Tempted Knights: Rumors of War

By V. R. Vogt

LIVES WILL BE LOST, love will be tested, and allegiances will be broken, as the war raging between vampires and Knights grows dangerously close. The Alliance is forced to call upon their allies, a powerful breed of warriors known as the Lycans, to fight against the impending onslaught of destruction.
Angelo, the warrior king and Tempted Knight, is struggling with his own inner demons, resisting his thirst for blood, while his one true soul mate, Whitney, seeks to save Angelo from those out to harm him and from himself. They will stop at nothing to save each other from certain doom or die trying against all odds.
When imminent danger arises, Will their love endure? Can the Alliance prevail? Find out who survives and who becomes a casualty of war.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Dec 12, 2014
• ISBN: 9781503517851

V. R. Vogt

Born in Denver, Colorado, V. R. Vogt has always been fascinated by fantasy, adventure, and love stories. As a military wife, she moved around the globe with her husband and three boys until finally settling in Abilene, Kansas. Having dealt with dyslexia at a young age and overcoming the challenges of it all, then later having her youngest son diagnosed with autism, she began sharing her supernatural novels with the world to show her children that a disability shouldn't prevent them from accomplishing their dreams. All of lifes joys can begin from within, so dig deep and pull out a little happiness V. R. Vogt

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Copyright © 2014 by V. R. Vogt.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2014920597

ISBN:      Hardcover      978-1-5035-1783-7

      Softcover      978-1-5035-1784-4

      eBook         978-1-5035-1785-1

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 12/05/2014

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Contents

1 Evade

2 Exposed

3 Potentially Rogue

4 Inevitable Kiss

5 Old Friend

6 Wiccannian Title

7 A Warning

8 The Unstoose

9 Powerless to Ignore

10 The Promise

11 Unbreakable Bond

12 Window of Opportunity

13 Unfinished Business

14 Supremacy and Power

15 Lesson Learned

16 Human Emotions

17 A Brother

18 The Rifle’s Aim

19 A Surprise

20 A Brave Warrior

21 The Clean Up

22 Talks of War

23 Disastrous Side Effects

24 The Devil’s Bite

25 Linked for Life

26 Theatre of War

27 With Child

28 Certain Death

29 Life and Death

30 Back in Time

31 Asking Properly

32 Beautiful Female

For Dad and Mom—

Your endless faith in me and unconditional love,

which has carried me through life, giving me

strength whenever I’d felt weak.

I love you both dearly.

There are those who have forsaken me.

There are those who have betrayed me.

There are those who still hunt me.

And there are those deserving who will suffer greatly,

For I am an immortal with a vengeance, and

the time has come to unleash my wrath.

Acknowledgments

Deepest heartfelt thanks to a real hero, my awesome and brave husband, Damon, for his twenty years serving in the military before retiring and for always making the time to assist me with everything from book-related events to helping around the house.

Big hugs and kisses to my biggest young supporters, my three wonderful boys who have all helped in many ways to inspire the Tempted Knights series and for giving me the courage to share them with the world.

Tons of love and thanks to the best parents in the world—my classy father, Earl Vogt, and my beautiful mother, Evangelist Darlene Vogt, for their unconditional love and faith in me and the countless things they’ve done, like helping me advertize my books to people.

Lots of love and much appreciation goes out to a natural and talented artist, my lovely and amazing mother-in-law, Sharon Poteet, for sharing her natural gifts and creating such fabulous eye-catching book covers for the Tempted Knights series.

To my personal adviser and preeditor, Jennifer Horton, for all of her hard work, advice, and encouragement through this long and exciting journey. I honestly can’t thank her enough. She has truly been a superb mentor, but most of all, a treasured friend. And to my sister, Rochelle Gallardo, and my dear friend Teri Rottinghaus, both wonderful ladies who gave me honest feedback after getting the first glimpse into Rumors of War before it had even been published. I am very grateful to them both.

To Project-Nerd’s Chief Editor Erin Mich, thank you tons for the honest and insightful book reviews of Tempted Knights. Now readers out there will see that my Knights will keep them wanting more.

Thanks to Xlibris for their continued guidance and assistance throughout the production and publication of my story.

And last, but certainly not least, a special thank you goes out to all the amazing Tempted Knights fans for helping spread the word about my modern-day Knights.

My sincere and eternal gratitude to you all!

Hugs!

Tempted Knights

Last Chance

Warrior’s Sacrifice

Rumors of War

Warrior’s Crusade coming in 2015

Prologue

1667, KALAMAR, ITALY

Revenge …

This simple word is the substance which drives us to think and do unimaginable things to others who have done us wrong. And as the sun rose on this very day, it brought with it the authorization I had been waiting for to fulfill a long-pending yearning for retribution of my own.

