How many times must I watch her die?
I
knew the answer. As long as I had to sleep, I would see my mother torn
apart, first by creatures still unknown, now by my chosen brother. It
would not matter that this horrid thing was in no way my actual dam. Her
alto croon and rolling laugh would haunt me just the same.
There was no point to histrionics. I got up, flicked a piece of the creature’s stolen heart off my sleeve, and turned to Nate.
“If you were a bomb, you’d be ticking.”
I nodded. “So I am.”
____________
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