Chapter Forty-Two
CASSIA
I CAN’T BE angry with Rexton for doing his job—especially while we’re meeting with the generals. It’s counterproductive, and he’s annoyed by my constant outbursts. I understand why, but I can’t figure out how to stop my fears.
It’s one thing to tell myself not to be angry.
I try my best to prepare mentally, but I still worry about what’s going to happen in the moment.
Even if Rexton doesn’t currently want Wrath, I have no way of knowing he won’t change his mind someday.
Wrath is enticing. Power is enticing. He’ll grow to love it, to crave it.
Wraths always do.
Rexton digs through his closet, picking out clean clothing for me to change into. Mine are soaked in blood from the ambush, and I refuse to put them back on. I refuse to clean them, either. They belong in the garbage.
The clothing Rexton eventually hands me reeks of him, his scent penetrating every inch of the fabric. It’s not uncommon for clothing to smell like its owner, but it usually fades between washings. This clothing isn’t clean. It’s lightly worn.
“Why?” I ask.
Rexton shrugs. “Humor me.”
“Not until you tell me why you want me to wear your dirty clothing.”
“Do I really need to explain myself, Cassia?” Rexton raises an eyebrow. “Have you never been with a man who wishes for you to smell like him?”
No.
Yes.
Not really.
Wren is the only man I’ve formally dated in my adult life, but he never asked that of me. I’m sure he would’ve been highly complimented if I had smelled of him. He loved dating me, loved the attention and proximity to power that came with it.
He never asked me to wear his clean clothing, though, let alone his dirty ones. It’s probably because he knew I would’ve rejected the request. I never fully trusted that Wren wasn’t only with me because of my title and connections, and I kept him at arm’s length.
That decision turned out to be the correct one. Wren is a cheating bastard and walking in on him and that Lust woman is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. My life is better without him.
I brush my fingers over Rexton’s clothing.
I’m meeting with Aziel and the generals soon. If I want to wear my own clothing, I should teleport to my apartment now. I might be a few minutes late, but at least I’ll smell like myself. Do I want to smell like myself?
Rexton dresses, pretending not to be paying me any attention. He is. He’s shooting me occasional sideways glances, his black eyes darting between me and the clothing I’ve yet to change into.
I washed the scent of my orgasm off me, removing any traces of what Rexton and I did in the shower. I’m not ashamed of my adult activities, but parading around my father while reeking of sex isn’t something I’m interested in.
I’d be frustrated if he attended a meeting smelling of my mother or fathers. I know it happens. I understand how children are made, and my mother has birthed four of them, but I don’t need to smell the evidence.
Fresh fabric hits me in the face. It’s Rexton’s, and it’s clean. It smells faintly of him, but somebody would have to be directly beside me to recognize it.
“Get dressed,” he says. “It’s time to go.”
I frown. “Don’t rush me. I’m thinking.”
“Think later. We’re going to be late.”
I resist the urge to scream. This is a big decision, and I don’t appreciate being rushed. Rexton and I are bonded—there’s no hiding that—but wearing his dirty clothing is a statement. Letting his scent cover mine is ownership, and I need people to know I’m in charge.
Rexton owns no part of me.
I set his dirty clothing aside, then slip into his clean ones. He doesn’t acknowledge my decision, and I ignore the guilt that seeps up my throat as I button up his pants and tuck in his shirt. I’m no small woman. I’m tall and strong, but Rexton’s clothing is still large.
I’m by no means swimming in the fabric, but it’s unflattering.
There’s nothing I can do about it now. The opportunity to return home and change into my own clothing has passed, and we need to leave.
“Ready?” Rexton asks. I nod, and he takes my hand, avoiding eye contact. “Can you teleport us?”
My breath hitches. How exhausted is Rexton that he’s asking me to teleport him? I’d rather die than ask somebody to teleport me, to admit to just how drained I am. Rexton brought me to camp after I was speared, but I didn’t ask for it. I never would’ve asked.
