Chapter 44 – Hellion
Hellion was fuming when he stormed to the campus. People moved out of his way like he was bringing the plague and he didn’t give a damn. What the hell, pun fully fucking indented, was going on?
Who the hell was Wayla Stormwell and why was not only Esserieh, but his damned father interested in her, too? Everywhere he looked, only more questions arose.
It had been way too late when Sinister had popped back home and told everyone Wayla was all right.
That was it. She was all right, and he had nothing else to say about it.
Jarred had ignored all his calls, and so had Wayla.
Hellion had almost sought out Justin so he could have Irishen’s number. Almost.
Fuck.
At least one of his informants had texted that Wayla, Jarred, and Irishen had been spotted on campus now. Probably taking Wayla to her class. Damn right, they should be walking her to class after last night.
What had happened with Elena? He wanted answers, and he wanted them fucking now. He spotted Jarred first and lengthened his stride to catch up to him.
“Jarred!” At first, it seemed like he was going to ignore Hellion, but then he stopped and turned to face him.
“Not here, man,” he replied as soon as Hellion reached him.
Hellion knew Jarred had a point. They didn’t air their business out in the open. They had the basement for that, but he was too wound up to listen to reason right now.
“Where the fuck is she?” He moved closer, their noses almost touching as he glowered down at the shorter male.
“Let it go, Hellion,” Jarred snarled, not backing down. He could be a tenacious fucker when he so chose. They were gathering an audience now and whispers were flying all over the yard. Hellion gritted his teeth.
“No. Tell me. What the fuck is going on?”
Jarred took a step forward, bumped straight into him, and growled. “Not here, Hellion.”
“I demand—”
“I’m right here,” Wayla spoke behind him, so softly it was almost a breeze in the air. “And if you don’t step away from my Claimed right this very second, I will tear your fucking head off.”
Hellion’s eyes first dropped to Jarred’s neck. His breath stalled when he saw the silvery scars he had missed before. Then he whirled, eyes locking onto similar scars on Wayla’s neck.
Claimed marks.
They were bonded.
“Love, it’s all right,” Jarred said and moved a step away from Hellion, but Wayla’s gaze didn’t waver.
“Claimed?” Hellion shouted. His hands trembled slightly and made him even more furious. “You fucking bonded?”
That got a reaction from the crowd, but Hellion couldn’t bring himself to care. They were truly Claimed?
Jarred got a stupid smile on his face that spread into a grin. “Yeah. She’s my Claimed.”
“Fu—” Hellion’s curse got cut short when thunder rumbled above, drowning out all other sounds. The sky had been clear moments ago.
His focus slowly returned to Wayla. Electricity crackled and ran up and down her arms. Slowly, he lifted his gaze. She stared at him with murder in her eyes. He had never seen her look like that.
“Step. Away. From. My. Claimed.”
Her eyes were glowing with inner lightning and she looked like she was seconds away from tearing into Hellion, prepared to defend her Claimed against him. Jarred gathered the same because he moved himself slightly between Hellion and Wayla and lifted his hands.
“It’s all right, love. Hellion wouldn’t hurt me.”
Wayla’s eyes didn’t move from Hellion’s, but she held a hand out for Jarred to take and tugged the male to stand behind her back. Hellion snorted. She really thought—
“Mate, stop!”
The order rang clear just as a lightning bolt formed in Wayla’s palm. Her head canted to the side just as Irishen stormed over. His eyes were locked on Wayla and he didn’t hesitate to walk straight into her and smash her between himself and Jarred, fully obscuring her from view.
Hellion tried to hear what was said, but the thunder kept rumbling above until between one breath and the next, it dissipated like it never had been.
“That’s it, good mate,” Irishen murmured.
Everything in Hellion froze. Mate. He had called her mate.
“What’s going on?” Grant shouted as he jogged over. He was looking up at the clearing sky, at Hellion, and at the trio smashed together. The students and faculty made way for him. “Wayla?” Grant questioned when he got close. “Is she all right?”
“They—she…” Hellion didn’t know what to say. Whispers around them were turning into a loud babble. Grant stepped in to stave off the fallout.
“Close ranks. Idiots.” He pulled out his phone. “Sinister, I need a retrieval. Yeah, if he’s up to it. Six. Got it.”
Before Hellion had time to process any of it, a portal opened next to Grant and Sinister stepped through with Zahir, who was finally starting to look like himself.
Even with Ilijas’s help, it had taken too fucking long for him to heal in this realm and the bastard had refused to go back to Hell to recharge.
Not that Hellion could blame him for that.
“Wayla?” Sinister asked and Hellion pointed at the trio. Sinister nodded. “Grant, you are with me. Zahir, can you grab Hellion?”
“Sure,” Zahir replied with an eye roll. “Nothing like grabbing the prince of hell…”
“Let’s move it,” Grant urged.
“Okay, shrimp,” Sinister said as he moved closer to the trio. “I need you not to zap me to the next realm when I move you, okay?”
“Sin?”
“I’m here, shrimp. You’re causing a bit of a scene, so we need to relocate.”
“Oh… okay.”
“Just somewhere where you can blast them in peace,” Sinister added with a glare in Hellion’s direction.
Some of the static tension drained from the air and Wayla stuck her arm out from her male sandwich. “Okay.”
Sinister didn’t hesitate as he clasped her hand and Grant grabbed his shoulder. A portal opened and everyone stepped through, leaving Hellion and Zahir behind.
“I—”
“Nope,” Zahir cut him off and opened another portal before grabbing Hellion’s arm. “Off we go.”