All Chapters of Fated Vengeance: A Mate's Reckoning : Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

The Hollows glowed under the elders’ fires, their ancient faces carved with shock as we stumbled from the cavern’s mouth, battered and bleeding. My heart pounded, the bond with Lucian a frantic pulse—alive, urgent, but fraying under the weight of what we’d seen. The mirror’s reflection burned in my mind—my face, twisted, marked, hers. The man’s words—the breaking begins with you—clawed at me, a truth I couldn’t unhear. I gripped my blade, its weight the only thing keeping me from unraveling.Lucian’s hand stayed on my arm, his silver eyes searching mine, blood dripping from a fresh cut on his cheek. “You’re okay,” he said, more command than question, but his voice shook, betraying him.“Am I?” I whispered, my voice raw, the bond spiking with my fear. That reflection wasn’t just a trick—it felt real, like a piece of me I didn’t know existed.Killian staggered up, staff in hand, his face pale. “What the hell was that? A cult? Magic? And that mirror—” He cut off, glancing at me, like he

The mark on my chest burned like a brand, a pulsing reminder of her—of me—as we pushed toward the Rift. The mountains loomed sharper now, their peaks stabbing the bruised sky, clouds churning with a storm that hadn’t broken but felt alive, watching. My wounds screamed—leg, arm, side—but I forced each step, the bond with Lucian a lifeline, his presence a fire against the cold dread creeping through me. The dagger hung heavy at my hip, its hum a faint echo of her whisper, still clawing at the edges of my mind.Lucian led the way, his blade drawn, his silver eyes scanning the narrowing pass. Killian flanked me, staff ready, his usual quips silenced by the weight of what we’d seen—the Keeper, the chasm, my shadow self reaching through me. Mara trailed behind, her knife glinting, her breaths sharp but steady despite her injuries. The air was thin, biting, and every gust carried a faint hum, like the mountain itself was singing her song.“We’re close,” Lucian said, his voice low, barely cut

Rain lashed the mountainside, turning the rocky path to slick mud as we stumbled away from the Rift. Lightning split the sky, illuminating the jagged peaks, and the wind howled, carrying her whisper—it’s just begun. My chest burned where the mark pulsed, a constant reminder of the shadow within me, the Veil’s lock I’d never asked to carry. The dagger, wrapped tightly at my hip, hummed faintly, its weight both anchor and threat. The bond with Lucian thrummed—his strength, my resolve, our shared defiance—but it couldn’t drown out the truth clawing at me: It wasn’t just pack. I was something else, something ancient, and it terrified me.Lucian led, his blade sheathed but his hand never far from it, his silver eyes scanning the storm for threats. Blood crusted his arm, his wounds barely tended, but he moved like nothing could stop him. I matched his pace, my leg aching, the stitches pulling with every step. Killian trudged beside me, his staff sinking into the mud, his face grim, no trace

The valley was silent now, the stones dark, their runes extinguished, but the air still felt charged, like the Veil itself was holding its breath. The mark on my chest pulsed faintly, a lingering echo of her—my shadow, my twin—retreated but not gone. The dagger hung at my hip, its hum subdued but alive, a reminder of the power we’d barely contained. The bond with Lucian thrummed—his steady heartbeat, my restless resolve, our shared need to keep moving. We’d stopped her here, but the glimpses of that city beyond the Veil—its glowing spires, its watching figures—clawed at my mind, demanding answers.Lucian stood beside me, his blade sheathed, blood crusted on his arm, his silver eyes scanning the valley for threats. “We can’t stay,” he said, his voice low, rough from the fight. “The pack needs us, but that city—”“It’s where she’s hiding,” I finished, my voice steady despite the churn in my gut. “And where I came from.”The words felt like a confession, raw and heavy. The flashes I’d se

The tower’s core pulsed like a dying star, its crystal heart casting jagged beams of light across the chamber, each one splintering into visions—her face, my face, the city, the Veil, worlds colliding. The mark on my chest burned, a searing tether to her, my shadow, my twin, whose presence filled the air, not as a body but as a force—her laugh in the walls, her eyes in the crystal, her voice a song that clawed at my soul. The dagger in my hand hummed, its symbols blazing, but its light felt fragile against the core’s radiance, like a candle in a storm. The bond with Lucian was a faint thread, stretched across worlds, his voice—*Angel, fight!*—a whisper I clung to, the only thing keeping me from drowning in her.The chamber was vast, its walls not stone but liquid crystal, flowing, shifting, etched with runes that moved like living things. The floor was glass, reflecting not me but her, her black eyes staring up, her smile taunting. The doors had sealed behind me, trapping me in this h