Page 39 of Wrath

Dair glared and helped me fix my shirt. “Assholes.”

Devlin’s frown deepened. “One of our spies returned to the camp. She claims she saw Aaliyah.”

TWELVE

JAX

The knots of apprehension in my stomach refused to loosen as I stared intently at the woman. She arrived at the camp a few minutes earlier, out of breath and panting, her face flushed from exertion.

And her pulse… It thundered in her neck. I found my gaze drawn there instinctually as hunger rose, swift and brutal.

Calm yourself, Jax,I internally chastised myself, even as my stomach throbbed.

Things hadn’t been quite as bad this time around. The voices were quiet, the walls were still, and hallucinations didn’t plague my every waking moment. But the hunger persisted, regardless, clawing at my dry throat and demanding I give in.

The woman accepted a cup of water from Mali gratefully. As she drank from the cup, my gaze once again snagged on her throat, on her steadily thrumming pulse.

Just one sip.

One sip.

One—

I turned away with gritted teeth and willed myself to regain control. I wouldn’t feed on this poor human woman, no matter how thirsty I was. Hell, I wasn’t even sure if I could feed on Z in my current state.

When I was starving myself—and consequently going insane because of it—I became numb to the incessant gnawing in my stomach, demanding I consume blood. It didn’t dissipate, but it became…background noise, easier for me to tune out. But when I began to feed again, courtesy of Aaliyah, the times I prohibited myself from taking blood became even more noticeable. It was a dull ache that refused to alleviate, no matter what I did.

I hadn’t drunk from anyone since Z disappeared with Bash over a week ago.

And I had a feeling if I consumed blood now, I would drain the human dry.

Even Z.

The mere thought twisted up my insides. I would need to be supervised if I fed off of her. All of my brothers would need to be there to stop me from taking too much, too soon.

I couldn’t allow that to happen.

Fear-laced adrenaline charged through me.

No, I would sooner starve myself than risk anything happening to Z.

I forced myself to return my attention to the human woman. The spy. She appeared older, maybe in her mid-thirties, but had ageless, almost regal features on a heart-shaped face. Golden curls tumbled down her back. Dirt stuck to her cheeks, and there was a twig woven in her hair. Besides that, she appeared relatively unharmed.

“Z’s on her way,” Killian said, inching a tentative step forward.

The woman—who’d introduced herself as Jade—scrambled backwards through the cumbersome grass, fear splayed acrossher face, causing her mouth and eyes to widen simultaneously. Killian froze, frowned, and then moved backwards until he stood a few feet away from the woman. He lowered his head in shame.

“He won’t hurt you,” Mali whispered, though her voice still carried. “He’s one of the Liberator’s mates. I know the horns and tail look scary?—”

“It’s not because of that,” Jade replied harshly. Unlike Mali, she didn’t bother to keep her voice down. Keen eyes landed on Killian and narrowed. “He’s an incubus. I’ve seen what his kind does to humans.”

A delicate tremor worked its way through her.

Killian looked as if he was going to be sick.

“He wouldn’t do that,” Mali assured her softly. “Even if he wasn’t in love with Z, he would never force himself on anyone.”

“I’m just going to…” Killian gestured vaguely over his shoulder and then took off without a word, his shoulders slumped and his head lowered.

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