Twisted Fate: A Fated Crossing Novel (Fated Crossing Series Book 2) by Michelle Rose

Author:Michelle Rose [Rose, Michelle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: AuthorMichelleRose
Published: 2023-06-08T16:00:00+00:00

I jolt awake to a fist pounding on the wooden door. My attention shifts to Grace, but she is still asleep. She hasn’t stirred from where I laid her last night, facing the ceiling. Her coloring is better, her cheeks pinker and less hollow.

Outside, the sky is painted in the pale pinks and oranges of sunrise.

Swinging my still-booted feet off the bed, I rest a hand on my dagger’s pommel and crack the door.

The human owner stands outside, eyes glued to the floor. “I believe the group you were waiting for arrived. I gave them the room at the end of the hall. Second door on the right.”

“I appreciate you letting me know.”

She looks up only once, offering a timid smile before scurrying down the hall.

I cast a quick glance over my shoulder. I hate leaving Grace alone.

“I am going to check on the others. I’ll be right back.” The words flow through the bond, but she doesn’t respond.

That will have to do for now.

The door creaks shut behind me as I step into the hallway.

I knock on their door, and Delphina answers. She silently moves aside, her chin and shoulders slumped. As soon as I step inside, the overwhelming copper scent hits me. My brothers are spread around the room, splattered in blood. Mikal sits on the floor, head dangling between his bent knees. Corren slumps on the foot of the bed, elbows pressed into his thighs, head cradled in his palms. Liam is on the other bed, leaning back against the headboard.

One is missing.

“Where’s Thom?” I ask. No one makes eye contact. No one answers. “Where is Thom?”

Mikal lifts his head. There are tear-streaked lines in the grime on his cheeks. “He’s dead.”

“What?” I must have misheard him. I must have.

Fresh tears well in Mikal’s red-rimmed eyes. “He’s gone, Isiah. Thom is gone.” A sob shakes his entire body. Delphina slides down the wall and scoots beside him, leaning her head on his shoulder.

My knees quiver as I stagger toward the bed and sit next to Corren.

“How?” The single word snags hold of something in my chest and rips, taking a piece of me with it on the exhale.

The creak of the door hinges drags me from myself. When I look up, Grace stands in the threshold, bloody and pale, but awake. I want to smile, but the muscles don’t seem to remember how to. She glances around the room, taking in our solemn faces, before entering and sitting on the floor, her back against the wall opposite me.

“How?” I repeat, steadier this time.

Mikal clears his throat. “We had no trouble getting into the vault, but that should have been the first red flag.” His eyelids squeeze shut, as if he can’t bear to face the truth. “The stone was right where Grace said it would be. We had it”—Mikal’s eyes snap open—“but it was a trap. Two dozen guards flooded the vault. We cut them down, but they kept coming. Liam and Corren were clearing the stairs for our retreat, but the remaining guards at the bottom followed.

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