Fully geared in my black warrior attire—shirt, pants, boots, and matching black hooded cloak bearing the smooth silvery Alliance crest embroidered in the center of the back—I rushed down the castle’s stone steps with the train of my cloak flowing in the wake of my sprinting stride. I was more than eager to head out, dashing through the castle’s door and then outside directly to retrieve my horse without delay.

A report of the whereabouts of a particular male I loathed had come in from the Scouts at first light, and I was not about to let that murderer get away yet again. He had last been seen at the Ruins of Drevenon.

Long before my birth, the Drevenon Castle had once been occupied by a bitter king until vampires had devastated their entire kingdom one year before the attacks on the Kingdom of Kalamar had even begun.

Approaching my midnight steed, I slid the hood over my head with urgent swiftness and grabbed the leather reins from the stable boy. As I mounted my horse promptly, my king called out to me from behind, Donatus!

I turned the stallion about to face the fierce and fearless warrior, King Michelangelo Rotolo of Kalamar. Head held high and with a leader’s stance, the king stood at the castle’s doorway with two elite guards, the Punishers, one on each side of him.

Adorned with a golden crown gilded with precious stones upon his shoulder-length brown hair of natural dark and light tones, King Michelangelo was young but prudent. And with an eggshell-white top under a heavy black velvet robe draping off his muscled shoulders, black pants, and boots, the male was a display of royalty in his extravagant garments but wore the gaze that of a warrior craving to join me on my quest. Had he not other matters to attend to as a king, he would have been leading this group this very day.

Heed my words, he said with his sapphire eyes directed solely on me. Hold strong, Donatus, and never forget who you are. You are a Knight of the Alliance and represent all that is good. Bring death to the guilty and be done with it.

Understanding my king’s unspoken words for me not to lose my temper, I knew it was going to be difficult to obey them once I found the male I sought after; simply thinking of the guilty male I was about to execute had my blood boiling alone.

To have that killer in my grasp? Conclusively, that was going to send me over the boundary far from my duty as a Knight of the Alliance, delivering me to an unchartered territory as a bonded male.

Ready for my three-month journey from Kalamar to carry out my mission, I took in the surroundings of Crusaldon one last time. The castle had already begun the preparations to be moved to new lands in a foreign country. Brick by brick, most of the castle had already been taken down and moved to the ports where they were loaded upon massive ships. Before the upcoming winter, the king would travel by ship along with scores of selected Knights to relocate to the Americas.

Noticing several wagons loaded with stones and bricks around the square, I had to ask, Might I be granted one request, my liege?

What is it you wish?

Returning my attention back on King Michelangelo, I told him, Should I not return before your voyage to the Americas, with your blessing, I wish for my female to accompany you and the chosen Knights.

Fear naught, Donatus, he said to me, I shall see to it personally that Lady Yolanda is cared for in your absence.

Thank you, my liege. I bowed my head in gratitude as I was about to leave my grieving female behind for an important and personal mission.

"Never lose faith, Donatus. You will return before our journey and you will both be on that ship with me."

Holding the leather reins with one hand and crossing my other over my chest, fist over heart, I bowed my head once more to him. It was to King Michelangelo that I owed my eternal gratitude to because he had given me this opportunity to seek justice for my female, for me, and many others.

God be with you, brother of mine. The young king bowed his head, giving me permission to proceed.

I pulled the reins to the side, turning my horse about as I gave the order to the awaiting Knights. We ride!

Spurring my horse, I steered the beast in a rush out of the square. With five Dark Seeker Knights following behind, the hunt to execute a deadly and powerful male Tornic Wilkie had begun.

There was gossip among the Knighthood that Tornic Wilkie, once a Wiccanna and once a Knight, was also a mercenary who helped only those in need solely for profit. But four seasons ago, he had ventured his way to our command and training center at the eastside of Crusaldon in search for what he believed was rightfully his—or so he had claimed.

Sometime ago, on Tornic’s sojourn home, he had eyed my female’s younger sister Grace Ramos during her weapon training. He had then left for a short while only to return and announced that Gracie was his Destined Female. Tornic posed to each and every one that his soul had recognized her as his.

Aware of the male’s selfish reputation, my gut warned me that it was all lies Tornic had spoken. Thus I had watched from the shadows where I witnessed him treating her like a mere servant girl when others weren’t around to bear witness to her bringing him food, rubbing his feet, and humble to him to satisfy his short temper. After seeing the way Tornic had Gracie serving his needs rather than the other way around confirmed it: Tornic Wilkie was mendacious and only using Gracie.

A male who had found his Destined Female was compelled to attend to her needs and would never have her serve him or treat her ill. The gift of Soul Sight wouldn’t allow it. The powerful spell was placed on all male Knights in the Alliance, but because we were mere mortals, the spell came to be intensified, making us almost animalistic when it came to protecting, defending, and caring for our Destined Females. Tornic Wilkie had acted in no such way toward Gracie.

