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We wait.
A head rolls in first, and then the soft thump of boots carries down the hall.
My heart fucking jumps when London strolls through, bloody dagger hanging in one hand, and dragging a body with the other.
She drops the leg of the guard and he instantly kicks at her.
His eyes turn white, and I open my mouth to warn her, but before the color reaches his pupils a dagger flies through the air from down the dark hall, slicing right into his throat.
“Thanks,” she calls over her shoulder and a female voice answers,“They in there?!”
Legend yanks in his chains, a deep rumble stirring in his chest.
Creed and Sinner go on high alert.
But I can only stare at the girl before me. Her eyes find mine and hold and it’s just like in my nightmare—she's exactly how I saw her.
Frosty hair and big black eyes, veins threaded down across her like ashen tattoos to the skin.
She’s fucking beautiful, but she’s no beauty.
My girl, mymate... she’s the worst of them all.
“My little demon.”
Her eyes flare at my rasped words and the bond sparks in my chest.
“I should end you myself.” She creeps closer, and she doesn’t stop until she’s right in front of me.
My eyes trace every inch of her face, and my cold skin warms. “But...”
“But a Queen could never kill her King.” Her tone is soft yet strong.
I tug at the chains, needing to wrap my arms around her, but all it does is send a shock through my system.
London’s limbs shake with anger at the sound, her eyes flying up to the powerful restraints.
She reaches for them, but I yank back.
“No!” I frown, too weak to move when she simply advances again. “It’s cursed.”
London smirks, taking the Hellhound rope in her fists. “So am I.”
Her head snaps back, mouth opening, and my brothers and I gape as thick, grey fog pours from her mouth.
“Demonic smoke,” Creed breathes, awestruck. “It lives inside her.”
“How?”
He shakes his head, and we stare at the fucking magnificent little creature before us. My creature.
My fucking future.
The veins in her forearms pound against her skin, the long scars from where she sliced herself open glittering.
The fog spreads the length of the room, taking my brothers and I in its arms. The red ropes turn blue, and then black and then fade to ash as we’re lowered to the floor. Too weak to stand, we slump there, stretching our limbs and listening to the war just outside these walls.
London didn’t come alone.
