Wrath

appeared at the same moment I blurred toward the sounds. I didn’t get there quick enough, though. Broken tree limbs and gouges in the dirt showed there had been a struggle, but Victor and Sasha had taken their fight farther into the woods.

“Sasha,” I called, and I thought I heard something so I ran again. I’d moved way beyond the shield now, but Victor seemed to be alone. I didn’t sense any other mind signatures nearby, Daemoni or otherwise.

“She’ll be fine,” Tristan said when he caught up with me.

“We don’t know that!”

“Let her go,” he repeated, this time his voice lower and more demanding. “She’ll run him off and probably beat us back.”

“Unless she gets hurt again,” I protested. My muscles tensed in preparation for another sprint, but Tristan’s hand wrapped tightly around my upper arm, stopping me.

“Don’t be stupid,” he said, and he definitely growled now.

I jerked my arm out of his grip. “Don’t be an ass. I can’t let her get hurt again.”

“She can take care of herself.”

“And lose another wing?” I glared at Tristan as my chest heaved. “She’s not invincible, Tristan.”

“Neither are you!”

“Um, I’ll go look for her,” Vanessa said, her eyes bouncing between Tristan and me. “You need to get back in the shield.”

I opened my mouth to protest.

“He’s my idiot brother. My twin. I might be able to find out why he’s here while I’m at it.”

“Or I could,” I countered as I tapped my forehead.

“Alexis,” Tristan warned. “You can do that from the safe house.”

“Let me do this,” Vanessa said. “Go! Get your unprotected ass out of here.”

She left in a blur. Tristan grabbed my arm again, but I shook him off once more, still deciding whether or not to find Sasha myself. With a rumble in his chest, he snaked an arm around me and flashed us to right outside the safe house property. The air hummed as he carried me through the shield, and then he set me on my feet.

“That flash could have been really stupid,” I snapped. “We could have been trapped.”

“We were too close to the safe house. And don’t talk to me about being stupid.” His voice held that dangerous steel edge to it. I wasn’t used to it being directed at me.

“You need to chill out,” I said. “You’re way overreacting. It was only Victor. I can handle him easily. And like you said, we were close enough to the safe house.”

“It was still stupid. Damn it, Alexis, don’t you think about what it would do to me if something happened to you?” He shook his head, his sandy brown hair falling across his forehead. “Of course not. All you think about is yourself.”

My breath caught. I felt as though he’d slapped me. “How can you say that? I’m trying to think of everyone. Trying to take care of everyone and ensure they’re safe. Including Sasha!”

“Everyone except me,” he muttered, then his voice raised with each word spewing from his mouth. “You don’t give a damn what I feel every time you do something like this.”

“What?” I asked, at a loss for words. I didn’t know where this was suddenly coming from. I’d been good about controlling my impulses. Hadn’t I?

He stepped in front of me, towering over me, his muscles straining with control. He looked down at me with eyes sparking.

“You’re so damned focused on Dorian and everyone else, did you ever stop to think that I’m going through the same thing? That I’m this close to going on a killing spree as it is? I’m on the fucking edge, and it’ll be you who pushes me over.”

Exasperation ballooned within me, and my heart hammered against my chest. “You need to back off,” I said through clenched teeth as I pushed a finger into his chest. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you—”

“You don’t know what’s wrong with me?” he roared, making me jump. “My son is missing, and there’s nothing I can do about it! My wife seems to think it’s okay to go off and get herself killed, too! Do you realize the darkness that would throw me into? I’m about to explode as it is, Alexis. And you don’t know what’s wrong with me? Maybe if you opened your fucking eyes and looked at me for once, you’d know.”

I took a step back, blinking away traitor tears. My mouth opened and closed as words failed me. Had I really been so oblivious to him? I struggled to swallow, the answer constricting my throat. Yes, I had been. I’d been relying on him as my rock, the foundation to hold me up because my world was so close to crumbling around me. And he’d been that for me. He’d been my strength this whole time, but I’d failed to see he needed the same thing from me.

“I’m . . . I’m sorry,” I stammered, my voice small. “I didn’t know . . .”

He pushed his hands through his hair, and his ferocity deflated. “I know, ma lykita. Look, I’m sorry. I just . . . I guess I kept that pent up for too long.” He reached out for me, but I stepped away. His face softened, nearly crumpled. His hazel eyes darkened, filling with regret. Regret he didn’t need. “Lexi, I didn’t mean—”

I shook my head. “No, you did. And it’s okay because I deserved it. You’re right. I’ve been selfish. I haven’t considered your thoughts or your feelings, only thinking about myself and Dorian and everyone else except you. I’m . . . I’m sorry.”

I’d never been good at apologies. I’d always felt too embarrassed by my actions that had led me to the need for one. Especially with Tristan, whom I loved so much. I hated when I disappointed him. When I hurt him. So I did what I always did when I was in the wrong—I ran and hid like a child. I locked myself in our suite, curled up in a ball on our bed, and stared out the window, trying to block out all of my mistakes.

But I couldn’t help but see them now. All of those times Tristan had been broody or mad and rather than being there for him, I lumped him in with everyone else. We’d all been moody over the months. We couldn’t help it. When you meet disappointment followed by more disappointment, you’re bound to get cranky.

Tristan’s pain exceeded everyone else’s, though. It was my pain. Dorian was our son. Of course he’d been going through the same worries, fears, and frustration I had. I’d failed to see it, though. I’d failed as a wife. I hadn’t been there for my husband when he’d needed me most.

Tristan followed me upstairs and knocked on the door, insisting I let him in, but I pushed him away. Again. Twilight came before I finally had the nerve to face him and give a real apology. He’d been pacing the hallway or standing right by the door the whole time, so when I opened it, he practically fell on top of me.

He immediately swept me into his arms.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “so, so sorry, ma lykita. I shouldn’t have lost it with you. Not you. You’re my everything. You’re the last one—”

“Stop,” I said, my words muffled as I spoke against his chest. He held me so tightly I could barely breathe. “I’m the one who needs to apologize. I told you—you have nothing to be sorry about. You had every right to be angry with me. I’m sorry for not being there for you. You’ve been so perfect for me, and I didn’t return the favor. I didn’t give you what you need, what you deserve from your wife.” I pulled back to look up at him and squirmed an arm free to reach up and place my hand against his cheek. “I’m so sorry, Tristan. I love you more than anything. I’m sorry I hurt you.”

He shook his head. “Don’t. Let it go now. We know we need each other. We’re here for each other through good and bad.”

I nodded, and he leaned down and covered his mouth with mine. Tristan always had his ways, especially after an argument, and my body always responded, as it did now. He pushed me back into our suite and closed the door behind us with his foot while he continued to kiss me, his tongue exploring every bit of my mouth. I pressed into him, my nipples poking through my sports bra and his t-shirt to brush against his chest. His hands slid up my sides and grasped my rib cage, his thumbs sliding under the bra and rubbing against the bottom bulge of my breasts. He continued kissing me as he began to push up the bra.

But I stopped him. “Not here.”