Lulu

My grip around Dorian’s neck loosened completely when my mother’s name, Mary Ann, left his lips with a longing so painfully deep. I stared at him in disbelief; the man branded by the Order as a ruthless fugitive and the “Blood Architect” had just admitted that he loved my mother.

“You’re lying,” I hissed, even though my heart was beating strangely.

“Touch my hand, Lulu. See for yourself,” he whispered hoarsely.

“How do you know I can see the past?”

“Niobe.”

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