Page 25 of Wrath

“You have a lot of faith in me, Z,” I confessed. “But I can’t even use my magic?—”

“So?” I could practically see Z arching an incredulous eyebrow at me. The visual brought a fleeting smile to my face, one I quickly suppressed. “Your magic doesn’t define you. You don’t need it to get me out of this mess.”

I wanted to believe her. I truly did, but…

I was a mage, a nightmare descended from one of the seven deadly sins, Sloth. We were inherently lazy, choosing to use our magic to fix every little inconvenience. I’d be the first to admit that I’d become complacent over the years. I’d barely noticed when I was using my magic versus when I wasn’t. My powers… They were a part of me, as crucial to my anatomy as a limb.

Swallowing around a ball of fire, I straightened.

I might have been a mage, but I was a mate first and foremost. And right now, she needed me. I would punch thisdamn wall until my knuckles were broken and bloody before I would even consider giving up.

No…not even then.

If I couldn’t use my knuckles, I would kick the wall instead. Fuck, I would use my goddamn head if that was what it took.

Determination settling inside of me, I stomped down the hall, searching for anything I could use as a tool. I opened up rooms at random, unsurprised to see that most of them looked identical to the one I was held in.

At the very end of the hall, I found what I’d been looking for.

A sledgehammer.

Satisfaction lit a fire in my belly, and a grin curved my lips as I gripped the weapon.

“Come to daddy, you little slugger,” I purred, then instantly winced, praying Z hadn’t overheard that.

She would never let me live it down.

I returned to her room and proudly held the sledgehammer up in the air…before remembering that she couldn’t see it no matter how many times I brandished it.

“Did you find something?”

“Of course I did,” I responded, trying to decide where I should hit first. “Ye of little faith.”

“That doesn’t make any sense, you dork. I’m the one who gave you that encouraging pep talk. Now, get your sexy ass to work and get me out of here. I think my arm is about to break off.”

Her words, though lighthearted, caused my heart to gallop in fear. Chills careened down my spine.

Once again, I couldn’t help but ask myself—how long could a human survive these conditions? Logically, I knew that she would be okay, but a tiny niggle of fear persisted, clawing at my defenses, demanding to be let in.

Forcing myself to chuckle warily, I returned to my abandoned room and pushed the cot away. The wall seemed to be thinner here. Z’s voice came through clearer.

“Why do I get the impression you only like me for my body?” I teased, rolling my shoulders back and lifting the sledgehammer.

“That’s not true!” Z insisted. Then she added, “I only like you for your cock.”

“It is a damn good cock,” I conceded, throwing the hammer at the wall.

Plaster and debris tumbled down, and a tiny crack emerged.

“Ehhh…”

“I’ll leave you trapped in there forever,” I warned her, already hitting that spot again.

The crack broadened slightly.

“You love my butt too much.”

“That’s true.”

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