Page 26 of Wrath

On and on this continued. I threw the sledgehammer at the wall with all my might, sweat dripping down my forehead and plastering my shirt to my skin, while Z teased me mercilessly. I felt as if I’d been pounding on the wall for hours, yet there was only a fist-sized crack in the plaster. If I had any doubt before, it dissipated.

Some sort of magic imbued this wall.

Motherfucker.

Still, I wasn’t going to give up. I refused to.

I swung and swung and swung. My arms—which were already sore from the contortions I’d put them through trying to grab the key—ached and felt as if they were seconds from popping out of their sockets. So much sweat and debris covered me that I imagined I would need at least five baths to clean myself completely.

At one point, Z told me to take a breath, that she would be okay, that she could hear how haggard my breathing had become.

I simply snarled at her and continued hitting at the damn wall.

Hours later, when my arms felt like lead and my knees were trembling, the hole in the wall was big enough for me to slip through. I had to arch my back in a way that probably made me look like a camel, but soon I was in Z’s room.

The sight of her nearly broke my damn heart.

“Z!” I breathed, stumbling towards her.

My legs threatened to give out from underneath me, but sheer determination and stubbornness kept me upright.

“My hero,” she whispered breathily, her lids drooping.

Dark bruises marred the skin of her shoulders and upper back, and I imagined she’d gotten them when she was attempting to deliver the key to me.

Fierce anger rose to life, and I never wanted to murder someone more than I did Lilith. And that was saying something, considering we had a list of enemies more than a mile long.

I tugged the cot in her room closer to her, then stood on it, reaching forward to cut at the strange band around her neck. Red, mottled skin greeted me as soon as I removed the restraint.

“I’m going to kill that bitch,” I growled, already moving on to her wrists.

“Why do I have to have such a fucked-up family?” Z asked, her tone drowsy, her head lolling against her chest.

“Why don’t we just kill all of our parents and become orphans?” I suggest, only half kidding.

Okay, a quarter kidding.

Z snorted. “Except for Seth. I like him.”

“Yeah, he’s one of the good ones,” I admitted, thinking of Ryland’s father.

We discovered a short bit ago that the shadow king was actually a member of the human resistance. He had been trying to help humans this entire time. When the other kings discovered this, they locked him away.

I finally cut away the last sliver of rope, and Z slumped forward. I caught her before she hit the ground, and the two of us fell onto the cot, me on my back with her on top.

She lifted her head slightly to smile at me—a sad, weary, droopy smile that made my heart squeeze like it was being fed to a meat grinder.

“Hi,” she breathed shakily.

I smirked and brushed at a strand of her curly hair. “Hi.”

“You’re stinky,” she said, ever the romantic.

“Right back at you.”

With a tired, contented sigh, she rested her cheek on my chest. My arms came around her instinctively, holding her to me.

“Where do we go next?” Her voice sounded muffled from where her lips pressed to my shirt. “How do we get out of here?”

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