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Tempted Knights: Warrior's Sacrifice
Tempted Knights: Warrior's Sacrifice
Tempted Knights: Warrior's Sacrifice
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Tempted Knights: Warrior's Sacrifice

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RAISED IN THE TRADITIONS of the earliest knights, Michelangelo Rotolo, Angelo, comes from a long line of warriors known as the Knights of the Alliance. Due to the uprise of missing Knights and civilians, Angelo is summoned to headquarters along with his three trusted comrades who risk everything to keep his vampire curse concealed from the Alliance. They discover that a traitor among the knighthood has been conspiring with Taipan the vicious vampire who had infected Angelo, who is believed to be behind the abductions and is the key reason for Whitney's fear of losing her brother Steve.

Angelo is no stranger to selfless sacrifices and tough decisions, but in the face of new imminent threats, will Angelo be able to keep his secret from fellow slayers, protect his soul mate Whitney from harm, and save her brother as promised? Can he exact revenge on Taipan once and for all, or will fate strike such a devastating blow that will forever change Angelo's life?

LanguageEnglish
PublisherXlibris US
Release dateJun 29, 2013
ISBN9781483657790
Tempted Knights: Warrior's Sacrifice
Author

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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    Tempted Knights - V. R. Vogt

    Copyright © 2013 by V. R. Vogt.

    Library of Congress Control Number:   2013911227

    ISBN:      Hardcover     978-1-4836-5778-3

                    Softcover      978-1-4836-5777-6

    Ebook           978-1-4836-5779-0

    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.

    Rev. date: 06/29/2013

    To order additional copies of this book, contact:

    Xlibris Corporation

    1-888-795-4274

    www.Xlibris.com

    Orders@Xlibris.com

    133260

    Table of Contents

    1.   A New Day

    2.   The Uncertainties

    3.   The Call

    4.   The Request

    5.   The Quarrelling

    6.   The Unveiling

    7.   The Ride

    8.   The Bond Between

    9.   The Gladiators

    10.   The Protective Male

    11.   The Command

    12.   The Golden Rod

    13.   The Mysterious Male

    14.   The Comrades Trial

    15.   The Guilty

    16.   The Traitor

    17.   The Conjurer

    18.   The Justice

    19.   The Battlefield

    20.   The Survival Instincts

    21.   The Enemy

    22.   The Plan

    23.   The Only Chance

    24.   The Rescue Team

    25.   The Captor

    26.   The Master

    27.   The Search

    28.   The Warning

    29.   The News

    30.   The Thirst for Blood

    To you, Jennifer—

    for all the laughter we’ve shared has truly been my inspiration.

    As a warrior, I am fierce.

    As a leader, I am respected.

    As an immortal, I am unpredictable…

    I am a Tempted Knight.

    Acknowledgments

    Thank you to my wonderful husband and soul mate, Damon Schmidt, for all of his help with everything from book-related events to helping around the house with kids and puppies so Mom could get a little writing time in during her busy schedule and to our amazing three sons, Randy, David, and Destin, for their endless love and support they give me, which has inspired me to share my stories with the world, and to our family and friends we have been blessed with, for their ongoing encouragement.

    Tons of love and much appreciation goes out to a natural and talented artist, my awesome mother-in-law, Sharon Poteet, for the beautiful and remarkable book cover design for Tempted Knights, and to the two best role models a girl could have, my parents—my classy father, Earl Vogt, who taught me everything I know about hunting, and my beautiful mother, Evangelist Darlene Vogt, who taught me everything I know about faith—for their unconditional love and listening ear.

    Big hugs and deepest thanks to my sister, Rochelle Gallardo, and childhood friend, Nancy Sandoval, both wonderful ladies who gave me honest feedback after getting the first glimpse into book 2 of the series, and to my personal adviser and preeditor, Jennifer Horton, for all of her hard work and being a superb mentor and trusted ally in the blooper-finding department.

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

    And last, but definitely not least, a special thank-you goes out to all the amazing Tempted Knights readers, for becoming a fan of my modern-day Knights and spreading the word.

    Thanks a bunch!

