
“Old enough to show me their characters.”
“Which is what you’re waiting for me to do, right?”
“Aren’t you doing the same with me?” he counters.
“That’s a yes,” I say, feeling the twist in my belly. “I hope you’re wrong about me.”
“I don’t,” he says. “Because I happen to believe you’re special, Ember.” His voice softens on my name, a rasp on the tip of the words I illogically feel low in my belly.
“Special, but not dangerous?”
“Oh, you’re dangerous, sweetheart, but that doesn’t make you less special.”
I’m intensely aware of the intimacy laced in the depth of those words, of the raspy way “sweetheart” has lingered on his lips. I’m also acutely aware of the implications of him confirming I’m dangerous, and I don’t allow myself to focus on anything but how I make sure I direct the power within me toward demons, not angels or humans. “The book reminds me of the Bible,” I say. “It’s hard to understand.”
“You’ll understand when you get to the right place.”
Still not really understanding his insistence on a labored, time-consuming process, I ask, “Why not just direct me to get there?”
“Because on the journey to get there, you learn things you don’t know you need to know, but you do.”
“You can’t know everything in all of these books by way of reading. Someone told you.”
“Three hundred years is a long time, Ember.” His tone is tight, his expression carved in sharp lines. “I could waste fifty of those and still have too much time on my hands.” He grabs a breadstick, as if ending the topic.
Three hundred years is a long time, I think, and as Overseer, I wonder at how secluded that has made him, how lonely, and I find myself more curious about him than ever. “Where is your family?”
“That’s a complicated question.”
My brow furrows at the evasive answer. “Does that mean it’s none of my business?”
His reply is no reply, at least not at first. He studies me for eternal beats, and I almost hear the clang of a clock announcing the top of the hour before he finally speaks. “Much like you, I was taken away from them at a young age.”
I blink in surprise. “Why?”
“Crystal Seers are a rare breed, to be trained and protected. I was sent to an elder in the Nephilim Mountains, where I was trained and educated.”
“Who is this elder?”
“Joseph is the most ancient Crystal Seer alive, a warrior who fought a battle in the underworld and survived.”
“Do you see your parents now?”
“My mother was killed by a demon the eve of my coming of age.”
“Oh my God. How?”
“It’s more about why. She was a Seer Sensory.”
“Like Ariella?”
“Yes, but my mother was more gifted than Ariella or any other Seer Sensory. And unlike the seclusion and safety of Elysium, The Kingdom of Nephilim is exposed to attacks. That’s why we have an army we call the Gilded.”
“Why are we safe here, but not there?”
“During the great war of Nephilim, there was damage done to borders, regions thrust into dark magic that cannot be spellcast into protection.”
I’ve just finished reading about this portion of Nephilim history, and with great interest. When the Fallen were cast to live amongst mankind, there was a great war and battle for control. It raged only twenty human years before distraction allowed the demons to run free, and a choice between peace and destruction was forced upon the Nephilim. They chose peace, and the first king sat on the Nephilim throne. “If the borders are damaged, why not come here?”
“The lands gifted to the Overseers are small, far too small for the kingdom. A bit like islands off the coast of a bigger region.”
“I see. And so, these warriors protect the kingdom.” It’s not a question, but me working through the history in my mind.
Still, he confirms. “Yes. They’re our warrior class, highly elite fighters.”
I circle back to him. “Your mother…”