Page 37 of Masked Fate

If she’s a threat to this kingdom in any way…

My parents are dead now, but when my mother was alive, she’d say, ‘Always check the roots of your plants.’

A pang of guilt hits me because I know deep inside that Pandora isn’t like her mother or sister. Herrootsare not the same as theirs, yet she still came from them. I might not hate her like I did, but I don’t fully trust her. And with my history with her family, I think it’s not unreasonable for me to feel this way.

“It’s nothing,” she replies, moving to stand up and leave. My hand reaches out to encircle her wrist, stopping her.

“Take it off,” I demand, keeping my eyes locked on hers. I don’t know why I’m telling her to do this, only that I need to.

“No,” she replies, her violet eyes narrowing to angry slits. “You don’t get to tell me what to do, Soren! Who do you think you are?”

I didn’t want to do this, but I repeat my command, and this time, I put my persuasion into it. I know my eyes are probably changing color right now, the dominance and magic flowing through my voice forcing her to do as she is damn well told.

She tries to fight it.

Her hands are shaking, trying to stop herself from reachingup and undoing the dainty clasp behind her pretty nape. Her cheeks are flushed, and her eyes are shooting daggers at me, sparkling with fury…

… and fear?

What could she be scared of?

The necklace falls to the grass, and she gasps, wrapping her arms around herself tightly, her eyes slamming shut.

And then it hits me.

The connection between us snaps together.

That tug.

That draw of energy, power, and pure want and need.

Our magic pulses in the air, longing to join, to be one.

Her violet eyes open, staring right at me. She looks so fucking unsure and scared. I want nothing more than to pull her into my arms and protect her.

But there’s no protecting either of us from the truth.

My eyes widen in horror as pure pain mixed with longing takes over my existence.

No, no, no.

My head shakes as I try to process what my eyes and soul are telling me.

How can this be?

My chest hurts, and it feels like the air has been cut off from my lungs.

The daughter of the witch who tortured me, the witch who I have been nothing but a fucking asshole to all this time, is my fated mate.

And she hid it from me.

How long has she known?

Why didn’t she tell me?

Does she not want me?

I need fucking answers.

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