    Prologue

    1101, ITALY

    Tanterous, the village to the north of Kalamar, was left in utter ruins, the air coated with a mixture of death and smoke while homes continued blazing with wood-crackling flames reaching toward the sky. Countless bodies covered the earth everywhere.

    King Anatolio De Luca of Kalamar had led his elite army to defend these poor souls, except that we were too late. The blood drinkers had devoured this community in little time.

    Kevin, stay with me, boy, my father told me, as I followed him on horseback through the village, searching for any survivors within this carnage.

    God, what devastation lies before us, I thought, looking all around me.

    We pulled on the reins, stopping our horses when King Anatolio dismounted his midnight stallion. He knelt down on one knee beside a small body. The train of his black cloak sprawled about him in the murky soil and yet, he cared naught.

    My king’s love for his people was evidence in itself. He was the king and yet he was kneeling in the dirt, respectfully reaching over to gently close the eyes of a young boy who lay lifeless with his throat torn open. It appeared as though an animal had shredded it.

    Alas, it was an animal—a brutal one at that. No remorse for taking a human’s life, these blood drinkers walked and talked like men at night, but killed mercilessly like the wild beast they were.

    My heart cried out with anger, pain, and fear. The blood drinkers had increased in numbers, and those who tried to slay them were either killed trying—or worse, they became monsters themselves.

    Infected by a blood drinker? This was the very fate we knights feared most—a terrible fate far worse than death. A fate to become a killer of innocents was unbearable to think of—forbid one should ever accept becoming a murderer willingly.

    My father climbed off his brown steed and placed a caring hand gently upon our king’s broad shoulder. Watching my father, a loyal guard and a friend to Kalamar’s king, attempt to console the heartbroken ruler of our people, I held back with the rest of the men.

    My liege, he all but whispered to him, we shall bury the dead with a proper burial ritual this eve and put them to rest.

    The orangey glow from the fires around the village reflected on the silvery Rotolo crest stitched on the back of our king’s black cloak. With its dragon wrapping all four limbs and tail around a broad sword and vast wings spread wide, the flickering light seemed to give it life; the dragon was breathing flames for victory. The victory we all sought for this bloodshed.

    They must be… beheaded first. Our king’s voice was filled with agony. And their hearts removed.

    Of course, sire. Then with a brisk wave of his hand, my father gave the order to the men, including me.

    We all dismounted our horses and began amputating the heads of the dead—men, women, and children of all ages.

    Had I not been trained for this gruesome chore since the time of the brutal deaths of my mother and sisters, I would have been sickened to the pit of my stomach with doing such now. Wiping the recollection of that horrific day from my mind, I joined my brethren in carrying out this disturbing task. Stepping over bodies, one by one, we combed through the dead, a horrible assignment we had all done innumerable times before. No one kept count of the times we had to do this stomach-turning task. It was not something for one to pride on. It was a knight’s obligation, a stressful one, yet necessary.

    King Anatolio rose to his feet, glancing around him at all the dead villagers while his men went about their unsettling duty. Examining the bloodshed about him, his demanding voice roared with fury. These monsters must be stopped!

    Don’t lose faith, my liege, my father humbly said. In time, we shall defeat the blood drinkers.

    Although those words were meant to encourage, no man standing here felt it as that. No weapons were raised nor did war cries of our impending retribution come from the men on this day. No, hope was growing scarce with nearly all the villages in the north, south, and the west lands demolished now. And with unsuccessful attempts over the past year we, the king’s army was losing faith in prevailing anytime soon.

    Perhaps I may help.

    The soft, feminine voice from behind us startled everyone, forcing them to wheel about promptly, weapons raised. I, too, spun around ready to fight until I saw what looked like an angel from heaven standing at six foot one. Long golden braided hair hung over her right slender shoulder while a long white gown adorned her like a goddess; she was indeed the prettiest female I had ever laid eyes on. Youthful. Attractive. I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

    Although she appeared young in years, her hazel eyes containing glints of many colors exposed an old wisdom within them. I only captured but a glimpse from her, but it was enough for those enchanting eyes to pierce into my soul, stopping my heart in that moment.

