Bell couldn’t wait another second. He flooded their link with his concern, and Wrath answered immediately, his deep voice a tantalizing relief to hear. “Coming out.”
“He’s coming out ri—”
Wrath exploded out of one of the lower windows, causing the crowd to go insane with cheers. Bell watched him walk towards the sobbing woman on the ground, in Alek’s beautiful form, cradling a very wounded and burned vampire, but an alive vampire.
She broke down as her mate was placed in her arms. His breathing was shallow, but with enough blood and rest, he’d heal with time. She sobbed ‘thank you’ over and over as she cradled her unconscious mate. The friend hurried over to her—waving away the paramedics who were cautiously approaching—with tears of joy streaming down her round cheeks. “Jenna, let’s get him to my clinic, now. We have to hurry.”
The woman stood and let more vampires rush over to help her. The crowd had tripled in size and many were wanting to see what the King and Lord High had done and, most importantly, what kind of shifters could run into a fire and not get burned. One of Justice’s security from the other vehicles hurried and gave Wrath a pair of sweat pants to put on while he stood close to Bell. Justice and Wick addressed the crowd to give what Bell assumed would be a sort of explanation. He took Wrath’s hand and led them back to the vehicles. Once they were inside, Bell moved close enough that their thighs touched.
Wrath was panting, however his voice was composed, “You were worried, Belleron? About me? I said I’d be back.”
“I still didn’t like it.”
Wrath watched him until Bell could no longer gaze back into those intense eyes. “Were you worried for me… or Aleksei?”
“All three,” Bell replied, without reluctance. And he didn’t have to think about it. When he thought of his beloved. He thought of them all. His lover, his protector, and his god. How could Bell not be concerned for each one? He reached up slowly and cupped Wrath’s stern jaw. It was solid, not as pliant as Alek’s.
Bell moved in closer when Wrath’s eyes went down to his hand that rested against his hot skin. He looked confused, but his reaction told Bell just how hopeful Wrath was that this was real. He tried to lean forward but Wrath inched away, keeping distance between them.
“Why are you pulling away from me?” Bell wondered if the god was immune to his touch. But from all he’d learned of Wrath, he had the capability to love hard and be loved in return. Because all gods wanted to be praised.
The inside of the SUV was dark and they’d somehow blocked out the chaotic sounds of the tragic scene still going on around them. Wrath’s eyes were the only light in the truck, and it was like a beacon, luring Bell in. Was this part of Wrath’s powers? He didn’t think so. It was as if Wrath had no clue why he was feeling the way he was. As if he wanted to touch him and love him, but didn’t understand why.
“No one touches me… like this… or wants to…” Wrath blinked, still watching Bell’s hand as he grazed his thumbnail down to the pulse that was beating like mad beneath the damp skin on Wrath’s neck.
Bell watched the vein throbbing under his fingertips. He swallowed, licking his lips at the thought of Wrath’s blood coating his throat. He knew it’d taste different, and suddenly he wanted it… wanted it right from the source. Bell inhaled, his senses flooded with Wrath’s vigorous scent which was composed of earth and smoke. Inside the confines of the vehicle, Bell didn’t mask his hunger… or his arousal.
“I don’t know what it is when you look at me that way, Belleron.” Wrath breathed heavily, his big hand clutching Bell’s over his throat. “I don’t know what this is I’m feeling when I’m this close to you.”
“I feel it too,” Bell confessed.
They were quiet for a moment and Bell didn’t press, no matter how much his throat burned to quench his thirst. He knew Wrath was out of his element. No one had taken the time to try to touch his soul, too afraid of getting burned. Wrath, his father, his uncles, his grandfather, were all known to be devious tricksters and it wasn’t like the rulers of the Underworld to put their own desires before the needs of others.
“Do you? Really?” Wrath questioned.
Bell tried to show Wrath his most gentle touch, one infused with craving and admiration. It took effort not to go straight for that thick, sweaty chest that was still on display, and instead he touched Wrath’s jugular and massaged the raging flood of his energy to that one place. Wrath’s heat swirled around them as he again marveled at Bell caressing him.