Wanted (The Un Series Book 2) by Izzy Sweet & Sean Moriarty

Author:Izzy Sweet & Sean Moriarty [Sweet, Izzy & Moriarty, Sean]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2025-02-20T00:00:00+00:00

TEN

ALENA

He can’t be real, my mind screams in horror.

The icy fingers dig harder into my arms, nearly touching bone, but the Prophet’s eerie voice is strangely sympathetic as he says, “Oh, I’m very real, my child. And your immortal soul is in grave danger.”

My entire being jerks in shock at the knowledge that the Prophet just read my thoughts, like Raphael.

Has he always been able to do so? Has he always known what’s been truly in my heart?

“Release her!” Raphael roars in fury, his voice sounding faraway.

I shake my head and blink my eyes until my vision returns. The first thing I see is black fabric. The same plain black fabric the Prophet wore the last time I saw him.

Unwilling to look up, to literally face my biggest fear, I twist my neck instead and glance behind to see Raphael several meters in the distance.

The strange thing, however, is that every time I blink my eyes he seems farther away.

Like we’re moving somehow…

But the landscape never changes. There’s no stretching between us my naked eyes can see.

Raphael appears to be running, but he’s only moving backwards.

And it sends more chills down my spine.

As fast as I’ve seen vampires move over the last few hours, he should easily reach us.

Raphael roars again, but this time it’s in desperation. “Alena! Run!”

My legs and feet suddenly tingle with the desire to comply, but I’m trapped in the Prophet’s frosty clutches.

“Now there will be no more of that,” the Prophet growls in irritation. “You don’t belong here! This is my domain!”

As if a great gust of wind knocked into him, Raphael is swept off his feet and sent flying backwards. He’s sent so fast and so far, he becomes merely a black dot in the distant horizon before blinking out of existence.

Turning my attention back to the Prophet, I throw my head back and stare up at the darkness where his face should be inside his hood.

Paralyzed by fear and shock, all I can do is stare.

Stare and hope somehow I wake up.

But what if I’m not dreaming?

What if somehow, someway, this is reality and everything else has been a dream?

“Again, fear not, my child,” the Prophet says. “You are safe here with me.”

But where is here? I want to scream.

Unfortunately, my lips and throat refuse to do my bidding.

My mind is cracking…

Shattering.

Breaking.

A person can only take so much. Especially when their entire perception of existence is thrown into chaos.

And to make it even worse, I feel the ground beneath my feet changing. Shifting from mud to something solid and hard.

The icy grip on my arms relaxes, becoming not as tight and painful, but remains firm and unyielding.

I continue to stare into the Prophet’s hood, mind shredding to pieces, until a voice finally breaks the silence.

“You found her, Your Holiness,” Jeffrey chokes out in disbelief.

My head whips toward him on its own volition. My eyes needing to confirm he is truly here, too.

Here, in that awful room in Boston, standing beside the Prophet’s throne…

“Yes, Jeffrey, I’ve found her,” the Prophet responds with a harsh bite.

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