âImpossible.â Radix snapped, black eyes glittering. âSend my Cimmerii after the friendâ¦What is her name?â
âCarter. Miss Carter. That b-â
Radix eyed Worthington, silencing him. âYou have one task. Turn the Fallen Cimmerii. Do it now.â
âIâm working on it. Soon sheâll be begging for me-â
âIf she becomes one of mine, her magic will be mine.â Radix declared. âJust once outwit her damn lover.â
Deragan.
Worthington nodded vigorously.
Chaviasâ steely gaze narrowed on him. Donât dismiss the Captain so easily boy. Youâve no idea what he is. Nor any concept of their connection. Itâs unbreakable.
A wind scattered Worthingtonâs parchments across the floor, distracting him. Glancing back toward the demon, he found Radix gone. As silently as heâd comeâ¦
But Chavias had not.
Worthington swallowed, large Adamâs apple bobbing in his skinny throat as he met that unwavering gaze. âDonât kill me! Donât kill me!â He threw his hands up to block his face.
As if I wouldnât cut them off to get to you, if I intended to. Gray eyes assessed Worthington coldly. Yellow peeled into the edges of the iris as Chavias emitted a threatening growl, an inhuman sound, from deep in his throat.
âIâm going to kill you.â Chavias barked under his breath. Bleak eyes telling Worthington he meant it.
Before you get near the Captainâs mate.
âWhy do you hate me so?â Worthington blurted.
Because you try to destroy humanity merely for your greed. Chavias didnât move. Didnât blink.
âYou cannot! You canât kill me without the demonâs permission.â Though quaking he gathered all his courage to stand up to the obsidian warlord.
Trying to tell me off, you writhing mouse? Chaviasâ jaw ticked with rage. Iâd crush you faster than I could smile.
But when Worthington blinked and opened his eyes, he was alone. Blowing a nervous breath, he collapsed down the desk and slid to the floor. Dropping his forehead to a hand he saw a trail of black ash marking the path Radix moved. Seared into the floor. And a handprint burned into the desk.
Nearly stifling, the acrid scent of ash lingered in the air. Coating the back of Worthingtonâs throat like the flavor of death.
And the threat in the gray gaze of the warlord was a vivid memory burned into Worthingtonâs mind.
Overtime so many of the lines have become blurred to me. But one line that Iâll never confuse is killing the Fallen.
The Worthington boy has no concept of what heâs dealing with, hunting the Captainâs mate. Or the Hell wrath that would find him should he succeed. I watched what Deragan did to a Firoque once. One whoâd killed the Fallen. It was something that still haunts my nightmares. Despite all that Iâve seen even now.
Heâs the alpha because he can be the most vicious. The most relentless and certainly the most unforgiving.
Heâll find you Worthington and God help me if he finds me.
From the Journal of Chavias Derenoe.