Maybe he couldn’t. Bell told Alek not to follow him. He didn’t say anything about one of the others.
Wrath was drawn to Bell’s rage the second he’d let it tear through his heart. He flexed his neck, feeling his body expand. It felt good to come forward in this form again; he was exceptionally powerful as a human. He stilled, letting his hot energy course through him, relishing in the glory of being out and free. He had complete control again, because most importantly he had Wolf and Alek’s trust. He wouldn’t let them down anymore.
Go after him, he needs you right now, not me.
Wrath stood rooted to one place, his waves beginning to spread from his chest, altering the temperature around them.
Hey. Alek said in that deep but somehow gentle tone that Wrath realized he used when he was feeling empathetic. It’s okay to be nervous.
Is that what he was? Nervous? He didn’t recall ever feeling this sensation before. It wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t necessarily good either. He began to shake and his lower belly ached with pressure, a swarming need to find Bell and quench his anger. He heard his fast steps which were almost at the cabin before they came to a swift stop. Wrath listened to the sound of Bell’s erratic breathing, his accelerated pulse and his aching heart. Even if he’d wanted to continue to avoid Bell, he couldn’t. Not now. Not when he could feel how much he needed him.
Wrath felt Alek retreat as far down as he could and curl himself around Wolf. After a few seconds, the alpha cleared their link and left him alone. Wrath stared off into the distance and reached out to Bell with his mind, not liking when he didn’t answer back.
“Your rage drives me to you, fragile mate. Your anger upsets you terribly, but it feels wonderful inside of me. I can take it from you and make you feel better.” Wrath started a fast jog that quickly morphed into his extraordinary speed. He skidded to a sudden stop just before the cabin when he lost Bell’s scent. He hadn’t gone any farther than this point, he was certain. Wrath frowned, turning in a complete circle, not seeing Bell anywhere. As if moving in slow-motion, his lips curved into a wide smile as he craned his head and searched high into the massive conifer tree. “My little bird.” Wrath smirked, then shot himself upwards.
When he got to the top, Bell was straddling a branch, both his arms braced behind him, staring at the dark clouds passing over them. “Stop calling me that.”
“Admit it. You like it when I do,” Wrath said, inching forward.
Bell didn’t agree, but he didn’t miss the slight twitch of that thick bottom lip. “I admit I like the view. Things do seem a bit clearer up here.”
“Are you cold?” Wrath asked, though he was already extending his hand and pushing his heatwaves in Bell’s direction.
“Oh, wow, okay. Yes. That’s enough.” Bell pulled at his collar, then opened a couple of buttons on his vest. “Plenty warm enough now. Thank you.”
Oops. Maybe Wrath overdid it on that part. He hadn’t meant to cook his poor bird. He groaned when Bell wiped at a bead of sweat forming on his temple. Feeling like he’d already messed up—damn this nerve thing—Wrath took a deep breath then tried to think of a different approach. He stood there awkwardly, balancing himself on multiple branches. Bell reminded him that he was naked, as those smoky, gray eyes trailed up and down his body, stopping at his…. Wrath felt his groin heat without his permission.
He crouched down and crawled over until he was between Bell’s thighs. “Why’d you run away from Alek, Belleron? You hurt him when you did.”
“I know.” Bell shook his head, his eyes squeezing shut as if he was playing some dreadful scene behind his lids. “But knowing you were in there… and so upset. Feeling unwanted. Alone. It hurts me, too. A lot. I won’t stand for you to be hurt again… by anyone.”
“You got upset because of something that was done to me?” Wrath needed to make sure he understood clearly. No one, and he meant no one, had ever cared enough about him to give his feelings a second thought. Especially when he’d been raised in the Underworld by relatives who thrived on evil. Wrath had never been worth getting distraught about. No one stood for him. No one had ever volunteered to be his champion. He wasn’t one of the demigods people prayed to when they were in need. Not unless they were praying to keep him away. He’d grown used to being loathed and had learned to live with the rage that would forever consume him if his heart wasn’t touched.
Bell eased forward, spreading his legs wider, and Wrath was able to feel his warm breath on his cheek. He followed Bell’s hand with his eyes, shaking when it landed on his chest. The touch felt as if he’d been hit with a bolt of lightning. “Yes. I care about you very much, Ira.”