The stream is beautiful, and I peer up at the snow-capped mountain where the water flows from. If I follow the river downstream, I’ll run into one of Wrath’s rare freshwater lakes.
I curl my toes as Rexton patters around behind me.
“What, exactly, did Raum and Aziel tell you?” I ask. “Did they order you not to let me out of your sight?”
Rexton’s clothing rustles with every movement, so I know he’s close. I can smell him, too. Soldiers aren’t encouraged to hold back the power their bodies naturally emit during times of war, and Rexton has become a beacon. I suppose I have, too.
Maybe that’s why the soldiers have been so weird around me.
“I’ve not been given any direct orders,” Rexton says. “But it’s been implied.”
Yeah. I’m not the least bit surprised to hear that. The men in my life have never trusted me, not in the way I deserve. They seeme as a vulnerable, little thing who needs to be protected. They don’t see me as the powerful Wrath I am.
I’m strong, but never strong enough to be respected.
I doubt this would be my experience if I had a dick. In fact, I know it wouldn’t be. If I weren’t a woman, nobody would bat an eye at me joining a war camp. It would be expected of me, just as I assume it was expected of Aziel.
The coddling is exhausting.
I haven’t even been put in charge of Wrath’s military. Rexton has been given that honor, and Raum has me acting as a regular foot soldier.
The river water laps at my toes, and I inch forward until it’s at my ankles. I’d kill for a warm bath right about now, or even a warm shower. Anything warm. I refuse to use the communal showers in camp, and I don’t have the means to warm the water I use for my secret baths.
I tried hard to resist the temptation, but I failed. Soldiers aren’t allowed to leave camp, but I chose to sneak into Wrath’s capital and purchase a small, porcelain tub for my tent. It was a bitch to teleport back here, but it’s well worth it.
I attempted the communal showers once, and I didn’t even get my shirt off before a group of men interrupted me. I stalked the showers the day before and intentionally found a time when they were the least busy, so I know it wasn’t a coincidence. Those men were hoping to get an eyeful of my naked body.
I wouldn’t have minded showering with them if it were a genuine coincidence, but it wasn’t. I’m no fool, and it took every bit of mental resolve I had not to leave seven corpses in the showers that evening.
Somebody took care of the problem for me, though. I haven’t seen the men since the incident, and after a bit of investigating, it seems they’ve been sent on a mission they’re very unlikely to return alive from.
I’m not sure if the order came from Aziel, Raum, or Rexton, and I’m not going to ask. Those soldiers knew better, and their punishment is fitting. I hate it when the men in my life take it upon themselves to defend me, but I allow it in rare circumstances. This is one of them.
Rexton clears his throat. “I don’t agree with their decision.”
His admission makes me pause. He disagrees with what? Aziel and Raum’s unspoken orders to follow me around camp? Why? Does he think he’s too important for such tasks? Probably.
I’m inclined to believe that Rexton thinks the sun shines out of his asshole.
“Explain,” I order.
A quiet chuckle follows my demand, which I don’t appreciate. Rexton doesn’t deserve to laugh at me. He hasn’t earned the right. We might have fallen into a tentative truce after my comments about his childhood and my subsequent apology, but this doesn’t make us friends. We’re enemies with a shared cause.
We’ll resume our battle once Mammon’s overeager son and his army are gone.
“Well?” I urge. “You don’t agree with what?”
“I don’t agree with Aziel and Raum’s insistence on sheltering you,” Rexton admits. “Raum claims he’s treating you the same as the other soldiers, but that’s not true. You’re beyond powerful, and you’re a valuable asset to Wrath. If he were truly unbiased, he’d send you to the front lines.”
The front lines? I snort. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
I bet Rexton fantasizes about me being sent to the front lines. He dreams of the day I die, leaving Aziel with no heirs. David already rules over Lust, and Valeria can’t hold a position of power. The fates won’t allow it.
My death puts Rexton in the perfect position to lead Wrath.
“Again, Cassia, I’m not your enemy.” Rexton sounds exhausted. “I’m not out to get you, and I’m not secretly hoping for your downfall.”
I shrug. “Everybody else is, so I don’t see why you’d be any different.”
