Page 100 of The Devil's Wrath

I cupped her face, my thumb brushing away a stray tear. “You are more than enough, baby. You’re everything I never knew I needed. I don’t want anyone else. I only want you.”

She leaned into my touch, her eyes fluttering closed. “I want to believe you, Theo. But to be honest, a part of me is scared I’ll never be able to compete with the legacy of the Hunt.”

I pressed my forehead against hers, my voice low and fierce. “There is no competition. You’ve already won my heart, completely and irrevocably. The Hunt, The Brotherhood, none of it matters anymore. You’re my future, Wren.” She let out a shaky breath, her hands coming up to rest on my chest. “You know just as well as I do you will always belong to The Brotherhood. It’s in your blood.”

“I-I just don’t know if that’s true.”

I felt anger bubbling up in my chest. It was almost laughable when her goddamn father had been the leader of the whole organization before he’d been killed. I leaned back, my hands dropping from her face as I tried to process her words. I stood abruptly, pacing the room as I ran a hand through my hair in frustration.

“Theo, please say something,” she pleaded.

“I need a moment,” I responded.

I stepped onto the balcony, the cool night air hitting my face as I tried to calm the storm raging inside me. Her words echoed in my mind, each one like a dagger to my heart. How could she not see that she was already a part of The Brotherhood, whether she liked it or not? Her father’s legacy ran through her veins, just as my dad’s did mine. I gripped the railing tightly, my knuckles turning white as I stared at the grounds. The Brotherhood was her birthright.

Turning, I walked back through the room and out the bedroom door, my mind reeling from her words. I found myself in the garden, the cool night air doing little to calm my racing thoughts. I sat on a bench, my head in my hands as I tried to understand it all.

The sound of footsteps made me look up, and I saw Kai approaching. He sat down beside me and offered me a cigarette. I took it gratefully, lit it, and took a deep drag.

“You look like you could use a drink too,” he said, pulling a flask from his pocket and handing it to me.

I took a swig, the whiskey burning my throat. “Wren just told me she doesn’t think The Brotherhood is in her blood,” I scoffed.

He raised an eyebrow. “That’s a bold statement coming from the daughter of the former leader.”

I nodded, taking another drag. “I don’t understand it.”

He was silent for a moment, considering my words. “Maybe it’s notabout denying who she is, but about fighting for her place in the world, just like the rest of us.”

He was right, of course. “Goddamn, Kai. When did you get so smart?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Probably around the same time I fell in love with Haven. That woman has a way of putting things into perspective.”

I sighed, rubbing my face wearily. “I just want Wren to understand that she belongs here with me, with us. That to be with me means accepting that The Brotherhood is a part of her.”

“Then show her.”

I stood up, crushing the cigarette beneath my boot. “I have an idea, and I need your help.”

“I’m listening . . .”

THIRTY-FOUR

WRENLY

The funny thing about morning sickness was it didn’t always come in the morning. No, sometimes it woke you up when everyone was asleep, forcing you to sprint to the bathroom, hoping you wouldn’t blow chunks before you reached the toilet.

At 2:37 a.m., my stomach lurched violently, jolting me out of a restful sleep. I threw off the covers and stumbled out of bed, thankful I made it to the bathroom just in time, collapsing in front of the porcelain bowl as the contents of the amazing dinner I’d had made a hasty exit. The tiles felt cool against my feverish skin as I rested my cheek on the seat, waiting for the next wave to hit.

This wasn’t how I’d imagined pregnancy would be. All those glowing women in the magazines cradling their baby bumps with serene smiles—they never showed this part. The part where you’re hugging the toilet in the middle of the night, praying for the sickness to end.

When the wave of nausea finally subsided, I slumped against the wall, exhausted and miserable. I glanced at my reflection in the mirror, taking in my disheveled hair and the dark circles under my eyes. “You’re a real vision of motherhood, aren’t you?” I muttered to myself, letting out a humorless chuckle.

As I dragged myself back to bed, I sighed when I saw Theo’s sidestill empty. I’d been so close to telling him I was pregnant tonight, you know, in honor of the night’s baby theme, but at the last minute, I’d chickened out and word-vomited some bullshit about the Hunt to distract him from the fact that I was a coward. To be fair, I hadn’t been entirely untruthful about my concerns, but the Hunt was at the bottom of the pyramid of worries I had presently.

I decided to check for Theo downstairs before heading back to bed. Maybe he had fallen asleep with a bottle of whiskey in his hand and we could forget about this argument, fight, or whatever it was that had him absent from our bed. I pulled on an oversized T-shirt, satisfied that it fell mid-thigh.

The living room was dark except for the moonlight peeking through the curtains. I squinted, trying to make out Theo’s silhouette on the couch, but it was empty. I walked into the kitchen, hoping to find him there, but it was just as deserted. The only sign of life was the ticking of the clock on the wall, marking the passing seconds. I leaned against the counter, a sense of unease settling in my stomach. Or maybe it was just more nausea.

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