His Prophecy, Her Shattered Spirit

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ll-healing body. He shoved me back, hard, against a marble pillar. The impact jarred my t

carriages, gave my children's names to your bastard sons, and now you desecrate my last memories with that witch!" I pointed a trembling finger at Chyna, who was

sed pain and the sting of his ultimate betrayal. Every lie, every carefully co

lash of something like hurt, quickly replaced by a chilling detachment. He had always been so careful to mai

I didn' t care. This was the truth, finally unleashed. With a primal scream, I lunged at

st the pillar, his face inches from mine. "You are truly disturbed, Amelia," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "T

ically. "Oh, Blake, she needs help. For the

ood, Amelia." He snapped his fingers. "Guards! Take her. Prepar

washing over me. He was going to put me through anot

gh the mansion, my protests muffled by their heavy hands. I fought,

alls. Father Michael, a stern-faced man in dark robes, stood waiting, flanked by sev

are troubled. Your soul is restless, your heart consume

truggling against the guards. "There's

g. "Denial is the first symptom of de

ed, but it was useless. They were relentless. Father Michael chanted in a language I didn' t understand, his voice rising in intensity.

ing prayers with every whip, claiming to beat the evil from my flesh. My skin stung, then bled, then went numb. I closed my eyes, tryin

d of incandescent coals laid out before me. Father Michael' s voice boomed, "Walk, ch

suming inferno that raced up my legs, through my entire body. I writhed, tried to pull away, but their grip was unyielding. My mind snapped, a despera

and bruises. I was vaguely aware of being lifted, carried away. The silent ro

hyna. No cold pronouncements from Blake. Just the hushed efficiency of nurses, their faces etched wi

e table. It was from Blake. A terse, impersonal message: "Your purificat

e, smiling, holding the twins. "So grateful for our beautiful, harmonious f

's. Block. My last act of defiance, a quiet severing of ties. The notification then popped up: "You

graph, every card, every tangible memory of Blake and our life together. I watched them burn, the flames consuming hi

andom destination, anywhere away from here. As the plane lifted off the tarmac, leaving behind the gli