He only existed within Alek for a specific purpose, so he saw no need to take to the surface anyway. He was allowed back on earth with a strict caveat in place. One major stipulation was that he wasn’t allowed to terrorize the world. So he’d lain dormant for many years, content where he was. Anything was better than the Underworld, which was where he’d been for the last millennium, until he’d received an offer he hadn’t been able to refuse. Cohabiting with a shifter didn’t sound like the worst idea he’d ever been propositioned with. The legacy of the Volkov descendants was as old as time. Wolf was a warrior, and at first Wrath had been honored to meet his spirit, to work alongside it to protect Mother Nature’s shifters in their time of greatest need. But he’d never imagined things would turn out the way they had… and end the way that it would.
I thought you said you wanted to rewrite the Prophesy, Aleksei? LIES! All you’re really doing is following right along with it, Wrath fumed. With Bell we had a chance.
Alek was silent, and Wolf was rejecting him in every way he could wanting to side with Alek.
IDIOTS. YOU LET YOUR MATE GET AWAY AND NOW YOU WEEP. Wrath bashed around some more, the rage feeling like an addictive drug to him. Always had. The madder he got the better he felt. With that, Wrath released another burst of blazing energy that made the iron bars glow a brilliant orange. Heat blasted all around him but did nothing to free him. Alek had constructed a faultless confinement that even Wrath couldn’t destroy—thick walls constructed out of a magnesium and copper blend, resistant to his flames of fury.
Wrath seethed and cursed, unleashing all the vengeful hate he was accustomed to, and comfortable with. He stood in Wolf’s magnificent form, but he was bigger, and with enhanced strength. Also far darker than any Volkov wolf should look and feel. Wolf’s typically gleaming gray fur that covered his chest, underbelly, and the tip of his tail was now jet black, with Wrath in control.
He howled like a banshee as Alek and Wolf continued to wage a war of silence against him. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be, this wasn’t the life he’d been promised. He was starting to feel as if the Mother had betrayed him, but he knew that was impossible. Deceit couldn’t dwell within her. There was something Wrath had missed or failed to do that’d made him lose favor, or her blessing. Or Alek had. Shit, either way he was pissed, and he was going to show it until their final day. When, or if Alek died, Wrath would be sent back to Hell. Home.
Just stop, stop okay. There’s nothing down here for you to kill, maim, or destroy, so stop wasting energy. I’ll never let you out no matter how much you beat us up and curse. I’d rather die here alone than allow you to do anything else to my pack. Or go anywhere near my mate.
IT’S NOT JUST YOUR PACK. YOUR MATE. I CAN PROTECT THEM TOO!
By killing them? Alek asked solemnly.
THAT WAS AN ACCIDENT, Wrath growled.
Yes. One that cost us everything, Wolf snarled. Even each other. Look at us. We we’re supposed to be this grand thing. A force to be reckoned with. But all we do is scare away family… friends… our mate.
Why was he even still listening to them, allowing them to speak? He should cut the link and let his mind war in peace. He didn’t want to listen to the whining and blaming any longer, but he wanted Wolf and Alek to continue to feel his rage. He’d long ago confessed to being wrong in splitting from them all those years ago to act on his own, but he’d thought he was doing the right thing for a change. He should’ve known better. His apology for using such excessive force that day that ended up costing some of the conquering pack their lives, had fallen on deaf ears.
From then on Wrath’s presence on Earth was once again deemed an abomination or threat that needed eliminating… or confining. He didn’t know why he thought his life would’ve been any different in this form. He would always be hated and feared. It had been prophesied that Wrath could be touched by affection, and could therefore react rationally; but to this day he’d never encountered anyone who could, or even would try to love him. Not until he’d looked into the slate-gray eyes of Belleron Liatos. Never had he seen anything so striking, or smelled a man so captivating. These were all foreign feelings, and new words to his vocabulary, yet they formed in his head so easily when he thought of the fierce vampire. Wrath hadn’t meant to burn Belleron when he’d reached out to grab him, he’d just been using too much energy to break through the surface, and it’d spilled out onto him. I was only intending to stop him from leaving. Restrain him. What was wrong with that?