Page 76

The burning temple.

The little girl whose screams followed me through three thousand years of darkness.

I remember every mortal who suffered because powerful men believed themselves untouchable.

I am the God of Wrath.

I was created to punish such men.

And tonight, I intend to fulfill my purpose.

“Vidar.”

Wren’s voice reaches me from somewhere far away.

I barely hear it.

Grant’s pulse hammers beneath my fingers.

One movement.

One final squeeze.

And he will never hurt her again.

“Vidar, please.”

I look toward her.

She stands beside the broken window, one hand pressed against her shoulder.

Blood stains her sleeve.

My fury surges.

“He hurt you.”

“I know.”

“He will do it again.”

Her eyes shine, but she doesn’t retreat.

“Then let me stop him.”

I stare at her.

The words make no sense.

This man is dangerous.

Cruel.

Unworthy of mercy.

“He deserves punishment,” I growl.

“Then let him face it.”