    She then slid her attention on King Anatolio and my father approaching her. They stood between her and us knights as our king ordered, What name have you?

    She took a step forward only to stop when my father positioned himself to the front of our king, intentionally blocking the female from approaching him any further. I come in peace, Ruler of Kalamar. She lowered her head in a slight bow, presenting her respect for him.

    Narrowing his eyes at her in question, King Anatolio demanded, Your name, female!

    I was baffled. Why would my king ask such a thing? Clearly she was a single survivor and yet he addressed her as though she was the enemy.

    I am Princess Karza Zippora of Mysticfall Forest.

    King Anatolio crossed his arms over his armored chest with his eyes growing even tighter at her. State your reason for being here, Princess.

    I seek to be your ally against the ones who did this, she said then motioned her hand about, regarding the dead.

    At what cost, witch?

    Karza winced as if he had actually slapped her.

    Now I understood; she was a Wiccanna. Not a victim, but rather a bystander who clearly had power to help, except did nothing to stop the bloodshed.

    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 because of our Earth’s lavishing forests and vegetations.

    During earlier civilization, the newcomers were given the tribal name Wiccanna. Humans had admired these creatures’ magical abilities, and many sought to learn the art of casting spells. It wasn’t long before magical errors were made by a few Wiccannas while teaching these inexperienced and savage humans the skill of spell casting. Although Wiccannas were naturally a gentle and peaceful species, such magic they possessed overwhelmed a few. Those unable to control the lust for power succumbed to greed and began inflicting pain and suffering to others, thus bringing about their wicked nature, turning them Wicco and becoming evil forevermore.

    According to legend, some time ago during their early years on earth, a number of Wiccannas were filled with lust for the forbidden desire to rule the human realm. And their greed had turned them into Wiccos. In the midst of this wicked formidable event, greed-driven spells had been recklessly performed by humans, and warlocks were introduced into the world as well.

    Due to the negligent fault of the newcomers, naturally, humankind blamed all Wiccannas for these new evils. And from there on, it was alleged that their entire species were wicked evildoers. In view of that, Wiccannas were known to keep to themselves and their own kind, never defending normal humans—which made them come across as selfish, bitter creatures with no care for others.

    Very few believed Wiccannas even existed these days, but those from the Old Religion, like King Anatolio’s ancestors, were aware of the existence of these supernatural beings.

    But no one was more knowledgeable about Wiccannas on a more personal level better than King Anatolio himself. He knew a great deal about them and their lives, and was better informed than anyone throughout the entire kingdom due to updated reports from specially trained knights who sought out the information for him.

    Why the profound fascination with them, I never understood until now. But to this day, King Anatolio declared it was essential to know every little thing possible about anything that was not entirely human to better protect his people.

    Never having met a true Wiccanna personally myself, I was baffled at how a beautiful female such as this could impound any amount of wickedness as to allow innocents to die.

    Karza’s graceful face softened as she told King Anatolio, Dismissing your offensive remark, Ruler of Kalamar, I offer my powers to your knights to help them slay these vampires in exchange for your aid.

    He cautiously drawled, Meaning?

    I help you. You help me. Simple.

    Nothing is simple with your kind, he said sternly. To barter with one of you is not worth my first heir.

    Karza actually rolled her eyes at the king. Silly Anatolio, she said as if he were a mere peasant. I already have a babe of my very own. I need not yours.

    Low whispers and angry grumbles broke out from my king’s army; I had to catch my breath in surprise. To disrespect such a man as King Anatolio was doing a fool’s errand.

    Our king raised his hand, silencing his men, and my father drew his sword from his sheath at his side, forewarning Karza for such negligent conduct.

    To my utmost surprise, she showed no fear. A suspicious smile teased the corner of her lips. Then in a flash, it was as if a ghost had snatched my father’s sword from his hand, delivering it into hers.

    Everyone gasped in alarm and astonishment.

    If you wish to slay the vampires, you must use better weapons, she added, balancing the length of the sword in her hands, examining it like an actual warrior would. Your men are weak, slow, and can easily be influenced by vampire mind tricks.

