Page 92 of Till Death and Daisies Bloom

“I am Wrath,” I said aloud.

The air shivered.

And for the first time in a long, long time …

I felt whole.

Chapter

Twenty-Four

GLUTTONY

I’d seen death before.

Hell, I’d dealt it out with flair. Watched blood run like spilled wine and heard the wet snap of necks under my hands. But this—this wasn’t death. It was vengeance.

Wrath.

The moment Wrath—Juniper—had punched through his chest and ribs with the ease of punching through paper, a peace I hadn’t known in centuries had settled over me.

Now, she lay in the center of my drawing room, her hand still clutching the wet, limp organ as she dripped blood onto my carpet.

For the first time in my life, I didn’t care.

We all sat, unsure of what to do now. Her awakening had been like riding a wave of energy so dense that even Envy looked rattled. Damon, smart bastard that he was, had absorbed the brunt and shunted us through shadows before Juniper could level a city block.

“Good kitty,” I said to him, giving him a good scratch behind his ears.

His purr was akin to the hum of a diesel engine.

The others spoke in hushed tones behind me. I didn’t care.

All I could see was her. Sprawled across my favorite arm chair, her chest rising slow and steady. Her hair fanned around her like a brown halo. There was blood all over, but none of it hers. It was Xavier’s; the last of him. She’d bitten through a scream so sharp it had shattered the air and drawn divine attention. I was sure of it.

“She’s still burning,” Pride murmured, crouched near her, hand hovering above her shoulder. “But it’s more...controlled now.”

“Controlled?” I scoffed. “We will have to work on her control.”

Wrath stirred.

Not gently, not like a woman waking from sleep. Her body jerked upright, like a marionette yanked on taut strings, and I swear the temperature dropped ten degrees. Her eyes were molten gold now—pure, wrathful energy. No flicker of brown. No soft confusion.

“I killed him,” she said. No regret. No apology.

I exhaled slowly. “Yes. You did.”

“I felt it. The moment he died, the bond broke. Whatever strings he had left in this world—they snapped. My name is Juniper Grey, but I am also Wrath.”

Pride rose to his feet beside her, eyes unreadable. “Do you remember everything?”

“I remember being Hazel,” she admitted. “I remember dying. I remember all the little ways I tried to survive. And I remember every damn moment you all pulled me back. I remember me.”

She turned to look at me.

I didn’t flinch—but only because I’m really fucking good at hiding fear.

“Thank you,” she said, voice oddly gentle. “You brought me home.”

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