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)
No. No. No.
And my world began to dissolve, melting into an inky black void.
Pain ripped at my skull.
I yearned to scream, to sob in agony.
Off in the distance someone whispered in my head, Master?
Bring her back! I must have her! What is happening? Where did she go?
Someone gently tapped my shoulder.
Master?
Stop it! I hissed.
I am sorry, Master.
My eyes snapped opened, but my world was not the one I knew and loved.
Instead, a colorless landscape stretched before me, and blood seeped into the greys and clots of black that twisted into the shape of bodies.
No sound came.
No song.
No melody.
No words or laughter.
Just silence.
Deafening silence.
No! It was. . .a dream. . .of an old memory.
Tons of odd red bodies surrounded my bed. My guards and servants. To me they were just faceless images of blood. Some tall. Some short. Some skinny. Some fat.
That was all I could make out with these nearly-blind pupils.
I could never truly see them.
Just blood-bodies.
No lips or eyes.
Not ears or hair.
At times I could barely see their fingers.
I. . .I want to go back.
There was no beauty in this world, only a lonesome blackness and silent screams.
Ambi. . .please take me back. I would do anything.
That aggravating voice slipped back into my head. Master, the War Council is here?
I turned to this red being, this faceless blood-body, unsure of who it was, just mad he had ended my wonderful journey in the past where life had been simple and beautiful. Where my brother stood on my side, not hidden in some mage territory with the living corpse of Phinova probably lovingly in his arms.
This person woke me.
I spoke into his mind. Who are you?
Fear radiated off the blood-shaped body. I am Canaan, Master.
I pushed my fangs out. Who told you to wake me?
You did, Master. Before you went to bed, you told me that you wanted to know when the War Council arrived and said to wake you instantly if you were asleep.
I do not remember.
Canaan’s blood rippled in terror.
I raised my hand and flicked my finger.
Fast, the blood-body surged forward and stopped at the side of my bed.
I pushed my thoughts into all those that stood in the room.
Never! Wake! Me!
Then, I snapped my fingers.
Canaan’s blood popped, turned into mist, and spilled onto the floor.
I had no idea what his death looked like to them in their reality.
Did his limbs mangle and twist?
Did his body or head explode?
Was his flesh and bones still there as he crashed to the floor?
Or did it shatter into nothing?
The vision of Canaan’s death might have been ghastly to see if I was not blind to it.
Some of my servants may have cried out in horror, but I would never hear it.
In the end, it did not matter what his death looked like.
Because in my reality,
it was nothing,
but a pop
and a wisp
of mist.
And they were nothing too.
All of them.
They were just red creatures—blood-bodies with no faces, no real way to identify them. No reasoning for why I should care about their lives.
They were just one of many thoughts in my head slipping and sliding through my brain as I bonded with thousands and thousands of these blood-bodies every day.
I must get Phinova back.
She was the only thing that made waking up—deaf, blind, and mute—worth it. Her corpse might have been cold, but her spirit was still there and her voice remained the sweetest song in my mind. For years after years, I had been working on a cure to bring her back. I was so close. The secret, the power, it was in the blood. The Phinova dominas’ blood. I just did not know how.
But she was helping me figure it out. She told me to pump her with it, and to never feed from them myself. She believed their blood could harm me, take away more of my senses. So I kept my diet to humans and saved all of the Phinova dominas for her.
And we talked.
We laughed.
We made love.
How did Ian get out of the sewers? And who is this. . .Horned King?
One thing for sure, I knew he could not kill me.
A great witch had told me long ago that my son would be the death of me, and so any and all vampire prince babies were executed.
Why would Ian think that this Horned King would have a chance?
How could my brother be so stupid?
And. . .what is he whispering in our queen’s ear?
Is he trying to get her to be against me?
Never. She is loyal. She is mine.
I had to get her back.
Without Phinova. . .there was no reason to keep anyone alive. Not the vampires and humans bonded to me.
Not the mages in the territory across from my war camp.
Not even. . .me.
All would die without her.
I must get Phinova back.
Surely, Ian was making love to her corpse now.