a way his mind couldn’t comprehend because of the fog inflicted upon him by his father’s persuasion.
And now, he couldn’t find her. Because she’d given up on him, on the world, on anyone ever rescuing her from the chains binding her beneath the sea.
His knees threatened to give, his chest an empty cavern drowning beneath a wave of anguish. In a way, Osiris’s torment had been a blessing. He’d provided Sethios over a decade of nothingness. No pain. No understanding. No care in the world.
Now it all crashed over him with the heat of a million suns, burning every molecule inside him.
He had to pull it together. Not just for Caro, but for Astasiya.
Ah, his little angel. She’d grown into a woman in the blink of an eye. She was seven yesterday. At least to him.
Sethios blew out a breath and ran a hand over his face, shaking his head. This self-pity bullshit wasn’t going to fix a damn thing. He needed to find Caro. Then he needed to find a way to take his father down. Killing the old man wasn’t an option—Seraphim couldn’t die—but he could immobilize him. Perhaps by pouring a vat of concrete over his head.
Sethios shuddered at the thought of his last “punishment” orchestrated by his asshole of a father. Osiris had forced Sethios to bury himself alive by dousing himself in liquid concrete. It had hurt like a son of a bitch. And yet, oddly, it still didn’t compare to the agony inside him now.
He felt as though his soul was ripped in half. Shredded. Destroyed.
Caro remained unattainable, her last whisper in his mind reminiscent of a dream. Had that been her or his own mind playing tricks on him?
Fuck, the pain she must feel…
He swallowed, his eyes briefly closing once more. He needed to get over this pity party and start the search.
There was just one problem.
He had no idea where to begin
Gabriel had shown him on a map all the places he’d looked so far—of which there were thousands—and none of them revealed even a hint of her location. This planet was mostly composed of water, leaving the possibilities endless. And without her talking to him, he stood little to no chance of discovering her whereabouts.
Not that she could help much from below the surface.
Sethios began to pace, something he’d done quite a bit of out on this beach. Gabriel owned the entire island, his house only taking up a small speck of space. Some of the underbrush could use a little trimming, but it was otherwise an ideal piece of real estate out in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. The waves were rough, crashing against the shore with a fury that rivaled Sethios’s mood.
He walked alone, indulging in the night, seeking out the solitude offered among the stars. Nearly two decades flashed behind his eyes, there and gone in an instant. It was such a minuscule scrap of time. And yet, it was profoundly life-altering.
Three thousand years of existence had not prepared him to feel this way. So alone. So devastated. So wronged.
His hands curled into fists, his mind wandering to his angel once more. Where are you, Caro? Talk to me.
“Dad?” a voice called instead, his daughter appearing in a flurry of translucent feathers a few feet away. Her wings fluttered around her as she found her footing, the plumes a brilliant opal shade beneath the moon. Then they disappeared as she took her corporeal state, her expression one of astute concentration.
She was still learning how to control her angelic talents, including the one that allowed her to compel others.
“Hi, little angel,” Sethios murmured, doing his best to tamp down the anger he felt inside. He didn’t want to scare her, not after they’d been so recently reacquainted.
It was a bit strange having a fully grown daughter whom he hadn’t seen in years, one who had already found her other half. Sethios almost felt replaced in a way, her loyalty split between the family she once knew and the one she’d created on her own.
He hadn’t decided how he wanted to react to that yet.
A darker part of Sethios wanted to slaughter the immortal who thought he was good enough to date—no, not just date, but mate—his daughter.
Meanwhile, a wiser part of him respected Issac Wakefield’s confidence. The Ichorian hadn’t once bowed to Sethios, his main priority very clearly Astasiya and only Astasiya.
Time would tell whether the darker side would win out against the wiser side.
Right now, he embraced