We who had found our Destined Females would never have our beloveds acting as mere servants to us. We cherished them, loved them, and would die for them. They were honored and highly treasured throughout the Alliance, as they were the females who would bring forth the next generation of Knights.

A Destined Female was valued throughout the eyes of all, and I felt it my duty to protect the young girl and share with others my notice of Tornic’s insolent behavior. After seeking counsel on this matter from my closest friend King Michelangelo, it was his words of advice, which had sent me on a path to end this mockery of Soul Sight.

I sought a private audience with Gracie’s parents, and after speaking my concerns to them, they had decided to forbid the relationship to continue any further. They became aware that Tornic was too old for their daughter and too conniving, whereas Gracie was too innocent and too easily influenced.

The following day, my king led our group on a two-month journey to aid a small village in the western lands where reports had indicated a vampire attack. With no survivors in the little village, we cut the heads off of the dead and removed the hearts of all before returning to Crusaldon. But upon our return home, we had all learned from a peasant girl that Tornic asked Gracie’s parents for her hand, but they had forbidden Gracie from marrying him. Tornic was still eager to have Gracie as his own personal slave. Therefore, that snake had courted her secretively until he had finally convinced her to run away with him the night before our return.

Yolanda’s parents went to retrieve Gracie, but when they hadn’t returned, I sought after them, accompanied by some of my brethren, leaving Yolanda behind in fear of what I would find. Regrettably, my internal assumption was correct. By the time we had arrived to a small hut in the forest outside of the Kingdom of Allacon where Tornic was last seen heading, it was too late.

Even as my stallion carried me fast over the vast terrain in this present moment, the haunting memories were forever burned deep into my skull as a cut from a blade leaves a scar ingrained on the skin. Upon entering the little hut that day, my heart had stopped when I had found the scorched remains of three individuals lying on the ground burnt to a crisp. The air was thick with the stench of burnt flesh with smoke still trailing up from the charcoaled skeletons.

While standing with my hand covering my nose and mouth from the horrible smell, my heart ached for Yolanda’s loss. I knew it was going to devastate her to no end. And had Yolanda not been out on a vampire hunt with me and our king when her parents sought after Gracie, this would have been too devastating for me as well because my female would have died alongside those she loved—I would have lost her too.

It was as I stood over the charcoaled bones, heartbroken and utterly stunned by the horrific scene that day, when one of my brethren had called my attention to him at the door. Sir Donatus, he had said, come. You must to see this.

Promptly, I wheeled around and followed the Knight outside. Behind the hut, the other Knights stood around a male who lay wounded with his back propped up against a tree trunk, his frayed garments blood soaked, his hand held over his bleeding stomach. Coughing up blood, the male appeared to be barely alive.

I approached him and knelt down. Easy. I mean you no harm, I assured him, gently placing my hand on his. I removed his trembling limb with care to see the damage that was done and nearly gagged at the sight. He had been holding his hand over his internal organs that had been pulled out from his body.

Whipping my attention up at Jack Nelson, I ordered the Knight, Fetch me my medicine sack from my horse.

With a bow, Jack spun around and hurried off.

Returning my attention back at the dying male, sympathetically I said, What name have you been given?

G-Giulio, he stuttered his whispering words with tears raining down his flushed face.

Jack scurried back and handed me the brown pelt sack; I quickly dug into it and snatched the small bottle containing my homemade medicinal brew. I knew the assortment of herbs and liquid remedy wouldn’t heal this male. His wounds were beyond mending, but I wanted to ease his suffering if at all possible.

Carefully supporting the back of Giulio’s head with my hand, I lifted the small bottle to his lips with my other. Here, friend, drink. Allow this to ease your pain.

Giulio’s lips parted slightly, and as I poured a little in his mouth, he took a couple of swallows before coughing and spitting up more blood. When his coughing subsided some, I attempted to give him more, but he pushed my hand away. Struggling to get the words out, he stuttered, H-he … b-b-burned them … slowly.

Standing to my right, Jack prompted, Who is responsible for the evil done here this day?

I held my hand up, silencing the eager and demanding Knight. We had already known who the person responsible was, but we needed validation from the witness, and the wounded male required a good time to speak.

It was our belief that Tornic had used his powers to kill my female’s entire family and hurt this feeble peasant. Nonetheless, we had to confirm it.

We were also well aware that because Tornic had used his magic to murder and hurt innocents, he had changed into a merciless Wicco too. But again, we needed affirmative details to provide the evidence of what had transpired here as fact, and the wounded male needed our patience to speak.

Lowering my hand, I tucked the small bottle back into the sack and more kindly addressed the dying male, Giulio, might you have a name to give us?

Giving him time to gather his strength, I set the sack aside on the ground and patiently waited for him to answer.

With a hard grimace and tears pouring from his brown eyes, Giulio stammered his struggling words as he said, T-t-they c-c-called him … T-T-Tornic.