    King Anatolio growled, removing his steel armored helmet from his head with angered swiftness. "How dare you use your witchery on my knight!"

    Ignoring his uproar, she declared, I can bestow you and all of your knights with enhanced powers and protection for the task at hand in exchange for your help in slaying a beast, which will come into existence soon. One who will hunt my people and kill them.

    Tell me why should I care what is to come about your kind.

    Because I can help you protect yours. Karza’s attention shifted to my father before meeting our king’s angry stare once more. Surely you’re not too proud a ruler to deny help in defending your people.

    That enraged King Anatolio all the more. I’ve shed my sweat, my blood, and would give my life for my people, he spat, tightly gripping the hilt of his sword attached to his waist with one hand. He held his helmet in the crook of his other arm.

    Showing no angst, the female held her ground. And for that very reason is why I have come to you before all other kings, Great Ruler of Kalamar.

    Hold your tongue! he snapped. "I need not your flattering remarks, witch. I have no need for them or your wicked behavior."

    ‘Wicked behavior?’ she questioned, sounding appalled by that. Clearly you must recognize I could kill every one of you where you stand in a blink. But I do not. Thus you should make the distinction that I am not a Wicco by that alone.

    Wicco or not, there’s always a price when bartering with any of your kind.

    She pouted her bottom lip. You assume the worst of me when I only seek for us to assist each other.

    Then tell me, Karza, King Anatolio said, raising his chin proudly, "what is the price?"

    She started closing the distance between them, and my father drew his dagger from his belt, prepared to defend our king. The instant she held her hand up, my father abruptly halted then, altering into a statue of flesh.

    King Anatolio, as with the rest of us, was stunned by her action. She possesses the power to stop time, he murmured, noticeably questioning himself with what he had just witnessed with his own brown eyes.

    Furious by this action against my father, I snatched my own sword from my belt as did the other men, prepared to slay this magical creature and awaiting our king’s command to do so.

    Why have you done this to him? King Anatolio growled at her. You earn not my trust. You are nothing above wicked when you exercise such witchery as this, he said, tossing his chin in my father’s direction.

    The female bowed before him with her hands reached outward, offering the sword hilt first in a friendly gesture. Forgive me, Ruler of Kalamar. I intended no harm. I simply prevented him from attacking me while I’m merely trying to prove my good intentions.

    My king reluctantly retrieved the sword from her hands before she backed away. And with that, my father had movement again and appeared taken aback.

    Karza gave a courteous bow of her head in deference. Again, I only request on behalf of my people for your help, Ruler of Kalamar.

    King Anatolio looked at my father who stood beside him, still giving off the impression of being mystified. My liege… ? He frowned at him. What had she done to me?

    You alone were impeded in time. He shifted the helmet in the bend of his other arm and clapped his free hand on my father’s shoulder. Are you well, my friend?

    With a brow raised at Karza, my father told our king, No harm from her magic had befallen me.

    "Please, Your Majesty, Karza interjected pleadingly. I beg of your mercy. My people need your help. I offer myself and them as allies to you. With my warriors’ handiness and my gifts given to you, we can help you slay the vampires who torment your kingdom."

    Looking around him at all the death among us, King Anatolio seemed to ponder it for a long moment before his eyes drew back on Karza. Tell me of this beast that will hunt down your kind.

    When the moon is full, a Wicco named Garthness will cast a spell on an animal in an attempt to collect my powers for his own—

    Why?

    "His magical abilities are no match for mine. It is jealousy that drives Garthness, but his greed shall disrupt the spell. The animal he will choose shall be that of a black panther, which will become a beast of its own with immense speed and power to sense every Wiccanna and Wicco magic—not just my own. It will kill many good and bad alike."

    What will be its weaknesses?

    I know not how to stop it, nor can I see into the future if your army will truly succeed. Yet I did see a glimpse of a heroic Knight battling it, which is why I come seeking your aid.

    His brows furrowed. You’re a soothsayer, one who sees into the future.

