Abel had finally had to stand up to Lute. She had gone down to Hell, determined to wreak revenge for Adam’s death, and everyone had begged him to do something, do anything.

So he’d asked, what would his dad do?

And finally, Abel had stood up, and taken charge, he’d been a leader, the way he needed to be. And he had to admit, although it had been scary, it had been almost fun. To see Lute back down; to listen to him. Abel’s golden eyes gleamed almost cheerfully as he swung his helmet back and forth, running a hand through his golden hair.

Maybe this time, people would start listening to him. Abel wasn’t Adam, Abel wasn’t his brother, Cain. He was himself, and he had to do things his own way. He was brave.