Fate dragged a long, blackened talon through the throbbing organ in James’ chest. It spat back at him, droplets of blood splattering onto his grinning face. Under Fate’s hand, James convulsed wildly. He screamed, a hoarse scream doused in grief that burned the back of his throat as it welled inside him.
Fate smirked, dragging his claw across James’ heart to complete the curved pattern that gave it its name. The jagged wound oozed warm, black blood from its seams with each spasm of his chest. Blood sprayed upwards as James fought back, his heart forcing its way out of its flesh prison, exploding through the open wound. His whole body shook violently; his eyes clamped shut, his scream intensified. He called out her name, voice croaking to silence at the last syllables. Fate moved his hand down, signing one last word into the pulsating wound: Rose.