    What little I knew about Wiccannas, I had never heard of one witch having more than two powers at a time. Karza clearly had the skills to move objects with her mind and stop time in place…

    And a soothsayer too?

    Yes, she told King Anatolio. "I hold the ability of forewarning as all Wiccannians can sense danger from evil. I’m also known among my people as an oracle, and as fortune may have it for you, I’ve seen the great battles against these vampires whom you and your Knights seek to slay. Heed my words, Ruler of Kalamar, your brave warriors will prevail over in the coming years should you accept these gifts I offer you here this night."

    King Anatolio took a moment, looking about the village as if taking her offer into consideration. Then meeting the awaiting eyes of his army, he drew in a long tired breath, and finally, his gaze returned to Karza. I shall offer my help to you, but as for my elite warriors? Let it be theirs to choose to walk this path ahead with me if they so wish, for I shall not tamper with their fate.

    With a low bow of her head, Karza said, As you wish, Ruler of Kalamar.

    King Anatolio turned and glanced about his men and commanded, All who desire to join me, come forth now and stand with me. With magical supremacy, we shall slay every last blood drinker, and victory shall finally be ours.

    Loyal to their king, and with determination to fight the vampires into extinction bluntly written upon their faces, nearly all but me raised their swords, shouting their aspiration for triumph.

    While everyone was taking their place alongside King Anatolio, my father joined them and noticed me hesitate. Even though I had enough years of training under my father to become a brave warrior, a bad feeling wedged deep into the pit of my stomach. Collaborating with a Wiccanna wasn’t the problem for me; it was what Karza did next that put me at pause.

    Hold strong for this might hurt, she softly warned King Anatolio, placing her hand over the armor on his upper right arm. He suddenly winced as if in pain. Never withdrawing, even when a faint trace of smoke began to rise from beneath his armor, he stood fast, clenching his jaw tightly.

    As like every Wiccanna, Karza began in a smooth voice, every seventy years you shall age as if it were merely one. You and your sons and daughters, and their sons and daughters, and thereon shall be granted a longer life of living than normal humans so that your skillfulness will be of use for an extended time. For all those of your bloodline will be given the measured seventy-year-age gift if they accept to choose this path as you have and be branded with my gifts. But only when they reach their seventeenth year will their aging slow down.

    King Anatolio, grunting through his teeth with the muscles in his jaw taut, seemed to be in agony as the female continued. Your strength and agility shall be more than any human on earth, but only during battle against evil so that you shall never become tempted and wish to rule the earth.

    Karza closed her eyes then and began a chant in a foreign language. Tears were now trailing down Anatolio’s cheeks. The smoke began to thicken and seep out from under his armor while blood began trickling down to his forearm. All at once, his helmet dropped hastily to the ground, stirring up a cloud of dust, and my king began lowering to his knees, visibly suffering. Have mercy, he groaned from behind clenched teeth. This brought forth concern from the eyes of his men.

    As if reading our minds before my brethren and I went for our swords to stop this madness, Karza held her free hand out, stopping every one of us in midmovement. Our eyes were moving. Our ears heard all. And our lungs took in air, yet our bodies remained motionless. It was obvious that she wanted us all to hear and witness this, but was not about to have us interrupting.

    The air around us began stirring up in forceful stormlike gusts as she began saying, In the light of hope, thou darkness shall fade, over and over again.

    Blood continued dripping down King Anatolio’s arm with considerable black smoke rising. He let out a yell so profound it brought chills to my immobile body.

    Though I was stuck in a solid pose, my heart was attempting to escape my chest and pounding thunderously in my ears. Fear was taking hold over me as I watched the most powerful king I had ever known brought down to his knees and cry out in anguish. Majestic and a remarkable warrior, he had encountered countless battles and received numerous wounds during such times, but never once had anyone witnessed him shed a single tear while injured. Nor had any individual on earth ever observed King Anatolio this tormented before either.

    And no one here could stop this from continuing.

    You shall have the brainpower to refuse a vampire’s mind control, Karza told him. You shall be strong, brave, and swift, and a defender of the human race.

