Page 85 of Siren’s Secret

“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…”