Free The Silverwing's Sorceress: THe Shadow Slayers, Book 2.5 by Cassi Carver

he’d put a lot of thought into his offer. “Hmm… Okay… Why do you think your blood could heal my wound?”
    “Although branding is rarely used anymore, I was told that hundreds of years ago the Aniliáre favored it to show ownership of their females. The black-wing’s symbol was permanent unless he used his own blood to heal it. In some cases, the blood of his immediate offspring could also be used. I never considered this for you, because you’re a witch, and what Gable did to you is no normal brand. But still…if Claudius wants the blood, there may be some truth in it.”
    “Claude didn’t ask for Brakken’s blood. You said he just wanted the blood of a black-wing, in general. But if what you said about Brakken’s son being able to do the same thing is true…then wouldn’t you have to be—”
    “Yes. His son.”
    “ What? ” She jerked as though she’d been slapped.
    Jaxon…Brakken’s son? No, that couldn’t be right. He would have told her. Her heart thudded as memories of Gable’s brutality flashed through her mind. Gable…the son of the craziest black-wing in the Shadowland. Jaxon…his brother.
    She jumped to her feet and fled for the door. Jaxon caught her before she could make it across the threshold.
    “Abbey, wait…”
    When he wrapped his arms around her, she pushed hard at his chest. “I don’t understand what you’re saying! If you’re telling me the truth, you’ve been lying to me since the day we met. If you’re lying to me for fun, you’re some sicko I don’t even know. Which is it?”
    A thick crease wedged between his brows, and his shoulders hunched like he was being pelted with stones. “I never lied. It’s simply not something I talk about. No one knows—not even Brakken himself.”
    “How is that possible?”
    “Sit back down, and I’ll tell you.”
    She walked to the bed, ashamed to admit that the only reason she agreed to sit and hear him out was that her legs couldn’t support her weight. Her knees felt like they’d come unglued from the tops of her shins.
    Her ass sank into the mattress as she tried to hold herself upright. “Go ahead. I’m listening.”
    Somehow, he looked more distraught than she was. He sat on the edge of the bed next to her, his face ashen, with a thin film of sweat misting his brow. “Have you heard of the female Hexa?”
    “No. Should I have?”
    He glanced away. “If you’d been born Demiáre, you would have learned all the proper swear words growing up. A favorite expression around the island is…‘by Hexa’s… hairy ass ’.”
    Abbey shook her head and smoothed her fingers along her pounding temples. “I’m not following you.”
    “The form most Aniliáre take would look human to you, but under that veneer, fallen angels are more spirit than flesh. Because of this, the results of their breedings are not always predictable. There’s always the chance that a… mutation will occur.”
    “Mutation?” She met his eyes and raised a brow, still not sure what this had to with anything. “Are you saying Hexa really did have a hairy ass?”
    “Not did. Does. And it’s not only her bottom—her entire body is covered in silky brown fur.”
    Abbey’s mouth gaped. “Like a chimpanzee?”
    He frowned. “No. Softer and thicker. Like an otter.”
    “And you know this because…”
    With his chin tilted up, he finally met her eyes. “Because she’s my mother.”
    What the hell? “Your mother is an otter hybrid?”
    “Of course not! She’s a highborn Demiáre with an unfortunate mutation. And she’s certainly not the only one. Hexa is not so different from any other fallen angel hybrid you might meet. Well, except for the fur.”
    Jaxon Hex. She’d always thought his chosen last name was a joke of sorts…a poke at witches. But he’d taken a piece of his mother’s name.
    Abbey was having trouble piecing it all together. But what seemed most important was the part about the worst Aniliáre scumbag in the Shadowland