I reach for Rexton through the bond, but his walls remain firmly in place. Is he still upset with me? Is it because I didn’t put on his dirty clothing?
I squeeze his hand, prodding again at his bond, before teleporting us to Wrath’s headquarters. It’s a quick walk to Aziel’s meeting room, and I’m pleased to see my father and the generals have also showered and changed. I’m not the only one.
Rexton tries to pull his hand from mine before entering the room, but I refuse to release him.
I practically drag him inside, scanning for a chair.
Everybody is standing, but they didn’t take a spear through the chest. I find a chair in the corner of the room, and I don’t care about the odd looks I’m receiving as I drag it over.
“Sit,” I order Rexton.
He quirks a brow. “Thank you, but I prefer to stand.”
“Sit!” My voice squeaks, and I clear my throat before continuing. “Please.”
Aziel sucks his cheeks into his mouth and busies himself with something at the far end of the room. If he’s uncomfortable seeing me care for Rexton, that’s his issue to work through. It’s my responsibility to keep Rexton healthy.
His strength directly reflects mine, after all. I don’t want people to think my mate is weak.
Rexton pushes the chair aside, his eyes meeting mine. He lets his side of the bond open, and I wince as I’m bombarded with annoyance, embarrassment, and just a tiny hint of amusement.
Is it because of me? I glance between him and the chair, my lips pursing. I’d be infuriated if he tried making me sit at a table full of standing generals. I would kill him.
I’m just trying to help.
Rexton places a hand on the small of my back, and I hope my reddening cheeks aren’t apparent as I turn toward the table. Rexton stands on my right, and after a few seconds, Aziel joins me on my left.
We don’t acknowledge one another.
Raum storms into the room with a large, rolled-up map underneath his arm.
He’s still covered in evidence of war—blood and other questionable body fluids—and he looks uncharacteristically disheveled as he squeezes between Aziel and me, his broad shoulders bumping into us.
It’s a disrespectful action that would earn any other Wrath an immediate dismissal, but Aziel snorts and quietly steps aside.
Raum’s careful to always be respectful, but he’s obviously distracted. He lays the map across the table, then snatches four heavy items to pin down the corners.
“Prince Nolic is a sneaky bastard,” he starts. He points south, toward the lava fields. There’s a small area where our borders touch, but it’s uninhabitable. A large pool of lava separates our kingdoms, and there’s no way across it.
Many have tried, and all have died.
“The fifty thousand troops he was marching toward our mountain borders were a distraction,” Raum says.
He jabs his finger against the lava fields.
“While we were watching them, Prince Nolic was building a tunnel underneath the lava fields. Our scouts found evidence of construction about twenty miles north of the lava field. They must have dug underground, just far enough to cross into Wrath’s borders and teleport. ”
Aziel leans forward, resting his palms against the table.
I drag a hand through my hair. Sneaky bastard, indeed. The lava fields are unpredictable, and digging underneath is a risky endeavor. There are a few shallow areas, but if you hit a spot where magma funnels up from the deep underground, you and your entire team are as good as dead.
Raum continues. “It appears the tunnels they built didn’t hold up. They collapsed within themselves, which is why the attack seemed to stop so suddenly. Androl took a tally of about seven thousand Greed casualties.”
“How many Wraths?” I ask.
Raum frowns. “Roughly fifteen hundred dead, one thousand injured.”
My heart drops.
That’s high, especially when compared to the number of Greeds we fought. We should’ve crushed them. I hoped the total count of dead and injured would be below a thousand.
Raum drops a heavy hand onto my shoulder. “This was an ambush, Cassia. You couldn’t have planned for it, and you handled it well.”
Rexton’s fingers curl against my lower back, and Raum briefly makes eye contact with him before dropping his hand from my shoulder. I’m uninterested in Rexton’s dick-measuring contest. Despite what Raum claims, twenty-five hundred injured and dead is a high count.