    Withdrawing her hand from his arm, she assisted my king to his feet and spoke as if royalty as she commanded, Rise, Anatolio De Luca Rotolo, King of Kalamar. Embrace these gifts I have bestowed upon you, for you now hold the blessings necessary to thrive in victory.

    Steadying himself, he wiped the tears with the back of his hand. He yanked off his right arm armor, pulling back the padded sleeve worn underneath the armor and grimaced at the round mark now burned into his flesh. What is this? he demanded, scowling at her.

    It provides you these powers you require to battle the vampires. If you wish, I can remove the gifts, but then our agreement will be broken.

    Studying the round black blotch on his skin, he insisted, No! I stand by my word to assist you in exchange for your aid. He looked back at her and raised his thick brow. This hurt like the devil’s bite. Is there not a painless way to receive these powers you bestow?

    Alas, she said. The mark burns deep in your flesh to mix with your blood. If a vampire or another evil creature were to learn of this, they could simply cut your limb off and you’d be as weak as any other mortal. Each symbol is essential and represents the Alliance, which you shall now be known as. The two swords crossing over each other signify honorable Knights you and your knights shall be. The two human eyes above the two swords represent you and your knights watching over all that is pure. Behind the crossing swords is a shield, symbolizing you and your knights’ protection.

    He traced his finger over the round blotch where it looked like ancient symbols charted along the inner ring. What are these odd inscriptions around the circle’s rim?

    In light of hope, thou darkness shall fade, she said. It is written in Wiccannian. It is for encouragement and inspiration for you and your warriors. More importantly, it shall shield you and your knights from mind control of any vampire and give you all remarkable strength and agility more than any human on earth possesses to move with unnatural speeds against fast-moving vampires during battle. But never forget, Ruler of Kalamar. When the battle ends, so shall the unnatural strength and speed.

    Very well then. He accepted it, his hand closing over the burned blotch on his arm, covering it. Release my men, and let them begin this passage with me.

    All of a sudden, I could move my arms and legs again, yet to my astonishment, my father freely stepped up next.

    Watching my father allow Karza to put him through the same excruciating process, I became more suspicious.

    Was this a trick of a Wiccanna with a much deeper purpose at hand here? How did King Anatolio know she wasn’t a Wicco creating an army of her own by doing this? Would we become her personal minions, mindless mortals under the spell of a powerful creature?

    Dear God, help us . . .

    With black cloaks draping off their broad armored shoulders with the identical silvery Rotolo crest stitched on the backs, each knight freely stood before Karza one at a time, receiving the magical gift burned into their upper arm. While our king stood back proudly watchful of his men, my father stood by his side. Both men seemed joyful and full of life, as if drunk with power—something I hadn’t seen them like in many years.

    Wanting desperately to trust in my king’s and my father’s willingness to be branded as if cattle, I was however the only one to not approach for the creature’s flesh burning stain.

    My father frowned at me. Come forth, boy, he urged. Be not a babe. Hold strong for the pain is bearable.

    As if that wasn’t the reason I stood back. Not in a thousand years was that what had caused my apprehension. Living for possibly a thousand years was just one of them. Being tagged like an animal by a Wiccanna was another.

    Forgive me, Father, I told him. I fear not the pain but the promise we’re offered.

    Karza held her hand up, stopping my father from lashing at me. She turned to me, and closing the distance, she said, You are youthful in your years yet. By no means would I force you or anyone else to act against your free will. If you wish to be in an alliance to stop vampires and protect the world, I only wish to assist you and your brethren.

    She paused within a foot of me and smiled like an innocent girl I feared she was not. Have you any knowledge of Wiccannians such as me, young one?

    Nervous she might strike me down with her magic, I shook my head. Not entirely, I admitted, trying to mask my frightened tone.

    She reached her hand out toward me, and on impulse, I cringed with my eyes closed, expecting the worst. It never came.

    I felt her warm touch gently stroke my face with a motherly loving caress down my cheek. Hesitant at first, I snuck a peek with my eyes barely cracked opened, only to find her smiling at me.

    What name have you been given? Her warming expression and her musical voice was bewitching and evaporating all the uneasiness and fear in me.