I knew he was referring to they as either Gracie’s parents or all three.

Jack was about to speak, and again, I held my hand up, allowing Giulio to finish what he needed to say. Then after a long moment and a great deal of coughing up blood, Giulio was able to tell us that he was passing through when he overheard a heated argument. He snuck up to a window on the side of the hut to observe, and there he had witnessed Tornic kill the parents first and then the young girl next. Giulio tried to run away when Tornic saw him and was hit by a burning blast of magic too, which, instead of burning him, tore his stomach open.

Hearing the details, a large part of me ached with grief for my female and her family, and the other half was filling with unbound rage.

It wasn’t long before Giulio was unable to say anything more. He seemed close to his last breath as his gaze went distant and his shoulders relaxed. I was surprised that he had survived this long in his gruesome condition.

When his body went still, I reached to him and closed his eyelids, whispering, Rest in peace, Giulio, for I vow to you this day, I shall avenge you along with my female’s family so that your soul and theirs may be at ease.

That day, I had given an oath, and every time I had come close to seeing it through, Tornic had escaped me—but not this time. No, I felt it in my bones that soon his blood would spill for what he had done.

Many seasons have passed since Tornic had performed that mass execution of my female’s family, and we had yet to capture that monster and punish him for his heinous crimes. Not only had he viciously murdered an innocent bystander and a young female but he also had killed two of the Alliance’s warriors.

Since then, male and female Knights alike were out to find Tornic Wilkie for execution, but Tornic had sadistically slaughtered nearly every Knight who sought him out. And seeing with my own set of eyes Tornic’s successful achievement in eliminating other Knights, vampires were mild in comparison to this ruthless animal.

By orders from King Michelangelo, it wasn’t long before all groups of Knights were banded from hunting Tornic Wilkie any longer—apart from a special group of Knights known as the Dark Seekers. Dark Seekers alone were permitted to continue the hunt thereon since they were capable of handling a Wicco with their proficient experience and extraordinary weapons. They alone possessed the arrows forged from one of the oldest trees in the Wiccannian realm Eldon.

It was said that these ancient trees, known as Bloodwood, lived for tens of thousands of years. They were unlike any of the trees within our human realm. No lush foliage, nor were they green for that matter, and they looked more like a clear glass or crystal but neither were made of those elements. Instead, these magnificent trees bleed when being cut down, and its sap-like blood dyes its unique clear streaks, giving the dark red appearance of this strong and durable substance the Wiccannians call wood.

The arrowheads were crafted from the same Bloodwood and branded with a Wiccannian pictogram of a lightning bolt broken in half to not only able to bind magical powers if touching the skin of a Wicco or Wiccanna, but if piercing the skin, the target would also fall under the arrowhead’s unyielding spell like a scorpion’s bite, trapping them in their own body to be slain.

Yes, the unfortunate soul pierced by one of these arrows would yet hear, speak, and see all just as they would feel the pain delivered to them all while rendered motionless.

And I was counting on that, because I hungered for Tornic to endure great pain for his wicked sins.

As a Vigilant Knight, I was a vampire slayer. But as a bonded male, I was given permission by King Michelangelo to lead a group of Dark Seekers to seek the justice my female and I both required.

Riding alongside my five brethren Knights as rapid as the stormy winds blew, the hoofs of our mighty steeds struck the ground thunderously while we charged across the grassy terrain for days on end. We only stopped to rest our horses and our bodies but never for long. I had forbidden myself to allow Tornic to evade me again.

The Ruins of Drevenon ahead, one Knight shouted as we rode onward toward the old castle at the peak of a hill at long last.

Needing to silence our approach, I held my hand up for everyone to slow down their galloping horses to a trotting pace. Then seeking shelter under the surrounding forest, we all dismounted our horses and tied the reins to nearby trees. We hadn’t much daylight left to get the task done before we risked other dangers, but that wasn’t going to prevent me from getting to my target.

Lowering my hood from my head, I peered up to the cloudy sky, saying a silent prayer to be granted the justice I was dedicated to serving the male responsible for not only the death of many, and other Knight’s, but for my female’s suffering and my own internal torment as well.

You best strike him before he strikes you with his magic, one Knight said, drawing my concentration to him. He then handed me an Archer’s quiver, the long leather cylinder tube containing five special Bloodwood arrows.

With the arrowheads pointing down and the feathered ends sticking up, I inspected one, sliding it out to look at the broken lightning bolt marked on the wooden tip.

And aim true, another said as he tossed me a crossbow. You won’t get another chance should you miss, Donatus.

I noticed each of the Knights had lengthy slender wooden bows in hand, unlike me who needed a crossbow. Dark Seeker Knights were expert marksmen among the Alliance and used the old-style weapon of fine arch-shaped wood and well-built string.

