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)
“This way,” he says softly, and he’s on the move again with the expectation that I will follow. In this moment, he’s the Overseer who expects submission, though I’m not sure that’s his intent, rather than escaping me. There’s tension between us born of the obvious awkward kiss/kill plight we’re in, but there’s also something deeper in the air that I’m not sure either of us fully understands.
Whatever the case, I’m eager to see the rest of the house. With a double step—or two, actually—I easily catch up to him as we reach the opening of a hallway that blows my mind. This is not the hallway of a farmhouse, but rather that of a castle, with towering stone walls lit by elegant heavy metal sconces.
“Without the limitations of Earth,” I murmur softly, and when I glance up at Micah, he’s watching me, his expression unreadable, his face all hard lines and shadows.
“Just as you don’t have the limitations of being human.”
The limitations of being human, I repeat in my mind, and I realize this statement doesn’t feel as strange as it should, but deep down, it would have just twenty-four hours ago. I’m moving past mourning my prior life and acceptance of the new, if for no other reason than survival. Or maybe it’s blossomed more from an understanding that I was never one of them. I never belonged. Except with my grandfather, and that’s curious to me. I file that thought away for later retrieval, and we begin walking, side by side, the path long and winding, and I glance up at Micah. “What’s with you and long, narrow paths? Are we headed underground?”
“No. That’s not necessary in Elysium. The house is playing games with us for your benefit.”
“For my benefit?”
“It wants you to learn to use your assets.”
“In other words, the walk to the kitchen to make coffee in the morning may well be ridiculously long.”
“You can spellcast your own cup of coffee or rift to the kitchen. That’s the point. It wants you to use your magic.”
“It, or you?”
“Both,” he says easily.
“Well, ‘the house’ is acting like an overbearing parent.”
“I suppose ‘the house’ sees itself just that way, but I am far from parental where you’re concerned.”
I halt and turn toward him, and he’s already facing me, the words already on the tip of my tongue and impossible to pull back. “If not parental, Micah, then what? How do you see yourself with me?”
“How do you see me, Ember?”
“Overbearingly arrogant and stubborn.” It’s as honest an answer as I’m willing to give him right now, and even admit to myself.
“I’m protective, but for the record, confidence is not arrogance, and it’s something you need to learn.”
“I was confident as a human. I’m a baby Nephilim. And you’re protective because you think I’m the Aza, and there’s a reason some of your own kind want to kill me.”
“Our own kind,” he replies, his voice a low rasp. “You’re like me, Ember.”
“Am I, though? I don’t think you believe that any more than I do.”
“That’s not true. You can feel that connection,” he says, and I suck in a breath as he adds, “our connection.”
I have no idea why, but my heart is racing, and I feel as if I’m standing on the edge of a cliff about to fall, and he’s all that holds me in place. “What does that mean, Micah? Tell me what all of this means.”
He cuts his eyes, and I have this sense of him battling within himself, and I don’t believe he’s a man who hesitates or questions himself much. But he’s struggling over me, and I can’t conclude that’s a good thing. “Micah—”
“This is your room,” he says, facing forward, and I blanch as I realize the walkway has ended and we haven’t moved. We’re standing in front of two side-by-side heavy arched wooden doors.
He reaches for the shiny gold handle, and with a moan, the wood slides open, and Micah is motioning me inside. My pulse leaps at the idea of being alone with him in my bedroom, but as I step under the archway, when I’m parallel to him, he says, “Sleep well, Ember.”
I whip around to face him, but he’s gone, only the remnants of magic and the earthy scent of him lingering in the air, but I can still feel him. He is everywhere in this place, except right here with me, and I don’t even know how to reach him if I need him.
The Sacred Book of Nephilim
The Nephilim are descendants of angels, sent to do good for the mighty creator. It was abuse of that role that left our kind eternally living amongst humans, paying for those sins of our elders, but to discount what a gift this punishment is, is fool’s blood. Our destruction could just as easily come from demons as it could the greed corrupting our own kind.