Replaced by His First Love
I birthed a King to give them freedom, and they’re using that freedom to build a ladder to his throat.
"Mommy... Uncle Marek looks empty again," Leo whispered. His stuffy voice was small, but it carried the subsonic weight of a King watching his kingdom turn into a graveyard. He reached for my hand, his small fingers scorch-hot against my cold gold skin. "He’s crying inside. I can feel it."
"I know, baby," I rasped, my voice a ruined vibration. "But the ghosts don't care about his tears."
The silver chain at my hip suddenly detonated. Kael’s ghost-voice erupted from every speaker in the hall—no longer a digital rattle, but a visceral, digitized roar.