Chapter 189 What a devil want

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CASSANDRA

When my brother Ector and I were children, we would often get ourselves into a great deal of mischief.

At the end of the day, it was mostly just us having fun and messing about, but sometimes, when we were particularly naughty kids, Erika would sit us down and tell us stories. Once I reached adulthood, I realized these stories were meant to get us to settle down and listen to her, but at the time, I took every word as a warning.

Erika told us tales about ghosts and devils alike. While the ghosts were there to frighten us, the devils had different intentions in mind. As the fire in the fireplace blazed behind her, the maid would gesture for us to sit closer, and she’d tell us all about the devils.

The devils, she said, would drag naughty children down the ground. They were horribly ruthless, terrible creatures, and if a kid was snatched and taken by a devil, they would never be able to return to their homes and families.

The solemnity of Erika’s tone coupled with the chilling tales would scare me to the core. I would swear repeatedly that I would behave myself and be a good girl out of fear that a devil would seize me and take me away to some unknown abyss.

But Ector was another story. My golden–haired, brave brother would argue with the maid and insist that since Father could protect us, how would the devils even get to us?

Erika always found a way to explain it away. Devils were good at disguising themselves, she told us. They would appear to be kind and gentle, but deep down, they were extremely evil, vile monsters, with hearts made of pitch–black onyx.

While my brother would insist that he didn’t believe in such stories, he would always discipline himself for a couple of days after they were told.

to him that what Erika had told us so long ago was virtually the truth. A devil could be smiling and well–mannered. He could

devil’s story. I’d asked him what to do if I was captivated by a well–disguised devil, and I remembered

about it more and more, standing on this bridge

did the devil want?

for a moment and then asked the question that had been lingering in the back

14-

What a devil want

Emmett a sorcerer?” I asked

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His forehead. crinkled slightly

again. “Because you think I might have gotten something from Emmett? I can assure you that I know nothing about any of that. I didn’t even know Emmett was involved in

foreign king tilted his head slightly and when he still didn’t speak, I continued

between you and Emmett was, I had nothing to do with it, and there’s nothing I can do,” I stated in an attempt to emphasize my lack of involvement. “Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t apply any of the sorceries to save your father… that is, if your father

mention of his father, and then his mouth twitched ever so

a lie,” he murmured. “My father’s illness. But unfortunately, even if that fool, Spike, was alive, he wouldn’t be able to help. My

He looked away

when he turned back to me, his face was desolate. His gaze lingered, and then he took a step away and leaned against the other side of the railing. He stared out at the lake and then shook his

me North to Yurene,” he mused. “You seem to consider me a villain. But I don’t

I uttered, and I clenched my jaw in frustration. “And what kind of story

chin to look at the sun. Despite the shadows cast by the trees beyond us, the sun

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