Fated Vengeance: A Mate's Reckoning
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 cutting through the wind. “The shrine’s just beyond the crest.”
Bab Populer