    Kevin Woodhawk, son of Lordship Kenneth Woodhawk.

    She withdrew her hand and asked, What year are you?

    I am at my sixteenth year since my birth, I answered proudly.

    After a moment of studying my face, she said, Son of Lordship Woodhawk, your heart is pure. Your mentality is wise. Should you accept these gifts I offer you, you shall become distinguished in time throughout the Alliance as a great leader. Your age, however, shall not slow as the others until you’ve reached your seventeenth year of life.

    She cocked her head, and her eyes squinted at me for a moment. But know this, son of Lordship Woodhawk, she added with a sympathetic tone, if you choose to embrace your destiny, although you shall be that of a justly and gracious man, you shall be tested unlike never before with the choice of slaying one you hold dear to your heart.

    As I glanced over at my father with a frown, she confessed, It will not be him.

    This made no sense to me. My mother and two younger sisters had been killed by the blood drinkers some months ago. And being the youngest among the knighthood, I had no close friends. There was not one person I could recall as being dear to my heart other than my father.

    My brows drew tight back at her. Then who shall I be forced to make a judgment to slay?

    "That is for fate to enlighten you with when the time comes, son of Lordship Woodhawk."

    Thinking back to my beautiful mother, Consilia, and two innocent sisters, Fedora and Aletta, whom I had lost, more memories came to mind.

    Yearning to become a knight like my father and his father before him, I had begged my father to teach me the skills at a very young age. After years of pleading, he had finally agreed to share his talents with me. Ever since the eighth year from the day of my birth and barely able to lift a sword, I started my training as a page. Strengthening my muscles in my bony body by wrestling and riding untamed horses, I still clearly recall using a spear and sword to learn how to fight on wooden dummies in the royal stables.

    By the time I reached my fourteenth year, and by my father’s command, I had assumed the responsibilities of a squire. I served the knights their food, attended to their horses, and cleaned their weapons and body armors. That’s how I had begun learning how to handle certain weapons.

    By my fifteenth year, my father had taught me how to master a weapon against a living person. Meeting my father stroke for stroke with the thirty-two-pound weighty sword, I had finally felt superior and delighted that I had become a man a father could be proud of.

    Then one day, rumors circulated around the castle about a rebel-planned attack on a peaceful kingdom called Allacon. Upon finally achieving the knighthood proficiency of weaponry, my father requested for me to join him and the other knights as King Anatolio De Luca led his army to assist Allacon with the threat. This afforded me the opportunity to gain experience in the battlefield.

    It was a great battle, and with our aid, it was a sheer victory for Allacon.

    Regrettably, by the time we had returned home to Kalamar, we found ours in ruins. It had been under an attack of its own; all of our families had perished, except the queen and her personal guards and servants. She had been away visiting her cousin far up north in Tallento.

    It was later that day when we discovered one survivor hiding in the dark shadows of the dungeons—but it was no human. It was a blood drinker. The demon had been trapped there by the morning’s light after feeding off the prisoners. That was the moment when we learned of the monsters of the night that had attacked Crusaldon, Kalamar’s castle.

    King Anatolio made it our mission to slay every one of those blood drinkers thereafter. Nearly sixteen months had passed now since we began hunting them down, but we only saw victory but a handful of times.

    What says you, son of Lordship Woodhawk? Karza asked, bringing me back to the present.

    Picturing my mother and two sisters in my mind’s eye, this was indeed a blessing to gain some power to seek out my own revenge for them. Therefore, with a fearless nod of my head, I lifted my arm to Karza willingly.

    And when the day comes when I am to be tested with the choice of slaying a loved one, I shall face that challenge then, I thought to myself with a newfound bravery.

    1

    A New Day

    PRESENT DAY

    A SLEEP, WHITNEY REMAINED snuggled in my arms in bed while the breeze outside whispered its cool air. Snow fell lightly like tiny feathers descending from heaven to coat the earth below. Announcing its arrival with a white blanket of fluffed icy powder, winter made itself known.

    I peered out the frosty window from where I reclined. With my back pressed up against the headboard, I held my female and observed the snow fall in silence.

