Page 103 of Wrath

“We’re on the. Same. Damn. Side.” I leveled him with a penetrating glare. “We can either work together and share with each other what we know?—”

“Or we kill you,” Bash cut in.

I threw my mage brother a droll look. “We’re not killing him.”

“But—”

“We’re not killing him,” I repeated.

We were better than that, better than our fathers.

“You’re beginning to sound like Ryland,” Killian murmured to Bash as he jumped off of Turner and extended a hand for the human to take.

Turner, of course, ignored the proffered limb and jerkily pushed himself into a sitting position.

“Ryland could only dream of having my sass,” Bash retorted.

Turner ignored their bickering as he clumsily got to his feet, brushing at a few leaves that had gotten tangled in his hair.

“So what do you say?” I asked. “Are we working together, or are we leaving you here?”

An internal battle waged in Turner’s eyes—his distrust for us weighing against his need to free the humans. After a long moment, he nodded once, the barest dip of his chin.

“Tell us everything you know,” I instructed.

Because we needed to make a plan as soon as possible.

By this time tomorrow, we would free all of those humans.

Or we would die trying.

THIRTY-THREE

AXEL

Ididn’t trust Z’s “father” farther than I could throw him—which probably wouldn’t be very far. I was a hugger, not a fighter.

If my hugs included stabbing my victims in the back.

He said his name was “Peter,” but I knew that was a lie. Maybe at one point, the person with that face was named Peter, but not anymore.

What did he want with us? With Z? If he wanted to help, he could at any time, but he never did. All he did was sleep, eat, and fuck anything that moved. Just this morning, I caught him thrusting into that genie, Laurel, in the middle of the hallway.

Every alarm bell in my head was going off at once.

“Axel?” Mary-Lynette frowned up at me from where she stood in the middle of the room, her hands engulfed in orange flames.

I shook myself out of my reverie and smiled down at my semi-adopted daughter. And I said “semi-adopted” because I wasn’t sure if my acquisition of her qualified as “adopting” her. Isort of looked at her, declared her as my kid, and then took her with me. Ahh. Fatherly love.

“Just thinking.” I ruffled her brown hair before nodding back towards the target on the opposite side of the room. “Try again.”

Mary-Lynette’s tiny face scrunched with determination as she took a deep breath. Then she raised her hand and cast her fire at the rubber dummy.

It missed.

“Again,” I instructed.

“I don’t want to.” She pouted and folded her arms over her chest. “I suck.”

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