Page 80 of Wrath

“Then that explains why he involved himself in this mess,” Atta finished with a weary sigh.

“Who’s this elusive ‘he’?” Devlin interjected.

Once again, Atta and Axel turned to stare at each other, having an entire conversation with just their eyes.

It was Atta who answered, though, her voice rife with reluctance. “Z’s father arrived at the capital.”

I blinked, certain I’d heard her wrong. “My father’s dead.”

He was torn apart by shifters. I saw him die with my own two eyes.

“Not your human father, little sister.” Axel pushed himself off the wall and ventured a few steps towards me. “Your…winged father.”

Shock surged through me like a lightning bolt. I couldn’t speak, couldn’t think, couldn’t even breathe. Barbed wire had coiled itself around my heart, and every beat of the organ caused the wire to sink its jagged teeth in farther.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Devlin kept his voice low, though I could sense the wrath simmering just beneath the surface.

“That there’s an angel in the capital?” Axel pursed his lips. “Yup.”

My legs gave out, and I would’ve fallen if Devlin hadn’t grabbed me, holding me upright. I turned in his embrace, and his arms wound around me.

“I got you, Z. I got you.” His husky voice flooded my body, infusing me in warmth, and I squeezed my eyelids shut. Shock and panic barraged me from all directions.

An angel was here. On earth. In the capital.

Not just any angel, though.

The same angel who’d allowed me to be raped, tortured, and then murdered in my past life because I dared to fall in love with the Seven Deadly Sins.

My father.

Gabriel.

“What is he doing there?” Lupe demanded.

A second later, his huge hand touched my back, rubbing soothing circles through my shirt.

“Absolutely nothing,” Atta answered.

“What do you mean?” Devlin asked, voicing my own question.

“What she means is that Daddy Dearest has been spending his days ordering servants around, sipping cheap wine, and lounging by the lake. He doesn’t seem to give a shit about the war unfolding around him.” Axel sounded slightly amused—maybe even a little impressed by the angel’s nonchalance.

“But this is where it gets strange,” Atta continued. “Apparently, he was a prisoner in the royal dungeons. Remember the man Laurel asked you to free?”

She directed this last question at Devlin, who stiffened, his arms turning into iron vises around my waist.

“That’s impossible.” A shudder rippled through my genie’s body. “The dungeons aren’t capable of holding a… They can’t hold an angel.”

Disbelief raised his tone in pitch.

“We think he took the place of the shifter originally imprisoned there. Or maybe inhabited the body of him. But why? We have no idea.” Atta sighed.

I finally pulled myself away from Devlin and pivoted on my heel. Both Atta and Axel stared at me, the former frowning insympathy and the latter attempting to balance his blade on the tip of his pointer finger but failing epically.

“The kings are still imprisoned,” Atta said. “Seth has been helping us keep them contained.”

Ryland’s father was the only one I would trust with something like that.

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