All Chapters of Seduced by The Two Shadowed Nephilim: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

It’s a low-class building downtown, packed with one-bedroom apartments. Smart move. Makes any kind of clean assassination harder. No one wants the headache of blowing up or breaking into a crowded building just to kill a single priest. Or ex-priest.Draven gives me a half-smile when he opens the door. Not happiness. Obviously. Pure irony.— Didn’t expect your visit after I left the Order. — He steps aside, letting me in.— After you were kicked out, you mean. — I correct him, flat.— Semantics.He walks to a tiny bar cabinet, pours two glasses of whiskey, and hands me one.The apartment looks just like the convents — minimalist to the point of misery: a couch with sagging cushions, a table for two, a cheap coffee table. No TV. I’d bet the bedroom only has a narrow bed and a closet.The Order is rich. Sentinels aren’t.While we Nephilim and fallen angels live off excess and sin, to him comfort is sin.His only vices are whiskey and profanity — but Sentinels aren’t regular priests. They

The murmur of the bar conversations buzzes through the Exilium office’s seal like an insistent mosquito.Eliahz knocks twice and pushes the door just enough to poke his blond head inside.— He’s here.I already know who it is — the illustrious visitor who sent a messenger earlier asking for a meeting.— Let him in.A thin, bony face slides through the doorway like a sacred skull. He looks like a man in his fifties with greyed hair, but he must be three times that. The “blessed” elixir keeps them going so long.He’s dressed all in black, as they always are, but a wine-colored sash tied at his waist replaces a belt and marks authority — above those with white collars.I motion to the chair across from me and he comes in.— Let’s save time, son of Lucifer — he says my father’s name like it’s an insult, but his voice is calm. — We want the girl.I smile, but he doesn’t even blink.— Don’t mistake the Order´s tolerance for weakness — Volkov continues, each syllable another thin attempt at

I open the small door next to the liquor stockroom, just like Zara told me to, and all I find is a dark staircase. The old Lexi would never walk down those steps, but the woman I’ve become — and who’s been slowly losing her mind on nights when Nox is closed — just has to know what’s down there.The flashlight on my phone lights up each step across the spotless floor, and with every second, my curiosity climbs faster.One short flight of stairs that turns left — and then another door.I push it open, and instead of pipes or storage boxes, I find an apartment. The sight makes me freeze at the threshold. The light is dim and warm, but enough to see every detail.The place is small, but complete. The first thing I see is a dark couch against the right-hand wall, facing a massive TV bolted into the concrete. A low carved wooden table sits in front of it, bare.Farther back, a queen bed fills the corner, covered in gray sheets and only two pillows. Beside it, a nightstand with a small lamp

“I’ll drink from your neck,” I say firmly.Cael looks at me, surprised by the request. Then he gives me a wicked smile and slices the skin just below his collarbone. A small cut — but enough for me.My tongue finds the wound first, and I lick it hard. He groans, and the warm blood slides down, intoxicating every cell in my body. The rush is so intense that I wrap both arms around his neck just to keep myself from falling.But my eyes stay locked on Samiel’s. Burning with anger.I’ve already had enough. But I can’t stop.The whole world starts to tilt. My breathing falters. Cael tries to pull back.— Lexi, that’s enough.I ignore him. Close my eyes and press myself against him, drinking until my whole body vibrates with a wild, uncontrollable energy.And suddenly, a sharp pull on my back tears me away from Cael’s neck. Strong arms slide under my legs and lift me. A different body. A different scent — one that feels far too familiar.Samiel.He crosses the terrace with hard, determined

— The four moons with the victus are mine by right — he says, smiling at me and Cael.It’s amazing how some voices have the power to unleash the worst in me. Azrion’s is one of them.My fist tightens, my shoulder locks, and then the rage wakes up completely, no disguise this time. I keep my arms crossed, as if bound, just so I don’t break something. Or someone.The place chosen for the council meeting tonight is an abandoned warehouse in the middle of nowhere, filled with piles of rusted car parts and half-rotted metal. Probably some illegal operation. It should smell like mold and rust, but that damned angelic incense masks everything.In front of me, seven thrones, faceless figures sitting in them. The light descends from nowhere, white and suffocating, illuminating only the space between us and them — the angels.— Foundation? — Gabriel asks, that metallic voice I despise.Azrion grins like a lunatic.— My men confirmed the girl’s origin. She’s an umbra, born from my blood. I reque