Page 23 of Fate of a Faux


Font Size:  

Brave enough???

I don’t have time to think about that as Victoria has my face in her palms a second later and her red eyes begin to swirl with silver. “I’m going to take off your magic restraints and you are going to behave like a good little Gifted. You will not speak. You will not run. Most importantly, if you attempt to use magic, you will fry from the inside out.”?

A small frown begins to build along my brows and really, I want to fucking laugh, but then she blinks, a proud smile pulling at her lips, and I realize...she’s serious.??

She expects me to listen. Curiosity tugs at my mind, so I decide to give her what she wants, nodding like a good Gifted.??

Her hands hover over my wrists and the red laser-like lights that coil around them, creating what looks like an infinity loop, turn blue. From blue it fades to black, and then all that’s left of them is a fading cloud of smoke.??

I rub at my left wrist, hissing at the burns the restraints left behind but it’s nothing compared to the pain in my palm.??

Finally, she pushes the door open, but all I can see on the other side is darkness.??

Pulling in a long breath, I take a step forward, but then something kicks in my chest.??

It thumps and stirs and swirls, and I know.??

My mate is on the other side of that door...and he’spissed.??

Good. That makes fucking two of us.??

* * *

Knight??

Once again, I know the second she’s near, but this time it’s not the bond that has my entire being tingling. It’s the smell of her blood.

My head snaps in her direction the exact moment hers does mine; it’s like a knee-jerk reaction we can’t fucking control.

Her spine goes stiff, and her hands are folded behind her body.

Instantly my eyes trace every inch of her, searching for the break in her skin that’s sending her scent straight into my lungs and all the way down to my fucking cock, but I can’t find it, the hoodie and jeans hiding nearly every inch of her tiny frame.

It only takes her a split second to realize I’m not the only one out here and slowly, she faces forward.

Her eyes fly wide as she looks out at the people below and she takes a small step back. The second her foot moves, Victoria, one of the Ministry’s pets, shoves her forward. It takes all the effort I can muster to keep my feet in place.

The muscles in my legs tense and pull, but I stretch through the ache, denying the part of myself determined to get to her, and focus on my mother ahead instead.

She levitates over the edge of the edgeless balcony overlooking the bridge that separates our realm; her red gown blowing in the midnight wind making her look like a true nightmare.??

Her last message was a grave one and she is out here looking the part of the wicked widow, but it’s nothing different from the norm, aside from the fury in her eyes.

The Elders advised against our conclave tonight; said it was dangerous considering my father's murderer was still walking our streets, and that’s just one more instance of proof the Ministry makes us weak.

Forget him being our father for a minute.

Our King was fucking murdered. The King.

The man born for the sole purpose of his role and duty. Who spent a lifetime serving and speaking for our kind. For the Stygians and the fucking Argents, if they came asking for a bit of help painting a grey matter black.

This is when our people, the true and worthy Gifted, come together most.

We're pissed, hungry for retribution. For answers but it’s more than that.

It’s the matter of fate.

Fate is what we’re made of. Fate of a Royal, or was it Fate of a Faux?

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
Articles you may like