Slipping my arms through the straps of the quiver, I positioned it on my back. I do not plan on missing my target, I told the Knights, pulling my hood back up to cover my head.

I wheeled around to lead the way through the green foliage. Not wanting to alert a Wicco of our arrival while taking it slow and ordering the other men to do the same, I needed our movements to be flawlessly swift and soundless as we headed toward the vacant castle.

Undetected, we were like ghosts moving on foot silently to the aged castle left in ruins. Nevertheless, my heart was loud and alive and racing with fury and anticipation. I had waited a very long time for this day to come, and I felt it in my gut that Tornic was near. This was going to be my day of glory, serving justice for all those who suffered by his sinful acts.

The sun was lowering behind the horizon as we reached the outer walls of the castle at length. I waved my hand, signaling for everyone to split up. When they took off in all directions, I then eyed the second level as if instinct was guiding me where to go.

Once I sneaked inside through an opening in the cracked wall, I treaded softly all the way through the Grand Hall in the heart of the Drevenon Castle and made it to the sandstone steps. Then climbing to the second level, I heard a faint voice mumbling as if someone was talking to themselves in one of the bedchambers at the end of the access strip.

Coming up to the open doorway, carefully, I peeked around the open doorway of a large bedchamber that was once fit for a king and now ordained with tattered rags that were once beautiful hangings for the castle windows. Through the off-centered windows, the evening sun and clouds were at war with each other, casting deep shadows in the far right end of the room where a set of broken chairs were forgotten. Not far from the broken chairs, and all but concealed in the veil of darkness, an old wardrobe stood mighty tall amongst the worthless furnishings.

And that’s where I spied Tornic Wilkie at last.

The Wicco emerged out from the shadows, pacing and carrying on a conversation—except, aside from the few scarce furnishings left in ruins in the dimly lit room, I saw no one present in Tornic’s company.

I am all powerful and will not succumb to their pathetic Knight laws, he said, rambling on. They should bow before me, not that worthless king. Heed my words, for I shall make all Knights pay. He sneered. And let them dare try to stop me!

With Tornic talking to himself, I believed the male had gone mad with magic.

Ducking out of sight, I reached over my shoulder, behind my back, and drew out an arrow. Inserting the smooth lengthy stick into the crossbow, I stepped in front of the doorway and aimed. I pulled the trigger immediately, taking the shot, sending the dark red arrow soaring across the spacious chamber with whispering speeds. It pierced Tornic in between his shoulder blades, dropping him to his knees before he planted his hands on the ground to catch himself.

Tornic quickly reached behind his back with one hand while holding himself up with his other, trying to reach the weapon sticking out of his bleeding back. Grunting through his teeth and failing to remove the arrowhead, he struggled to keep himself up. But soon it would be too late. The arrowhead had already begun its rule over him.

Lowering the crossbow to my side, I entered the room. Can you feel your limbs weakening? Can you feel your magic bound? The Dark Seekers’ arrowhead shall soon take full effect and leave you helpless as your victims were. Closing the distance between us with determined stride, I said, Tell me, Tornic. How does it feel to be damned?

As I stopped before him, Tornic lifted his dark black eyes to look at me. An evil smirk emerged upon his stubbly face. Tell me, Donatus. How fares your female?

The memories of Yolanda’s loved ones burnt to death, and Yolanda falling apart with the news of their fatal outcome, and the consequences of her unbearable grief hit me with a violent torrent, making my thoughts spin with poignant influence.

I tossed my crossbow aside to the ground and reached down toward Tornic, snapping the arrow’s long stem sticking out of his back, leaving the arrowhead to remain inside of him. Tornic Wilkie, you have been found guilty and sentenced to death by orders of the king. I kicked him in his shoulder with my boot, sending him rolling over to his side and then his spine. And I am here to see it done.

Tornic laughed as if simply amused. You Knights are all the same. Using Wiccannian magic to aid you? Weak pathetic Knights, unable to do what must be done with your own human weapons.

For once he spoke true. For if not for Wiccannian magic, the Wicco, no doubt, would have invaded my head as he had easily controlled others before me.

Towering over Tornic’s motionless body, I reached for my dagger with its ridged blade from my belt. Twirling the weighty dagger in my hand, I glared back at him in silence as he said, Do not praise yourself for succeeding where others have failed, Donatus. If you do not release me, your fate shall turn out the same as those Knights who had failed to capture me as well.

Gripping the hilt of my dagger in my palm, I felt the deep lines between my brows deepen with a thought. Had Tornic used his abilities to control someone in Crusaldon as a personal minion for him?

Yes, I realized now. It was easy for Tornic to get inside of any mortal’s head. It was the only way he could have known the Alliance was hunting him in advance every time.

You had your own personal scout, I found myself saying to him.

Alas, a vampire had taken week ago, was his response, confirming my private thoughts. That explained Tornic having been unprepared of my arrival.

