Page 127 of Savage Fate

I didn’t need to hear the words. I felt the truth through the bond.

Fane loved me so much it hurt sometimes.

We’d started out as enemies lusting after each other, and somewhere along the road, our intense attraction transformed into something neither of us ever expected.

Or deserved.

After all the terrible things I’d done, I didn’t believe anyone could really love me.

Until Fane.

He pulled out and rested on his side, tucking me into him. The overwhelming craving that started after Reese stabbed me had melted into the background, muted by my attraction and addiction to Fane.

But it was there. And I still wanted the amulet.

“You’ve been fighting your whole life. You’re not just a survivor, Tate. You’re a warrior.” Fane gently pressed his forehead to mine, our bodies slick with sweat. “Don’t let Barric or this fucking stone make you believe anything else. You had tremendous power with the amulet, but you had very little control, if any. It won’t matter how strong it makes you because you won’t be Tate anymore.”

He was right. The Infernal Sol wanted me to surrender everything to it. I’d completely lose myself.

Part of me thought maybe I could control it instead of the other way around.

You can try to harness my true power as your own. I’ll give you a chance.

I ignored the voice and squeezed my eyes shut, burying my face in his chest. Exhaustion swept over me, and a sob slipped out.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice broken.

His arms wrapped around me like a safe, warm blanket. “Nothing to be sorry about. The dagger influenced you. Barric wanted to make you thirst for the amulet to lure you in.”

My hand rested over the symbol on my stomach. “Something is wrong. The amulet poisoned me, and this dagger made it worse.”

“Ruin knew more about the Infernal Sol than anyone else I know.” Fane’s muscles stiffened at the mention of the high demon lord.

“Yeah, well, he’s dead,” I said. “And unless you want to find him on the other side, wherever demons go when they die, we’re SOL.”

His mouth thinned as fury pulsated through the bond. “Denton and Estella are still alive.”

The two alchemists who had worked closely with Ruin were being held captive in the lab below Wrath & Ruin, a fitting punishment for what they did to those shifters.

How cooperative would they be, and could we even trust any information they gave us?

Denton helda silver talisman over the sun tattoo, mumbling under his breath as I stretched out on a cold metal table in the lab below Wrath & Ruin. The other one was destroyed the night Ruin died, and Wrath hadn’t fixed it.

I’d been subjected to pokes, prods, blood and tissue samples, and magic doodads for the past three hours. Was the alchemist simply stalling for more time out of his cell?

Unlike the shifters he and Ruin imprisoned, Denton looked well-fed and taken care of.

“What about adding a Velamen sigil?” Estella opened a metal cabinet and withdrew a small vial of purple liquid and a delicate paintbrush.

Denton nodded. “That could work.”

The dux demon pulled out the cork and dipped the brush inside the vial. “This will be cold.” Goose bumps erupted across my flesh as she drew shapes on my abs below the sun tattoo.

While Denton looked relatively fine, Estella appeared weak with dark circles beneath her haunted eyes. Her emerald hair was dull and lifeless, pinned back in a low bun instead of an intricate braid. A sickly hue coated her pale complexion.

Her worn appearance probably had more to do with mourning the loss of Ruin than her captivity. She was madly in love with him, and even though he’d had no idea, his death had clearly devastated her.

Fane brushed his fingers over my arm as he glared at the alchemists. “If you do anything to hurt her, I’ll tear both your heads off.”

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