Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 67437 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67437 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
One by one, the elfkin dressed me in a flowing white gown that shimmered with ethereal light. It fit me like a second skin. They slipped shoes onto my feet and brushed glittery stuff onto my cheeks and eyelids. Then, they painted my lips dark red.
Soon, the elfkin helped me rise and led me out of the tent’s back.
Are you ready for me, Seraphine?
I bit my lip.
Yes.
Then, come.
Chapter 13
A Feast of Blood
Seraphine
I thought we would be going deeper into the military camp.
However, I found myself enveloped by the dense embrace of the forest.
You are close, Seraphine. I can smell your blood.
I trembled.
That scares me.
It should not.
I don’t like that you can smell me far away.
It is the joy of our blood bond.
Or the terror of it.
His light chuckle rang in my head.
The elfkin led me through the dark and twisted forest.
We are not on mage territory.
We are not.
My heart beat faster with every step.
I hope you like my surprise, Seraphine.
We ventured deeper into the forest.
The sounds of music began to serenade my ears. It was a delicate symphony floating on the breeze.
My gaze darted around, trying to find the musicians.
Soon, the elfkin guided me toward the source, and as we emerged from the shadows, a surreal sight greeted my eyes.
Whoa.
Five blindfolded men stood in the middle of the woods playing their instruments with skill beyond this world. The music they created was a mesmerizing mix of haunting tunes and captivating harmonies, bringing out emotions I had never felt before. It almost seemed like the air was alive with their rhythm.
My heart ached.
The elfkin stopped and pointed to the left.
I turned that way and gasped.
Before me, I saw a long, elegant table adorned with glowing candles and white silk. On top of it was an array of succulent dishes—a feast fit for royalty.
Yet, my gaze was immediately drawn to the figure at the head of the table, the Quiet King.
My mouth remained parted in utter shock.
Clad in a dark, noble-looking outfit, the Quiet King’s presence was both captivating and intimidating. He wore a long, midnight black leather jacket with sparkling gold buttons. Under it, I saw a silk billowy white shirt that barely covered the definition of his muscles. And finally a large diamond-spiked crown rested on top of his head. Jagged lines of rubies streamed down the front of the crown giving the illusion that it was dripping with shimmering blood.
Dear Ambi.
My entire body hummed for him, and I hated it.
Even worse, before him, on a massive silver tray, there laid a nude, gorgeous woman—a sacrificial offering that he indulged upon.
Her soft white skin glowed like the two moons. Her long flowing black hair cascaded around her body and spread out even beyond the boundaries of the silver tray. Appearing in this trance-like state, lust and fear glazed across her blue eyes.
A sinister chill ran through my body.
Watching me the whole time, he pierced her neck and began to drink. Then, he entered my head. Welcome, little blood mage.
I widened my eyes.
The woman writhed and moaned. Blood trickled down and spilled around her pink nipples. It was a gruesome and intimate act, a display of dominance and primal need.
Unable to look away, I stood there, paralyzed by the conflicting emotions swirling within my core. The sight before me was both beautiful and grotesque, captivating and repulsive.
And deep, deep, deep within my chest. . .there was a twinge of envy that threatened to consume my senses.
The allure of the Quiet King—his commanding presence and undeniable power—drew me in despite my better judgment. And yet, the cruelty and insidious darkness that surrounded him sent bone-chilling shivers down my spine.
The orchestra continued to play, shifting their melody into this macabre symphony.
The elfkin nudged my shoulder, urging me to approach the table.
Reluctantly, I took a hesitant step, my eyes never leaving the scene unfolding in front of me.
The scent of blood hung heavy in the air and mingled with the delicate notes of the music. It was an intoxicating blend that stirred something deep within my veins.
I love the way your blood sings to me.
I gritted my teeth.
It is not singing.
I went to the other end of the table and lowered into my seat.
A plate full of exquisite food rested in front of me, but I had no appetite for that. Unfortunately, I yearned for something else.
The Quiet King’s gaze remained locked on me as he fed. And it was a dark and intense gaze that bore into my soul with a predatory hunger.
I shivered, feeling his presence in every fiber of my being. Unable to help myself, I licked my lips as if searching for some kind of relief.
What do you want, Seraphine?
Nothing.
Tell me.
Nothing.
Are you sure?
Greedily feasting, the Quiet King let out a guttural groan and buried his fangs deeper into her neck.
I parted my lips.