Page 46 of Stormbinder King
Something that would enable me to stab Symeon in his sleep?
Maybe I should just go.
Then my eyes were caught by a few of the drawings.
Wait, was that supposed to be the King?
The drawing looked strikingly familiar to him--with his massive size, the harsh lined face, dark raven’s wing hair, heavy-lidded eyes. And the illustration had captured the uncaring and cruelty in his eyes.
It almost looked like the drawings were meant to be prophecies. One image showed Symeon on his throne accepting a crown.
But many other images had been pulverized beyond recognition.
There were lines of writing carved into the wall, so deep that even the destruction of the chapel hadn’t totally erased them.
They weren’t all readable, but the first lines said:
The Alpha King’s Fated Mate
She will cross galaxies to find me
Our love will span worlds
By her signs will I know her
So apparently Symeon had a fated mate, like his brother did.
But why destroy this evidence of her? And then try to bury it?
It looked like he’d taken apickaxeto some of these scenes.
Wait, no, those were hisclaws.
I shivered at the evidence of his power, the destructive violence of his fury.
I moved the light closer, curious if I could see any evidence of what had sent him on such a psychopathic rampage.
There were literally chunks of the wall on the ground, some of them smelling unsettlingly like old blood and despair.
Carefully, I picked up a few chunks of the rubble on the ground, marveling at the strength it took to tear literal stone apart.
Then I turned over a glistening piece of rock and saw something that made me choke.
It wasme.
Long, thick blue-black hair, light blue eyes, the light spray of freckles across my nose in the distinctive shape of a constellation.
What the hell
Stunned, I looked up at the wall, the deep gouges clawed there.
The Fated Mate
The one whose love was supposed to span worlds
Wasme.
I couldn’t move.
