The Legend of Wrath

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Chapter 13

Artemis took a single step toward the doorframe. Wrath, however, stood his ground. Two pairs of brown eyes magnetized. One pair higher than the other since Wrath was taller and broader than the female alpha. But by no means did his masculinity establish his dominance. Artemis was as hard-headed as he was. And this could be proved by her expression which was currently painted with determination.

She watched his jaw tighten and the muscles in his arms flex; signaling the intensified conflict inside him. In a split second, his eyes jumped from hers to the trees behind her. She knew that he was blocking the entry because he was wondering if offering her shelter was a bright idea. In other words, contemplating his last chance to bail out. She also knew that if he chooses what didn’t please her, she would show him just how hard-headed she was.

She wasn’t leaving. Although unbeknownst to her, the genealogy of two ferocious alphas composed her existence. Alphas rarely took no for an answer. This was not going to be one of those instances.

Wrath hadn’t been this torn in a long time. He wanted her safe from the storm. But he also wanted her safe from him. And she couldn’t be safe from him if she was sleeping under his roof. But if she slept outside a tree could very well fall and crush her.

This was an all-around disastrous situation.

Hesitantly, he took a step away from her before disconnecting their stare and walking to his corner. Artemis’ eyes remained locked on his bare back until he quietly disappeared behind a stack of books.

With a ghostly sigh, Artemis walked in and settled by the entrance. She sat on the floor, laid her back against a wall, encased her legs with her arms, and began processing her irritated emotions. Being patient was easier said than done when dealing with a mate who seemed eager to get rid of you, had depression and or a personality disorder, and could only communicate with you through glares and hand gestures.

Luna was almost as frustrated as Artemis was. She watched Wrath pick up a book and use it to distract himself from a particular pesky presence.

Oh no you don’t, the goddess thinks to herself.

She inhaled deeply, and then focused all of her energy into the darkness swirling above the two. As she worked her magic on the storm, the conditions successfully worsened. Wind entered through the door and tossed books round like bullets. The cabin simultaneously swayed from side to side, nails becoming looser with every shift.

Artemis rushed to her feet. “We need to do something! It will collapse!” she screamed over the howling of wind and splattering of rain. Wrath inevitably agreed. He snatched his toolbox and ran outside with Artemis on his heels.

They were instantly soaked by rain and mud. Blows of wind attempted to knock them off their feet but they shakily made it around the cabin. There, Artemis spotted a large collection of wood. Wrath picked up a long panel and carried it over to the side of the cabin. He propelled the wood against it, swept an arm across his wet face, and then bent to retrieve nails and a hammer. He looked up when a pair of sneakers appeared beside them. Artemis stood next to him, hands on the wood to hold it in place and eyes wide with alert.

He retrieved his tools and they got to work.

Luna was up to her shenanigans for a while; feeding the storm her strength so that it kept the two mates occupied. She watched with satisfaction as they scurried around to secure the cabin. The storm they battled was a walk in the park when compared with the mate bond. Whenever they accidentally brushed hands, when a guff of wind threw their scents at their face, the temptation of the bond grew. And soon, it would become irresistible. No book would be able to distract Wrath from the all-consuming desire.

To Artemis, he might look taken by in the interesting task of nailing, but both Wrath and Luna knew that ever since he noticed she was shivering from the cold, he imagined pulling her into his arms to shield her from the rain.

They retired indoors when they were sure the place wouldn’t fly away and resumed their earlier position. Only this time, neither of them felt agitation. Rather, a strange peace.


Sol glanced out of the tinted window, examining the shaky trees. Knowing better than to keep driving through the storm, he pulled over and removed the key from the engine.

“Well, Raiden. Looks like we’ll have to meet tomorrow,” he mused.

His trip had been long. It would now get delayed some more by the storm which he had to wait out. He came from far away to visit his old acquaintance and it had been decades since he last saw him. Chances are that Wrath probably moved away long ago. Since Raiden didn’t exactly have social media, it was extremely hard to keep track of him. Sol refreshed the tabs he had on him every twenty or thirty years.

The two of them had a... strange relationship. Since the two lycans had had similar fates, they had a special bond that they couldn’t share with anyone else.

Sol, also known as Pride, removed his seatbelt and moved to his backseat where he got comfortable and tried to get some sleep.

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