“We won’t know unless we ask her. She’s currently in my Keep, so I suggest we do exactly that.”
They’d taken no more than three steps out of the room when they saw Azazel heading their way. The Ancient frowned. “There a problem?”
“We’ll explain on the way,” Cain told him.
*
Wynter handed the broadsword back to Maxim, who studied its brand-spanking new runes with utter fascination.
“And this enchantment will work on anyone the blade slices?” he asked.
“Yes, including you, so be careful,” she advised. “You wouldn’ttrulybe itching all over, but you’d think that you were, so you’d scratch and scratch and scratch—it’s not only distracting, it’s maddening. But it will stop after twenty minutes or so.”
“That’s … I’m impressed. Very.” He carefully sheathed his sword. “Thank you, Wynter.”
“No, thankyou,” she said as he handed her payment.
She’d no sooner stuffed the cash in her pocket than a gentle breeze swirled around her ankles and traveled up her legs, fairly humming with warning. It wasn’t a warning of danger, though. More like a heads-up that she needed to be prepared.
The solar room door opened, and Cain stalked inside. He wasn’t alone. Seth and Azazel followed him into the room. And as all three men honed in on her, their expressions hard and intense, she suspected that at leastoneof her secrets were out.
Hell.
Maxim briefly greeted them before breezing out of the solar and abandoning her.
Cain stepped toward her, his bottomless eyes settled on her with a mind-melting focus that—even right then, despite the circumstances—didfartoo interesting things to her hormones. “Wynter, this is Azazel and my brother, Seth.”
Azazel squinted. “The Priestess of the Bloodrose Coven, right?” It felt like a trick question.
“No. My crew says that shit to wind me up.” She returned her gaze to Cain. “Well, I see you’re busy, so I’ll get going.”
“There’s no rush,” he said, his voice smooth and casual, yet there was a firmness there that insisted she stay. “You might be interested to know why I was called away just now.”
“Oh?”
“Bounty hunters requested an audience with an Ancient. They’re looking for someone in particular.”
Her insides seized. “Bounty hunters usually are.”
“In this case, they’re seeking a witch. A witch by the name of Wynter Dellavale. You. And they’re seeking you on behalf of the people of Aeon.”
“Yeah, so?”
He blinked. “You failed to mention that they wanted you when you came here looking for sanctuary.”
“You said you weren’t interested in what brought me or my crew here,” she reminded him. “Are you going to hand me over to the bounty hunters?”
He gave her a pointed look. “You and I have a verbal contract, remember?”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
He closed the small space between them, pinning her gaze with his own. “I sent them away, Wynter. I will send away anyone who comes for you, or I will kill them—one or the other.” He stared at her like she was a puzzle he was desperate to solve. “Tell us why the Aeons want you.”
It wasn’t a request; it was a demand. And considering the Aeons might very well bring trouble to their door, she supposed it was only fair that the Ancients understood the situation. Not that she’d tell themeverything. But then, they didn’t need to knoweverything.
“They exiled me,” she said.
“I know that much. But why?”