Page 84 of Fate of a Faux


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I drag my hands through my hair, tugging and tearing and spinning. My glassy eyes meet my brother’s. “Creed.”

His face falls, eyes dropping to his feet.

“Creed, no. It has to be something else!” I shout, but I know my words are pointless.

Because I know.

I know because that part of her, the tether that linked me to my mate, my fucking girl to me, it’s torn. Severed at the very base.

The bond I fought against, the calm I craved, the fucking home she created within me, the purpose she gave me without even fucking knowing it... all gone.

“I can’t fucking feel her.”

“What do you mean?” Legend pushes forward. “What do you mean, Knight!”

Sinner steps up, shoulders tight, expression tense as he works his way into my mind. “She’s … gone.”

Gone.

The bond is gone.

My soul is torn.

My heart empty.

Mother comes around the corner then, eyes wide with panic when she spots me on the floor.

But then something strange happens. She freezes, takes me in from head to toe, her expression smoothing out as she comes to the conclusion all on her own. “So, she’s finally dead.”

It's not a question. It's a stated fact, one that rattles my bones and leaves me powerless. Literally.

I feel no energy coursing through me. No spark or being beneath my skin.

London. My beautiful, dark little doll… is dead.

And it’s all my fucking fault.

No sooner does the thought weave its way through me when an explosion sounds.

A fire starts at the end of the hall, the doors flying off in hundreds of small shards.

My brothers jump to their feet, power surging from their fingertips and then the room behind me is washed away by a fucking tsunami.

The water whirls this way, the fire growing and billowing from the other side, and then the skies open up.

Thunder and lightning rain down above us, zapping at my skin and jolting me.

I feel none of it.

My brothers yell.

Our mother shouts.

I close my eyes, begging the fucking monster who created me to take me in his arms and keep me there until I’m nothing but ash at his feet.

Twenty-Three

London

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