Fated Vengeance: A Mate's Reckoning
My wounds throbbed—leg, arm, side, chest—but the mark’s pain was worse, a cold fire spreading, her presence sinking deeper, whispering *give in, be whole*.
I stepped forward, the dagger raised, its light cutting through the chamber’s glow, but the air resisted, thick, like wading through water. The core pulsed faster, syncing with the mark, and the visions sharpened—me, young, bound in a ritual, blood pooling, the Veil sealing; her, rising from that same blood, a shadow born of my spark. I shook my head, the bond flickering, Lucian’s heartbeat a distant drum, grounding me. “You’re not me,” I said, my voice raw, echoing off the walls.
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