The MC President's Forsaken Wife (Zara and Knox) novel Chapter 468

<Chapter 229-3

Chapter 229-3

+25 Points

“That the ambush was a structure of lies. Grit and Vane broke the physical world around the club, yes. It shattered the illusion that the Grinning Skulls were untouchable. It’s devastation, but it’s an event that has already happened. It’s behind you.”

She turns the second card:

The Three of Swords. A heart pierced by three silver blades, suspended beneath dark, rain–heavy clouds.

A fresh tear escapes my eye and drips onto Xena’s fur.

“Grief,” I whisper. “Right?”

“Grief,” Willow agrees quietly. “Raw, bleeding, necessary sorrow. You’re living this card right now, Locke is living this card right now.”

“What? How?”

“He lost Spoon, a boy he loved like a brother. The pain is real, Zara. There’s no hiding from the blades. But look at the clouds… they’re moving. The rain washes the wound clean.”

She reaches for the third card. The center, the present, the core:

My heart stops completely. I hold my breath, my fingers digging into Xena’s shoulder as Willow flips the final card face up onto the rug.

The Emperor.

A stern, powerful man sitting on a heavy stone throne carved with ram’s heads. He holds a scepter in one hand and an orb in the other. He wears heavy armor beneath his robes, his eyes fixed on the horizon.

A soft, shuddering breath escapes Willow’s lips. A slow, radiant smile spreads across her face, lighting up her pale features.

“Look at him, Zara,” Willow says, her voice rising with a quiet, fierce conviction that sends goosebumps cascading down my arms. “Look at him.”

I stare at the card, the gold leaf catching the morning sunlight, illuminating the armored figure on the

throne.

“I can’t predict the exact minute he comes back to you, Zara,” Willow says, leaning forward across the rug. “I can’t tell you if he comes back on his bike, in a truck, or crawling on his hands and knees through the dirt. But look at that card, look at his energy.”

She reaches across the space and presses her palm firmly against my chest, right over my hammering heart.

“Your energy and Locke’s energy are massive,” Willow says. “You’re not two people who just bumped into each other in a bar and decided to stay together because it was convenient. You’re bom from the same cosmic fire, and it’s an iron tether, Zara. A thick, unbreakable chain forged long before either of you took your first breath.”

Tears flood my eyes, but for the first time in three days, they aren’t tears of pure terror. They’re tears of profound, overwhelming release.

“Do you really think a petty, small–minded drug dealer like Vane can cut a tether like that?” Willow asks, her voice dropping to a low, fierce whisper, her eyes holding mine. “Do you think a broken MC President like Grit, and some mud in a quarry, can sever a bond that was written in the stars before the mountains were formed?”

“An enemy has his body, Zara, they have his wrists bound in steel. But Vane or whoever it is does not own his soul.”

“He’s breathing,” Willow says with absolute authority “He’s bruised he’s bleeding, and he is furious. He’s sitting in the dark somewhere right now, fighting with every single drop of blood in his veins to stay alive.”

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