With hints of powder blue scales, matched by her eyes and hair, her Wreika heritage was evident. Somewhere in her lineage was a blue wyvern, a fearsome and mystical creature, the likes of which was rarely seen in the current age. With her pale skin, fair as snow, and nails shaped into talons, Ninian looked ethereal and dangerous.
Hades buried his face in his hands as he relived it again. Eris’ ashes were still glowing white hot when he arrived, and it didn’t take a genius to see that Kali had been responsible. Especially when she was still plummeting from the sky.
Smoke and steel drew her, threads of gold and silver dancing in what was left of her vision, leading the way. She murmured a prayer of thanks to whichever gods were listening that there were no mercenaries in the alley. She no longer had the strength to keep up any kind of façade.
The words echoed and dragged Catryn reluctantly back to the last time her sister had said that. A young man with a face she had known from her childhood stared up at her. Eyes as blue as his cloak, wide and pleading.
Catryn’s grip tightened on her knives, but she stood slowly. Forcing her muscles to relax, she lifted her chin and desperately tried to calm her frantic mind. She could not afford to panic against this man.
Exotic paintings and carvings, which Arabella had gathered on her travels, were tastefully scattered around the rooms. Incense burned in the darker corners, where there were lounge chairs and interesting blown glass ornaments.
His fear spiked her blood, and she quickened her pace with a grin. Wolves lived to hunt, and she had developed a taste for it. But the thrill settled as she turned into the larger series of tunnels that were ruled by The Shroud. Followers of The Deceiver, the Caretaker of assassins and thieves.
“This has better be good, overseer.” Another added, cold amusement curling around the words. “I’m sure you remember what happens when you disappoint him.”