Page 91 of Fate of a Faux


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Twenty-Five

London

I’ve been lyingin a hammock Haide hung for me at the farthest edge of the forest for I don’t know how long, trying to make sense of some of the things going on in my head, and as painful and confusing as it is... I think I figured some of it out.

The night Knight came into that room at the sanctuary, he didn’t only erase the pain and my knowledge of the bond between us, he accepted it.

My angry, broken mate accepted me. Hebondedwith me.

My bond is alive, his claiming complete.

The black veins along my body and the very blood that courses through me is infused with his.

My Ethos is awakened.

It’s a part of himself he didn't have to give me, but did, even if he couldn’t have his own unlocked.

He gave me all of him, and then he let me go as best he could, knowing that meant he would never ascend to his higher self. Never become the King he was meant to be. He did that for me, the girl he swore he hated. That wasn’t good enough or strong enough.

The girl he said he didn’t want.

He lied. To me and himself.

Knight freed me from the prison I accused the fates of locking me in, closing himself on the side of the bars he released me from.

I can see him in my head, hear him in my thoughts now that the barrier is broken in my mind, but I don’t understand the empty numbness I’m feeling from him right now. Why is he in pain? Why does he mourn the loss of me?

He chose to let me go.

That’s what the courtship was about. He couldn’t take me as his Queen, and he knew it, so he was prepared to take another.

He probably did the minute I was no longer in his face, reminding him of what he wanted and couldn’t have.

The thoughts mixed with the raw ache, that isn’t my own, are too much, so I use my newfound shield to block it out, but then the moment he’s cleared of my consciousness, the pain intensifies. It grows so strong I roll, flipping to the ground with a hard thud.

I pant, digging my hands in the dirt as the stabbing sensation shoots through me and I throw my head back with a scream.

A scream that cuts off when the bushes behind me rustle in warning.Spinning, I freeze.

Six Gifted inch toward me, their teeth sharp and eyes wild.They would look human, if only not for the monstrous features of their faces.

They're vamps.

The blood in my veins runs faster, pulsing harder at my throat and I swear it’s as if my gift is taunting them. Daring them to come closer, but that bitch needs to chill.

I can’t take six vamps at once.

I'm not even sure I can take one!

They all circle around me in full form. My link to Knight’s mind tells me they aren’t just vamps, they’re the kind that are birthed from demons, cured over time to become exactly that—evil. No redemption lays in the pits of their eyes, just torment. Greed. Malice.

“Well, well...” one of them croaks, and it leans down slowly, reaching out to touch me with its long, colorless fingernail. “What did the dragon drag in...”

I whack its hand away, glaring up at the ugly creature. “Something that’s not for you.”

It chuckles, leaning back while holding its belly. The rest of its little clan follow with their hyena-like laughs. The trees bend with the wind, as the gray sky peers down at me from above. Bleak. Colorless and toxic. This island is a photograph trapped in sepia, blind to the naked eye.

Before I can answer, something sharp sinks into my neck and I freeze, my muscles paralyzed. I reach up slowly, my hand coming to a head of thick, unwashed black hair. Grease slides over my fingers as I slowly squeeze a pile of it in my hand and pull back with a loud scream, her teeth still connected to my vein.

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