I do hope he suffered a long and painful death. The corner of Tornic’s lips curled upward once more as if taking pleasure in the malicious thought.

And you shall feel the pain of those you killed and beg for mercy.

Forgive my absence of fear, Donatus, but you are not worthy of me to summon any. Perhaps you should send in another.

The mere thought of another punishing Tornic in my place had my pulse growing at a violent rate. I pressed my dagger’s serrated blade into Tornic’s forearm, but stabbing him didn’t seem to get the reaction out of him that I truly and deeply wanted—no, correction: I needed.

Tornic merely grunted from the pain while I sought to see him—

A gasp-like noise snatched my attention in the direction of the shadows in the far right end of the room. My narrowing eyes quickly scanned the area not far from the standing wardrobe that the deep shadows had all but swallowed up from sight, except the only breathing creature present was a rodent creeping along the set of broken chairs.

Allow me to offer you a trade, Donatus, Tornic prompted, snatching my attention back on him. The Alliance has many enemies. Release me, and I shall grant you the names of those who seek to kill your young king. I vow to provide the name of the ones who rule all vampires.

You speaketh lies in hopes to save your own worthless life, but your lies will not aid you this time.

The Knights will bear great losses if you refuse my offer—

"Silence! Judgment has befallen upon you. You will die this day, I say!"

Tornic’s black Wicco eyes narrowed at me. So be it, you fool, but heed my words, Donatus. My death will be avenged and bring forth the end of the Alliance. I swear to you this: You humans will all breathe your last breath.

Returning my dagger to my belt, I reached over my shoulder, behind my back, snatching out another arrow. "Heed my words, you filthy rodent. I will be the cause of your last breath. I stabbed him in the chest, deliberately missing his heart with the fresh Bloodwood arrow, which forced a groan out of him. Not before you suffer for all those you have wronged."

Plagued with excruciating memories and a desire for retribution galloping around my head with no end had me peering around for something to make use of. I looked back over at the set of broken chairs and the wardrobe cloaked in the shadows. Then toward the center of the room, my eyes locked on a four-post table, seemingly strong enough to—

It’s a shame your female didn’t perish from the mixture of deadly herbs I had my minion serve her in the stew he brewed for her.

What! I shot Tornic a fierce scowl.

Recalling the day I had returned with the devastating news to Yolanda about her deceased family, heart-piercing images sank in my head now. It had taken me four months of traveling until that day of my return with the terrible information—the same day I had learned that Yolanda was with child, my child, a son. The trauma and grief from the tragic news of her family’s deaths had caused Yolanda to lose the babe days after—or so we had assumed.

How wrong had I been for believing that that was what caused it? Tornic had openly revealed his failed plan of poisoning my female, which had me now believing that that was the true cause of our son’s death.

This Wicco’s confession had me ripping the Archer’s quiver off my back and hurling it to the floor with unbound rage consuming every part of me. You had her poisoned?

Tornic’s pleasure was far too apparent. "Foolish human. Had I known prior that she was swollen with your babe, I would have made the journey back to Kalamar myself. I would have savored the sweet sound of her squealing like a wild sow while I gutted out your child from her womb with my bare hands—"

Furious, I kicked Tornic in the face with my boot and left a rewarding gash in his lip as evidence. Grabbing a fist full of the bastard’s hair, I dragged Tornic over to the four-post table in the far corner of the bedchamber where I hauled him up and slammed him on top of it with a weighty thud. And when the fool actually began to chuckle once more, I punched him persistently until he lost consciousness to silence him yet again.

With rapid heavy breaths from beating Tornic unconscious, I removed my cloak swiftly, tossing it to the floor.

Well done, Donatus, I heard a voice behind me say.

Glancing over my shoulder, I found the Dark Seeker Knight leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded over his chest. Now the question is … whatever shall you do with him?

As I see fit, I said sharply.

Leaving the support of the doorframe, the Knight came and stood beside me, looking down at Tornic. He sighed, shaking his head. You are about to act not as a Knight but as a vengeful man, Donatus. The arrows were given to you to be used for justice.

This is justice. Tornic is mine by right to do what I will. Gather everyone, and wait for me by the horses. Do not look back, and cover your ears from what wails you might hear.

What are you considering doing to him?

With a hard glare, I snapped at him, I am the right arm of King Michelangelo Rotolo, and I do not answer to you. Now be gone!

Hesitant at first, the male studied me for a long moment. He then gave a low bow of his head before leaving.

Left with eerie silence, I cut all clothing from Tornic’s body, leaving him naked where he lay. I then snatched the arrow out of his chest, and he slowly began to awaken—unfortunately, not from any pain from the arrowhead being viciously ripped out as I had hoped.

Look at me, I demanded him while smacking his stubbly face to rouse him fully. Look upon the face of your punisher!

