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My body jostles as I open my eyes, realizing we're already through the portal and on the other side of it.
Crimson walls with black glittering whirls line the hallway, giant golden candlesticks floating beside them and flickering between fire and light with each step Legend takes, only the first five feet ahead visible at a time.
The ceiling isn’t a ceiling at all, but a gateway into oblivion. No stars shine above, no galaxy is within reach, just the air of darkness.
“Where are we?” I wonder.
It’s quiet. Too quiet. There are no guards to be seen, not a single servant or staff member crossing the halls as we move past them.
A sick feeling stirs low in my stomach, my pulse pumping harder by the second.
With each step taken, it only gets worse...
* * *
Knight
Like earlier, there’s a knock in my chest. Right in the fucking center. Pressure presses against my ribcage, but it’s different than the sensation I got at the end of the fight.
It’s stronger.
Deeper.
And it’s fucking tugging at me. I have to look down to make sure my flesh isn't ripping from my fucking bones. My throat begins to strain, and I throw my head up from the pile of fucking info spread out around the circular table.
Creed glances my way and Sinner glares from behind his laptop screen.
“What is it?” Creed sits back in his chair cautiously.
I look over at the couch, empty, the files Legend was going through abandoned there.
I shoot to my feet. “Where’s Legend?”
My brothers swing around, and they’re on their feet as quick as me.
“I didn’t even hear him leave.” Sinner spins to look at me. “Knight... no.”
I swallow. Fuck.
That’s not what this is, is it?
I felt some shit and then learned my father was murdered. Fucking dismembered.
Not my brother too. For our dad, we’d search the fucking worlds for his murderer.
For our brother?
We’ll burn them all to the fucking ground.
But this... my pulse thumps harder until it’s ringing in my ears.
My feet move without permission, my brothers on my tail. Just before I can throw the doors leading to the hall open, a gust of wind comes from the other side, bursting the doors open, rattling them on their hinges.
My blood runs cold then boils, the sight maddening and abating at the same fucking time.
London.
Covered in blood and grime and pressed against my brother’s chest.
