Last Stand (Behind Blue Eyes Book 4) by Anna Mocikat

Last Stand (Behind Blue Eyes Book 4) by Anna Mocikat

Author:Anna Mocikat [Mocikat, Anna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-03-21T16:00:00+00:00


Chapter Eleven

Lucifer

“That was an amazing speech earlier,” Nephilim said as she and Metatron entered his apartment. Outside, it was already night, and the countless lights of the city shone through the huge windows like the Milky Way in the vastness of space.

Metatron smirked, then looked at her. “Regard your soldiers as your children, and they will follow you into the deepest valleys; look on them as your own beloved sons, and they will stand by you even unto death.”

“Sun Tzu?” Nephilim asked.

Metatron nodded. “The Art of War.”

“It’s how you see them, don’t you?”

“I do. They’re the future of humanity, and I do everything I can to make them victorious in every battle. They know that.”

“Because you only send them into battles that can be won,” Nephilim said as they entered the living area. Dim lights and the fake fireplace sprang on.

The High-Archangel smiled. He could see in her face that she was being genuine, that she trusted his judgment. He would prove worthy of that trust. Hers and all the other Angels’. He would win the war.

Every war.

But now it was time for a confrontation he feared more than having to face an army by himself.

“Please, take a seat, my dear,” he said, pointing at the sofas. “I’ll make us a drink. I feel we will both need one.”

He said it with a neutral voice, yet when he stepped to the bar and faced away from her, he closed his eyes for a moment.

What will you do if she doesn’t understand?

The voice in his head—was it his voice, or was it Lucifer’s?—mocked him. He’d been battling it all day.

I guess I’ll see.

Metatron opened his eyes and poured two whiskeys into exquisite crystal glasses. It was ironic, but he’d never really liked whiskey. It had been Lucifer’s favorite drink, though, so he’d gotten accustomed to it over the years. Nephilim’s father hadn’t cared for his wishes much.

Glasses in hand, he turned around and walked back to her.

She sat there, upright with her legs crossed, a serious expression on her face. Every time he saw the cuts splitting her cheeks, it broke his heart and fueled him with new anger. If he could, he’d kill that bastard again and again every day. But now he had to focus on something else.

Metatron approached her and handed her one of the glasses, then sat down next to her, facing her.

“Nephilim,” he began. “Do you know what people call you behind your back? Not only in the corps but also outside the Cube.”

She furrowed her brow. “No.”

“The Crown Princess.”

She chuckled. “What?”

Metatron nodded. “It seems everyone knew. You were the only one surprised by my note yesterday. In retrospect, I regret making it so obvious. If I’d been more careful, Stavros would never have known how important you are to me, and maybe none of this would ever have happened.”

She lifted her hand and placed it on his cheek. “Please, don’t blame yourself. It was my mistake and my mistake only. We both know I was reckless and… stupid.



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