Sunder (verb): to break apart, to violently split in two.

She had a twin. Her other half. And then she didn't.
They were born together. They did not stay that way.
Half a soul can still walk, talk, breathe. But it is never whole.

Her mother's cruelty carved her small.
Her end came swift and brutal.
Her father's inhumanity starved her spirit,
and his sudden death left her adrift, cast into a world of shadows.

In the ruins of a forsaken church, two figures awaited her—fate, in flesh and blood.
One—a man, fierce, haunted, unyielding—ruled like a shepherd in the dark, gathering the lost to his Fold.
He had watched her long before she arrived, seeing the fracture in her soul.
When he claimed her, it was not with mercy, but with a dark promise of power.

The other—a boy like her, quiet, sharp-eyed, unbreakable—saw her for what she was,
not what she had been made to be.
Between the three of them, bonds formed in secrecy and sin.
In their embrace, she unearthed a love as dangerous as it was intoxicating.
Together, they transcended survival.
They became predators.
And in their realm, justice was cold, unrelenting, and without remorse.