be aware of such, but the Fates most certainly would.
Had they intervened that day?
And why was I only questioning this now? Well, years of refusing to believe she was my Chosen One could answer that. Because up until the time I stole part of her life, I had once considered my blood as a gift, but ever since that day it had seemed like nothing more than a fucking curse!
Like falling in love with a girl I couldn’t protect. One that had died in my arms. No, I couldn’t allow that to happen again and would do anything I could to prevent it, even if that meant breaking her heart… one I had only just managed to fix.
No, I had done the right thing, as Dom would know what to do. Which was why I told my men that even if they had to tie her up and carry her back to him, then that was what they must do. As for me, I would only return to claim her once this was all over and I had eliminated the threat.
Once I had dealt with my… fuck… my wife.
The very word felt like acid across my tongue just thinking of it. Hell, but since hearing that damn name of hers, I had thought of little else. I had questioned excessively how it was all possible, and yet I knew there was only one being alive that would know. A single soul that would have any answers for me, which was just another reason added to the endless fucking list of why it was best Amelia was not here.
Because it meant going to the one place in my past I knew I couldn’t trust.
The place of my rebirth.
My father’s realm.
The Tortured City of Souls.
8
Betrayal and Fire
I shook the lingering sensation that felt as if my brain had been rattled in my skull after gaining my feet once more, getting sick of this being knocked down shit. Then, before I could think too much about my actions, I offered Trice my hand as he was still on his ass from the power of gaining back his soul. He looked at it in surprise, making me roll my eyes and snap,
“Just fucking take it, shifter, before I use it to knock you on your ass again for being an asshole.” At this he burst out laughing and clasped his hand to my forearm so I could pull him up. Then he shook his head and rubbed a hand across his chest as if the new feeling was settling inside of him. Yeah well, having your soul merged back into a vessel will do that to you, I thought wryly. Speaking of which, I looked back at my own brother, and knew it was time to get this next shit over with.
“I… I don’t ken whit tae say,” Trice stammered for words making me tense.
“Coming from you, the less the better I can imagine,” I responded dryly, making his brothers laugh as they joined us after getting their bearings once more.
“Ain’t that th’ truth,” Gryph commented
“It surely be, brother,” Vern said, making me look at him.
“That shit going to disappear soon or are you going to turn up on the battlefield sounding like a posh twat?” I asked, making Trice grin this time before he slapped a hand to Vern’s back and said,
“We wull be ready.”
“Aye, fur lucky his aim is still true even wi' his wee posh balls.” Vern rolled his eyes and flipped them both the middle finger.
“I heard if yer stick it up yer ass, that wull help in bringin' back yer accent,” Gryph replied, making me grin before I turned to walk away, stopping only when Trice asked,
“Wait!”
“I have little time, shifter,” I informed him after I paused long enough for him to speak.
“Why?”
“Does it matter?” I asked in return before looking back at him over my shoulder.
“Aye, it does tae me.”
I released a sigh and told him the truth,
“Because my Queen makes me want to be worthy of being her King.”
He nodded to this, understanding it due to his own feelings, and I swear had those feelings not been for my own girl then I might have felt sorry for the bastard. Perhaps matchmaking him with the shy little Fae girl wouldn’t have been such a bad thing after all.
I shook off these thoughts and started to focus on another, one that would aid me better in what I needed to do next.