The Legend of Wrath

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Chapter 51

Raiden took a sip from his beer. His eyes were falsely focused on the energetic man blabbering in front of him. The rest of the men around him seemed to be having a good time.

Raiden supposed he was having fun too. It was nice to get a break from work and spending hours inside Artemis since they hadn't stopped fucking since they mated five nights ago.
Okay, that last part was a lie.

He smiled and skimmed a hand over the mark he proudly bore on his neck.

Speaking of pride, Sol lazily threw his arm over his shoulder and squeezed. “Are you having fun?” he yelled over the music that seemed determined to prevent conversation.

With a roll of his eyes, he shrugged Sol’s arm off. The four patrol guards sitting beside them watched closely, star-struck by their interaction. They were some of the many other pack members that were amazed by lycans.

“Yeah I am,” Raiden nodded.

“So Raiden, what did you do during those first few years of the curse?”

The question came from Emmanuel, the youngest man in the group. He had an innocence to him that got countered by his deadly curiosity.

Raiden was surprised that the question didn’t ruffle him up. It looked like spending time with Artemis and in therapy was finally paying off.

“Well,” he began. All of the men except Sol leaned in. “I didn’t feel or look any different so I just forgot about Luna for a long time. A few decades later, I realized that I wasn’t aging. And then, the shifting started. Every year, I would forcefully shift for 30 days.”

The men’s eyes widened with childish amazement. They were clearly romanticizing the idea of crossing paths with a Goddess. Little did they know that meeting Luna tended to leave you wishing you never met life itself.

“Did you really see Luna? What did she look like?” Emmanuel rambled excitedly.

The question sprayed bleach on the mood, instantly killing it. Raiden’s eyes dropped to the table. “I hope you never find out...”

Sol tsked. “Don’t get all depressing, Wrath. You always do this shit.”

“Wrath?” Earl, the only married man in the group perked. “Do you mind if I call you that?”

Raiden shrugged. He had no care for what people called him. The insults or labels didn’t change who he had become.

Sol answered for him. “You shouldn't. Artemis doesn’t like that name.”

“That’s true,” Raiden agreed, remembering how upset she got when Lukas called him by his lycan title. Sol was the only person allowed to call him Wrath.

“You’re so whipped,” Sol chuckled.

Raiden's shoulders rose and fell without care.

“But don’t worry. You’re still one of the guys,” Sol raised his beer in Raiden’s honor.

The rest of the men raised their drinks as well and chanted, “one of the guys!”

Raiden smiled at his newfound friends.


"I love you so much. You're my everything."

Raiden cringed with disgust.

Sol gripped onto his shoulder so desperately that it was a wonder how it hadn't dislocated. He tried to put one foot in front of the other but it was hard to tell which of the four legs he was seeing was real.

"You're so boring," Sol slurred. "But you're my only... true buddy, friend, amigo."

Raiden contemplated dropping Sol's drunk ass beneath a tree and going home. Or maybe let him drink some more so he died from alcohol poisoning.

The incapacitated lycan continued his love confession. "You understand me, man."
"Shut the fuck up," Raiden grumbled with annoyance as he tried to support his weight.

"No. I hate silence..." The two-hundred-pound man whined like a child. "I don't like being alone either. Want to know why?"

Raiden was quick to answer with "no."

But as usual, Sol defied him.

"Because Alpha Sol used to like being alone. He was cruel, hateful, serious."

Raiden's stomach burned. The unsettling feeling had nothing to do with the few beers in his system, but rather discomfort for the turn that their conversation took.

"I don't want to be Alpha Sol anymore," Sol paused to hiccup. "I don't want to resemble him," he hiccupped again.

Raiden didn't reply. It's not like anything he said would fix the emotional mess that Sol had become. That was a job for the Moon Goddess.

"What in the seven sins are you doing?" Raiden demanded.

"I want to— to give you a hug. C'mere," Sol stammered and tried to press their chests together.

Raiden jumped away from the sappy nonsense and Sol subsequently dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes.

One long drive later, he was home. He didn't feel like waking Sol up and dealing with his delusions, so he left him snoring in the backseat.

Once he entered the house, he immediately picked up on the fact that it was empty. Artemis' scent was faded.

With a frown, he turned to his cellphone in search of answers. A text that was a few hours old was waiting for him.

I'll be hanging out with my parents tonight. Love you.

Raiden never thought he could hate an inanimate object as much as he hated his cellphone right now.

Bummed out by her absence, he walked into the bathroom and peeled his shirt off, intending on washing Sol's puke off.

His scowl consumed more of his face.
I should've let the bastard overdose.
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