Tornic’s eye fluttered open, but the arrow’s power proved steady as this pathetic Wicco lay stationary on the table. His wide-eyed stare was one of utter shock as he struggled against the invisible hands holding his body in place. And from the panicked expression on his stubby face, it was obvious that he just realized that he was about to endure the wrath of a bonded male’s fury.

Witnessing Tornic’s terrified reaction and sensing the alarm radiating off of him, a vengeful smirk grew upon my face. Tossing my dagger, flipping it in the air, and catching it by the hilt one-handedly each time it came down, I continued this action methodically while stating with a false calmness, You shall feel the pain of those you killed. Tossing the knife once more, I caught my dagger, tightened my grip on the hilt, and drove the seven-inch serrated blade into his forearm while declaring, "And you will beg for mercy!"

Tornic moaned through his teeth in pain. This was pure satisfaction for me.

I knew Drevenon Castle was crawling with rats as I heard more gasp-like squeaks, but crazed with rage, I cared naught that the rodents would feast on this Wicco’s flesh once I was done with him. His vile words alone had him deserving this malice.

Keeping my sights solely on Tornic, I sneered, Beg, and began carving out the top layer of skin from his arm while he wailed from the pain I was serving him. But I paid no heed to his cries for mercy as I continued. For my female, I growled, picturing her weeping for days after losing her family and the dreadful feeling I had of being unable to ease her misery. Beg! Beg, I say!

Mercy! Tornic bawled. I beg of you!

Yes, you ruthless murderer. Beg! I carved out more flesh from Tornic’s shoulder moving down to one side of his chest. All the while, he beseeched with tears and sometimes garbled pleas as I sliced away his fleshy tissue, removing piece by piece and layer by layer.

Haunting memories were flashing in my head faster and washing away any rational thinking. With gruesome images cramming my mind, my emotions went wild, and I was heaving with rage. For Yolanda’s mother, father, and sister! I roared, remembering the burnt bodies on the ground and the horrible stench of it. "Beg for mercy, you heartless bastard. Beg!"

I moved the blade up to Tornic’s shoulder, and more yells came from him.

Out of control like a feral beast, I hungered for this male to suffer the worst level of torture anyone had ever endured. Enraged, I hollered, Does it burn, you bastard! How do you think they felt when you roasted them? I’m here to grant you the same slow and brutal agony as you served them threefold, and I shall revel in your torment!

Yes, Tornic’s howls of hellish torment were pleasing to my ears, and I desired more for all the torture and anguish he had caused. Beg, I say! I demanded. Beg for forgiveness of your sins! Beg for mercy!

Mercy! Screaming and bawling, Tornic’s head rolled and thrashed about as I moved up toward the middle of his chest, removing more of his flesh. I beg of you!

And for every Knight you killed and for Giulio! I growled over Tornic’s screams and slashed his stomach open with deadly intent. I reached in and tugged out a fist full of his insides. "For wanting to rip my son from my female’s body, beg, damn you! Blinded by tears of my own, I shouted on a sob, For my innocent son, you callous demon!"

I continued my harsh punishment, repeatedly driving the blade into Tornic. And before I realized it, the bawling and gurgling screams were silent, and Tornic’s struggling movements were no more.

Tornic Wilkie was dead at last.

Studying the gory sight on the table and floor for a lengthy time, I felt no relief from what I had done. No feelings of triumph. No feelings of relief.

I felt cold inside. Alone. Empty.

Like a monster, I had cold-bloodedly skinned Tornic alive and gutted him until his dying breath. Knights never tortured another being, ever. We were honorable warriors, upholding the laws to protect the weak, the innocent, and the unaware from deadly creatures. I had performed no less of an evil act as any of those we had hunted and slain.

My hands shaking, I stumbled back from the bloody mess and dropped the dagger, letting it fall to the ground with a heavy clanging bounce. Grimacing down at my bloodstained hands, I murmured, Dear God. What have I done?

A heavy hand landed on my shoulder. Do not blame yourself, Donatus, the Knight said. I hadn’t even heard him return.

Mortified with myself, I glanced across at him and saw each and every one of the Dark Seekers standing in the chamber staring at me with sympathetic gazes. They had heard all and witnessed my atrocious loss of control.

It’s the bonding in you which took over, the Knight said, I have seen it before in others and recognized it in your madden gaze. That’s why I had not left. I merely stood outside the room and waited for this to pass. Your female has suffered great losses as have you. You needed to release this inner torture to be freed from it.

As if I could elude the inner fury and vindictiveness I had already given free rein to, I shook my head, saying, I should be punished for what I have done here this day.

No, my brother, he argued sternly. You have suffered long enough. It is time to heal, time to return to your female. She mourns as do you for your loss, and you need to go to her, be with her, console each another.

