Page 149 of Wrath

“Bash said an hour. Maybe two.”

Dad’s lips pursed before he nodded once. “I’ll take the left; you take the right. Let’s keep these ugly fuckers back, okay?”

I opened my mouth to protest, not wanting to be separated from my father longer than I had to, but he grabbed me abruptly and placed his forehead against my own.

“I love you, son, and I’m so damn proud of you. Now let’s protect our kingdom, okay?”

Without another word, my dad shoved me to the side and then took off in the opposite direction, swinging his sword with an expertise that hinted at his years of field experience.

I centered myself, the way I’d learned to do before any battle, and then charged at the gargoyle from behind.

We would win this battle.

We had to.

FIFTY-THREE

LUPE

Iclawed at the grotesque creature—some sort of monster with yellow, drooping skin, gray hair, and blood-red eyes—and then roared my victory. The thrill of the chase thrummed through my veins, reverberating through me, as I dived at another monster.

I opened my jaw wide, bit off the creature’s head, and spit it to the side.

I felt…strange. The only other time I’d felt like this was when I thought Z was dead and my bear gained control. But I was still me now. Or at least, I thought I was.

Yet my thoughts were percolating—spinning and spinning and spinning with no end in sight.

Violence.

Rage.

Blood.

Death.

Wrath.

These monsters wanted to hurt my family and mate. They were all going to die.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I remembered what Z had told me about the last fight she and the others had with Aaliyah. The nightmares that hadn’t completed their trial became consumed by their sin. Ryland nearly lost his life due to his pride.

Was that what was happening to me?

Was I losing myself to my wrath?

Even as I thought this, I slammed my paws onto the chest of a gorgon. The snakes on her head slithered and hissed, demanding I make eye contact. I roared in her face, spit flying, and then swatted at her head with my claws.

Red consumed my vision—both figuratively and literally.

Blood.

So much blood.

I needed to kill, kill, kill. Nothing else mattered.

Rage burned white-hot in my gut, corroding away my insides, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

I had prided myself on being above my animalistic urges. But now I was nothing but a ball of unbridled anger just waiting to find an outlet.

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