My Stepbrother, My Mate
Shadows slithered through my veins, but through the torment, I felt it—a frayed, trembling thread—the bond, weakened but pulsing with defiance, a heartbeat of hope in the void.
A pulse. A heartbeat. His heartbeat.
I reached for it, my fingers trembling, the air around me turning frigid, a sinister chill creeping over my skin as if death itself awaited my touch.
The shadows fought back, a malevolent tide, freezing and unrelenting, dragging me deeper. Whispers, venomous and twisted, oozed through the void—a chorus of torment with Lyra’s voice, thick with possession and cruel delight:
“You are mine now, Henry. There is no escape.”
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