The Wicked in Me (Devil’s Cradle #1) Read Online Suzanne Wright

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, Paranormal, Romance, Witches Tags Authors: Series: Devil's Cradle Series by Suzanne Wright
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Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 125083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
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Cain felt his brows flick up. “Innovative idea.”

“I heard that the Priestess is a pretty little thing,” said Seth, coming to stand on Cain’s other side.

“She is,” Cain confirmed. “She’s also off-limits.”

Seth’s mouth kicked up. “Is she now? For how long?”

“Until I say differently.” Cain spied Wynter and her coven in the crowd. She was shaking her head at Hattie, who was pointing her finger at the page of an open book. Beside them, both Xavier and Delilah laughed. Anabel, however, huddled close to Wynter, nervously eyeing the crowds as if she expected someone to suddenly lunge at her.

“Fair enough,” said Azazel. “But you might want to find a way to make that clear to one and all, because from what I heard, she’s picked up a few admirers.”

Cain had anticipated that, which was why … “It’ll be made clear tonight.” No one would dare touch her after that.

“Be ready for Ishtar’s reaction,” said Azazel. “She won’t like that someone else has your attention, and she’s never careful with your toys.”

“Wynter wears my mark on her palm. Not even Ishtar will disrespect that.”

“She won’t physically hurt your witch, no. But there are other ways to hurt someone or make their life difficult.”

“There are. And I know how to make Ishtar’s life difficult. She’s well aware of that. It’ll make her hesitate to play games.”

“‘Hesitate’ being the key word,” Seth cut in. “So if you want the Priestess for more than one night, you’d better hope that Wynter has staying power, or Ishtar will succeed in making her think you’re more trouble than you’re worth.”

“Which you are,” Azazel quipped.

Cain couldn’t deny it. “Yes, but Wynter doesn’t know that yet.”

Azazel snorted. “By the way, I spoke to my source again. The deterioration is still rampant in Aeon, and people are still getting sick.” When Seth let out a skeptical sound, Azazel looked at him. “You’re still not buying it?”

Seth shrugged. “I find it difficult to believe that decay and illness is prevalent in such a place of power.”

“Why?” asked Azazel. “There’s a whole other kind of rot there. Metaphorically speaking.”

“And you think that perhaps the universe decided it was time that the land reflected that?”

“Maybe. Stranger things have happened.”

Hearing the clicking of heels, Cain turned to see Lilith heading their way with Dantalion not far behind her. They all exchanged brief greetings.

Seth tilted his head at Dantalion. “When I heard you would throw the first celebration, I hadn’t for a moment expected you to suggest a parade.”

“I didn’t,” said Dantalion, rubbing the dust of stubble that was as blond as his short hair. “Ishtar insisted on it being a prelude to the celebration. You can’t be surprised. Having everyone wave and smile at her as she goes by in a carriage is exactly the sort of thing she’d enjoy.”

Lilith locked her vivid green gaze on Seth. “I had thought she would want you sitting beside her.”

“She suggested it this morning. I said no.” Seth’s eyes slid to Cain. “She complained that I was as obstinate and awkward as my brother, which made me wonder if she’d made that same suggestion to you.”

“She wanted me to escort her to the celebration,” said Cain.

Lilith let out a derisive sound and flicked her long, red hair over her shoulder. “In other words, she wanted you both fawning all over her.” She studied the crowd. “Has anyone noticed that the fey seem to be in a foul mood?”

“As of today, there are potions available in the city that allow people to see past fey glamor,” said Azazel.

Lilith blinked. “Oh. Well, they’ll hate that. They’re forever tricking people.”

Azazel looked at Cain. “Your witch’s coven is responsible for that as well as—”

Marching band music cut through the air.

Seth sighed. “It’s starting.”

Surrounded by dance troupes, stilt walkers, and a uniformed marching band, a horse-drawn carriage exited the bailey of Ishtar’s Keep.

“Doesn’t do anything by halves, does she?” muttered Dantalion.

People clapped, waved, smiled, and whistled as the carriage went by. Most of those wide smiles were forced, but Cain doubted Ishtar would notice. She was too caught up in the personal power she gained from being the focus of so much attention.

Sticks beat on drums. Horse hooves clip-clopped. Balloons popped. Leaders called out to their dance troupes.

“Hey,” began Azazel, “what do you think all these people would do if they knew the truth about the Ancients?”

“Run,” said Dantalion. “I think they’d all run.”

*

Wynter obligingly smiled as the horse-drawn carriage passed by. Ishtar was as beautiful as Maxim had said. Presently, she looked high as a kite. The Ancient was clearly loving this. Personally, Wynter couldn’t see any appeal in it, but to each their own.

Once the parade was finally over, several aides led the crowds through the woods and over to an open-air arena. It truly was huge, just as Xavier had said. Spectacular, too. It made her think of the Colosseum in Rome.


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