I clear my throat. “Where’s Prince Nolic?”
Raum shrugs and glances around the table. None of the other generals speaks up. Nobody knows where he disappeared to. Wonderful.
“The hundred soldiers he was traveling with were found deep within Greed’s borders. They retreated shortly after the ambush began,” Raum says. “But there’s been no sighting of the prince. We suspect he snuck into Wrath during the chaos.”
That’s my fear, too.
What could Prince Nolic possibly be doing inside Wrath? Is he after my family? Rexton? I can’t fathom what he’d want if not revenge. That’s what I’d be after. That’s the whole reason I snuck into Greed in the first place. Mammon murdered my brother, and I was going to murder her.
That privilege was stolen from me, though. At least I now own the man who stole it from me. In a roundabout way, I now also own the privilege of having murdered Mammon.
Aziel looks toward me. He’s waiting for me to speak. The control he’s giving me is dizzying, and I don’t understand where the sudden change is coming from. Just a few weeks ago, he was telling me he didn’t know if he’d ever trust me to lead Wrath.
I clear my throat. “Let’s keep an eye on Greed’s troops, but let’s not make any movements until we know what Prince Nolic’s after.
” I turn toward the general across the table from me.
He’s the youngest of them, and he’s one of the few I feel comfortable giving direct orders to.
“Find Prince Nolic. I want to know where he’s disappeared to, and if he’s within Wrath, I want him brought in alive. ”
The general nods.
I begin working with the others on a plan. Rexton chimes in with a few questions, but he leaves the strategy planning to me. Aziel does, too. It’s a lot of pressure, but I think I’m doing a relatively good job of not crumbling underneath it. I’m trying my best not to.
Rexton’s touch helped. He took some of the edge off, pulling me down from the edge of losing control.
It’s almost an hour of planning before I fall silent, out of thoughts.
Aziel turns toward me. “Is there anything else, Cassia?”
I pause, thinking it over, before shaking my head. I’m not eager to rush into battle without knowing what Prince Nolic has planned. We’ll prepare our troops, but we need more information before making any moves.
“Great.” Aziel brings his hands together, shifting his attention to the generals. “I’m sure you’re all eager to see your families…” He eyes Raum. “And to shower. Let’s reconvene later this week. I’ll have time put on our schedules.”
The room empties with startling speed.
“I’d like to speak with you alone, Cassia,” Aziel says.
I knew this was coming.
Rexton steps out of the room, leaving me alone with Aziel. My father looks exhausted as he sinks into the chair I tried forcing Rexton into earlier, and he slouches forward before grabbing the arm of another chair and dragging it toward me.
“Sit.”
I drop, relieved to be off my feet.
“I want to discuss the ambush,” Aziel starts. “You’re disappointed by the casualty counts?”
I half-shrug, half-nod.
Aziel continues. “You handled yourself well today. The counts were high, but it was an ambush. They’re expected to be higher than usual. You impressed the generals today, and you impressed me.”
I shrug. “There were seven thousand Greeds, and fifteen hundred Wraths were injured or killed. Even for an ambush, those are bad numbers.”
Aziel leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “We were ambushed, Cassia. We underestimated Prince Nolic, and that’s something we all share the blame for. We learned from this, and we’ll do better next time. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
I chew my bottom lip, ripping at the skin until I taste blood.
Aziel continues. “Once things with Prince Nolic have settled, I’d like for us to begin discussing a formal transition.”
It takes a minute for those words to register. Does that mean what I think it means? Is he serious?
“…A formal transition?”
“Yes.” Aziel nods. “Seeing you take charge these past few weeks, moving past your hatred of Rexton and volunteering to join Raum’s war camp, has been eye-opening.
You’ll always be my baby girl, but you’re an adult and it’s time I begin treating you as one.
I haven’t been fair to you, and for that, I’m sorry.
It’s time for you to take a more active role within Wrath’s leadership. ”