Page 58 of Wrath

DEVLIN

The leader of this camp was a human named Stefan. He appeared to be about my age, with light-brown hair, broad shoulders, and a bearded face.

He was also desperately in love with my mate.

I could tell that within seconds of meeting him.

The fucker ignored me completely, took one of Z’s hands, and pressed his lips to the back of it with a whispered, “Liberator.”

Z, for her part, looked immensely uncomfortable as she removed her hand from his.

“Nice to meet you…?” She trailed off pointedly, one of her eyebrows arched.

His eyes gleamed, evidently pleased that she wanted to know his name. “Stefan.”

“Nice to meet you, Stefan.”

He practically swooned, as if she’d invited him to an orgy instead of merely saying his name.

I fucking hated him.

My bitterness only amplified as Stefan led us to a tent near the middle of the camp and chose to walk directly beside Z. They were so close that every step had their shoulders brushing.

Jealousy unfurled deep in my gut like a noxious weed, growing until it consumed me from the inside out.

“Quit glaring,” Ryland murmured, his voice coming from directly beside me.

I hadn’t even realized the bastard had arrived and was beside me.

“You can’t tell me you don’t see it,” I hissed back.

Killian, who stood on my other side pushing Dair in his wheelchair, frowned. “Are you talking about the fact that Stefan is in love with our mate?” His nose wrinkled. “I can practically taste his hormones.”

As if on cue, Stefan casually brushed his hand down her arm.

All of our eyes homed in on that minuscule touch.

“Don’t be so obvious,” Ryland said, moving so he was hovering directly in front of me, the shadows consuming him completely.

“Why’s that?” Though Lupe directed his question at Ryland, his glare remained fixed on the dumb human.

“Because we’ll be the first suspects when his body is discovered.” Ryland said those words calmly. Too calmly.

Sometimes, it was easy to forget that Ryland could be a scary motherfucker when he wanted to be.

“We can’t just kill him,” Dair said—always the peacekeeper. Then, from up ahead, Z laughed at something Stefan said, and the mermaid prince frowned. “On second thought, go ahead.”

“We need to get used to this type of thing,” Killian insisted. “Z is…Z. It’s impossible for people not to love her.”

“I think I liked it better when she scared people away,” I muttered.

Agreements chorused around me.

We finally reached the camp’s headquarters, and I was moderately surprised to see it looked almost exactly like the tent at the last camp. The only difference was the color of the table—this one was a dark shade of mahogany.

Stefan, the annoying fuck, pulled out a seat for Z at the head of the table, and she took it with a tentative smile. He then proceeded to push her in. And was I mistaken, or did his hands linger on her shoulders before he claimed his own seat?

In the shadows surrounding Ryland, a blade gleamed like moonlight, the tip aimed in Stefan’s direction. Lupe saw it at the same time I did, rushed towards the shadow, casually grabbed the other man’s arm, and forced his hand back down.

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