I forced a complying nod at him, and then he said, It is time. We must depart, for the hours of darkness are nearly upon us. There are tales of blood drinkers still possessing this land. We are mere Dark Seekers, not Vigilant Vampire Slayers like you.

Come, the other Knight said, approaching me. There’s a stream nearby. Let’s get you cleaned before we journey home, brother.

We will take care of the remains here, the first Knight said, glancing around at the carnage. Returning his gaze at me, he held his chin high. We shall never speaketh of this day again and to no one. Justice has been served, and the guilty is dead. We shall never worry about Tornic Wilkie again.

Yes, after a long wait, the hunt to punish him was over at last. Nevertheless, the memories of the victims’ deaths by the hands of Tornic Wilkie would forever be carried within the hearts of all those who suffered his merciless wrath.

And all are safe from here on out.

1

Evade

PRESENT DAY.

I N THE TIME of my father’s ruling, I was but a babe yet. King Anatolio De Luca was superior, fearless, and cherished most of all. His death had brought down the hearts of many until hope grew with my rising age, giving the people the faith of another great king of the Alliance to come. Where many had believed I was going to develop into a majestic and mighty leader as my father before me, regretfully, I had failed them all.

Over five years ago, I had become what my father had once hunted—what many still hunted. I was living by feeding off blood as a monster. I was a monster. Nothing more than a natural predator, my life as Michelangelo Rotolo, King of the Alliance and a Vigilant Knight among my brethren, was no more.

Scrubbing my skin raw until it burned would not cleanse the infection that my body carried. No modern-day medical technology would drain the venom out from my veins or heal me. I was lost to the nature of a blood seeker, a hunter for blood, a lethal threat. A vampire is what I had become.

There was no cure. There was no hope.

And there was definitely no deliverance for me.

As a Knight, I once lived by the Codes of Loyalty. As a king, I defended those laws that were set before me. As a Tempted Knight who tasted the bittersweet flavor of a mortal’s blood but once, I gave up all those cares and worries of my old life.

For I now had only one thing dominating my vampiric mentality.

Taipan’s blood.

Taipan, a ruthless killer, was the reason I had become what I was. His vampire venom had changed my appetite, my thoughts, and my life indefinitely. His blood was going to spill for all he had caused me by his cruelness—or fangs as it were. Above everything else, Taipan had hurt the female I loved with my heart and soul: My Destined Female, Whitney Johnson.

Ripping into her tiny fragile wrist with his fangs, Taipan had taken Whitney’s blood with two vicious bites back in December, five months ago. Had he had a conscience still, that bastard might have grown some compassion. Had Whitney been only human, even I knew he would have infected her to make me suffer.

By changing Whitney into a blood-lusting animal, it would have indeed torn my heart into pieces. But she was more than human. She was a descendant of Wiccannas.

Wiccannas were a humanlike species originally known as Wiccannian that had entered the human domain from another realm at some point in the earlier period of mankind. During earlier civilization, the newcomers were given the tribal name Wiccanna. Throughout time, the Wiccannians had human families, and because of the mixed blood through the ages, only few offspring ended up inheriting the Wiccannian genes through gender, allowing them magical abilities when they came of age.

Whitney’s great ancestor Princess Karza Zippora was an original Wiccannian with immense powers. Her magic was with no equal. It had been over nine hundred years since any female in Whitney’s family had active powers until Whitney received them last fall, just after a blue moon, literally.

And had she not received them, Taipan would have infected her with his venom deliberately to hurt me. But the Wiccannian blood that pumped through Whitney’s body had protected her from that vampire’s spitefulness.

Yes, that bastard was going to die but not without feeling absolute torture before I sent him to the depths of hell where he belonged.

It was because of that cruel vampire that I had been forced to drink from a mortal, Steve Johnson. Whitney’s older sibling had been infected after a vampire attack at her house orchestrated by Taipan. In order to save my female the agony and sorrow of losing her loved one, I took it upon myself to drain Steve’s tainted blood in hopes of saving him from becoming a vampire himself.

Thankfully, it worked. Sadly, it changed me.

I had never tasted human blood before, and because I had resisted it, my human conscience had been intact, but now? My mind was fighting on a daily basis against the bloodlust, tempting me to take the forbidden blood that I craved.

Now, as I scanned the city streets in the showdowns of the night, it took everything in me to not attack a human to slake my thirst. Where there was once a slight hope of redemption for me, now had been replaced with vengeance. Hope bled into anger. Happiness had vanished until there was only rage left in its place.

Yes, there was only one task ahead.

Hunger for retribution drove my mind, my limbs, and my destiny. Scanning the lands far and wide in the shadows of night with one purpose in mind, it alone pushed me forward. But it wasn’t without difficulty.

Feeding from what I craved was forbidden. Starving was not an option.

And I was lost with haunting memories of what I had become.

A son of a magnificent and heroic leader, I was the chosen one. Me. I was expected to lead the Alliance in future