    Just like each tiny snowflake, unique in its own design, everyone’s life has its differences, its changes, and its crossroads.

    Life . . .

    Such a small word. Such a large meaning.

    Life is full of uncertainties, and unless people are willing to accept what destiny has planned for them, they themselves endure much pain. Pain that refuses to release its prisoner until death finally pays a visit. Then and only then can the hostage be liberated at last from the bondage of bad choices that haunts deep down to his very soul, awaiting the last breath to be drawn.

    But as a Vigilant Knight, and an immortal, one who carries heavy guilt for unfixable decisions made years ago, every night and day I’ve regretted my very existence. And for years now, I have felt at war with fate because fate had permitted me to live forever with my grief over past fallouts echoing in my head.

    Was it self-preservation that drove me from ending my eternal suffering by driving a dagger through my toxic heart? Perhaps it would be thought that. Or perhaps it would be thought that it was simply indignity keeping me from announcing my true existence to other vampire slayers, knowing that they would have no uncertainties about ending my life for me.

    Was either one the case?

    Hell no. My survival over the past few years had been based on pure justice for a fallen comrade and payback for me, pushing me forward through life’s vast journey.

    As a Knight of the Alliance, sworn to protect the human race against deadly mystical creatures, I had lost my focal point, my battle plan. During a vampire raid five years ago, I got bitten, became infected, and the end result was the death of a younger comrade, Zachariah Rundell.

    In a raging moment I had carelessly left behind my young comrade, who was new to the field with no backup, while I chased after the well-groomed vampire who went by the name Taipan and who’d led me into a trap. Bitten, I was transformed from mortal to immortal, becoming a bloodsucker myself.

    Zach was killed. I was forever changed.

    In truth, life had ended for us both.

    Since then and even now, the regret I had to bear for my young comrade’s death would always burn in my poisoned veins forevermore. Literally.

    Life . . .

    For some, it’s merely a small four-letter word, a descriptive word used in sentences such as What’s life if you don’t live it or Live life to its fullest while you still can.

    But for someone in my position, life was an eternal thing. Hell, I had deemed it an eternal curse once upon a time, not so long ago. Because while most people would see immortality as a gift, I viewed it as my endless damnation. That was until recently.

    Fate had thrown me a curve ball, hitting me dead center in my chest with the love of a beautiful creature with waist-long light brunette hair named Whitney Johnson. Remarkable rosebud pink lips, adorable pixie nose, and striking caramel-shaded eyes with noteworthy long lashes fanning her lovely smooth cheekbones, this female with an immeasurable loving heart was known as a Wiccanna among the supernatural world.

    And she had also been identified as my Destined Female, the other half of my soul—factually, my soul mate.

    Two months ago, my mission to hunt down the well-groomed vampire Taipan had brought me to this little town in the eastern part of Colorado known as Last Chance, where I met my sweet, innocent Whitney.

    Looking down at her now resting her cheek against my chest, sleeping securely and cradled in my arms, I studied her eye movement under those closed thick, long lashes of hers while she dreamed.

    Angelo, she murmured in her sleep, stirring a little.

    I gently brushed the back of my fingers down her cheek, feeling the softness of her warm skin. Shhh… I’m here.

    Even though my bangs hung loosely down toward my temples and practically covered my view, the mixture of light and dark tones of my brown hair couldn’t hide when my sapphire eyes changed into the golden yellowish vampiric guise, nor the fangs that could emerge from my gums at will.

    And yet, despite knowing I contained tainted blood, Whitney snuggled closer against my body, falling into a deeper sleep.

    Not able to hear her pulse, I took her little hand resting on my stomach and felt her wrist with the pad of my forefinger. Reading the peaceful rate while listening to her breathing, slow and easy, and her release of a soft snore, I smiled down at her.

    I never felt more relaxed than when I was watching her during the nighttime hours, safe in my embrace, and knowing she was at peace simply because of me. I loved this female with every part of my being.

    Did I deserve this happiness after getting Zach killed? Hell no, but I couldn’t and wouldn’t deny this female her pleasure. Having me in

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