Page 45 of Tempest of Wrath and Vengeance

Axel had never really thought of the Underground asbeautiful,but he could admit there was something resilient about the people. They were survivors in a realm that wanted to forget they existed.

When he didn’t say anything, she continued, “I hope you found the shower and subsequent sustenance refreshing?”

“Let’s not play coy, Bree,” he said, surveying everything below. “You know it wasn’t nearly enough.”

“No, but it was enough to let you focus on this conversation for roughly the next hour. Then I suspect it will overtake your thoughts once more,” she replied simply.

“Sounds great,” he muttered.

Bree said nothing else. She only continued to stare out over the Districts.

After what had to be no less than thirty minutes had ticked by, Axel said, “If I only have an hour, you might want to get to the point of this meeting while you still can.”

“You are the first Legacy in a long time who has truly cared for those here,” she replied. “Do you know that?”

“I…”

But he didn’t know what to say to that.

“There have been many over the millenniums that have come in and laid down laws, established themselves as lords and kings. They come here to remind us who rules, and why it is them and not us. They send us their dark and depraved, the criminals and the monsters. They do not wish to look upon them or deal with them, so they send them here to rot and waste away, contained and forgotten. Every once in a while, one comes along who truly sees us for what we are, but they never survive long. And if they do, they soon find themselves one of us.” She finally turned to look at Axel, dragging her fingers along the railing as she moved. “Much like you do now.”

“I am not one of you,” he retorted.

“Not yet.”

“Not ever.”

Her red lips pressed into a thin line before she said, “Perhaps you are no different from all the Legacy before you after all.”

“You speak as if you never were one,” he retorted. “Or has it been so long, you have forgotten what it was like?”

She huffed a humorless laugh, stepping closer to him. “Your smart mouth is always so amusing, but it betrays your own age. You are a child compared to me.”

“And yet you want me at your side,” he countered.

Her smile was sharp when she said, “Because of all my years, I see your potential. I know what we could be, and what this realm could be. You think you are a tortured soul here? You think that this craving, that turning into a Night Child is theworst thing that can happen to you? You know nothing of war and torture. You know nothing of fighting for a cause and failing. You see this life as a curse, while others found it to be a blessing.”

“What did you just say?” he demanded because he’d heard those words before. But that itchy feeling in the back of his throat was starting up, and he couldn’t recall where he’d heard it or who had said it. Not as the memory of how the blood had felt on his tongue less than an hour ago surged to the forefront.

Shaking his head to try to clear his thoughts, he said, “How long have you been a Night Child, Bree?”

She stepped closer still, her front brushing his as she reached up. Her hand slid along his jaw before her thumb swiped across his lips. “Longer than this world has been breathing.”

But he barely heard her answer as something rich and coppery assaulted his senses. Every part of him turned predatory, and he spun to face the doorway where Julius stood with a Fae.

A bleeding Fae.

There was a long gash cut into her inner forearm that Julius was preventing from healing, and Axel lunged.

Or he tried to.

A hand was at his throat, sharp nails digging into his windpipe. He choked out a gasp as Bree pushed him to his knees.

“The thing about the bloodlust is that you become so focused on it, so overcome with want, you forget about your other needs. You ignore the necessities of food and water, but your body doesn’t. You weaken, and still you don’t care,” she said as he tried to pry her hand from her throat.

But Night Children were just as strong as a Fae or Legacy, and he was powerless here. Weak, just as she said.

Julius drew closer, the Fae with him, and as she held him in place with a single hand, Bree sank her fangs into the Fae’s arm. Axel thrashed, strangled cries of desperation coming from him.Not because she was holding him by the throat, but because all he could see was red. All he could smell was the metallic scent that came with a life force. All he could hear was the blood rushing in his ears, reminding him of what he needed with every pulse. All he could taste was the memory of when he’d once been whole and healthy and safe. All he could feel was the burn in his throat, his veins, his very soul at being denied this.

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