Twisted Fates (Twisted Souls Duology #2)
Chapter 1
Zara
Fuck.
My knees slammed onto gravel, my heart rate spiking as we appeared in Velra, in front of the large limestone castle we called home.
I had gotten us back, but I was weak, way too weak to have shadowed all of us in my condition. My skin crawled with an unbearable itch, and a molten heat surged through my veins, burning like acid. But the plan had worked. I was mated. The door between our worlds opened.
My stomach soured, and bile rose in the back of my throat. Morgana stood in front of me, sneering as her hand clamped onto my chin.
“We will have words later.”
She pulled a vial from her cloak and unstoppered it with her thumb. My eyes were blurry, and her nails bit into my flesh as she wrenched my mouth open. The thick liquid she poured down my throat made me gag, its contents threatening to come back up.
Morgana’s will crashed over me, forcing me to swallow, and her command rang through my blood–my soul. I might have my memories back—or would once I healed—but half my soul remained twisted and bound to hers.
Morgana had been forced to relinquish the other half back to me in order for her plan to work. I had needed it for the mate bond to form with her son—still needed it to keep the connection.
He couldn’t kill her now. Not with my soul bound to hers.
My memories had been stripped, rewritten into something unremarkable: a human princess, unaware of magic, corruption, or the war unfolding around her.
With that identity, I could move freely between Velra and Nexia, unnoticed, unsuspected—trusted.
While Morgana, with the help of Lana, orchestrated everything from the shadows.
Not only had she gained access to their kingdom, but she made it so that the one person who might have been able to defeat her couldn’t. And I was yet again going to be another tool, a weapon she planned to use against him.
Lana had been right. Xavier and I were fated to be a tragedy.
When the last drop touched my tongue, Morgana shoved me away from her, my body slumping to the ground in a weighted heap. Sharp rocks dug into my skin, my cheek, yet all I registered was the searing heat coursing through my veins.
A black glittering crown fell to the ground in front of me, and my brows pinched at the sight of it. Had that been on my head?
The potion she'd given me had already made my mind feel foggy, and weighed down. Images streaked across my vision, merging with the present, and I groaned as the pressure in my skull increased.
Morgana leaned down, her short dark hair falling over her face.
She picked up the crown, clutching it tightly in her grasp, and I watched as she dusted it off with her other hand.
A smirk formed on her lips but before I could try to speak, Morgana swung around, her purple-lined cloak flaring around her as she strode toward the castle, leaving me in the dirt.
I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.
My vision blurred further, and that boiling itch in my veins lessened to a dull ache. That, or maybe my body was just going numb from the pain.
More memories flooded my mind, and I had to close my eyes as they played in rapid succession, blurring with old and unfamiliar ones. Images flashed one after another, causing me to wince and whimper as the pressure in my skull became nearly unbearable.
Strong arms lifted me, and the scent of metal and blood filled my lungs.
Atticus.
I pried an eye open and found him looking down at me, his cold, metallic gaze locking with mine. For a fleeting moment, he almost seemed concerned, as if he cared...but I knew better. Atticus only cared about himself. He used me, just like everyone else. And the lonely, sad parts of me let him.
My left arm twitched, and I closed my eyes again, pressing myself into the hard planes of his chest. Atticus's boots crunched on the gravel beneath us, and I clung to the sound, desperately trying to gather my thoughts.
It felt like a losing battle, the immense weight in my mind relentless, dragging me down further and further until I was lost in my memories.