Almost Sin: Volume Iii

By Andrea Cunningham

Two womenOne fights for love
The otherfor revenge

For thirteen years, Victoria Thomas has sought to destroy the man who betrayed her. Stricken with grief, and with a heavy dose of insanity, she will stop at nothing until Alric Thomas is dead. He was once her brother, but now hes an enemy more despised than any other, and Victoria sets a trap that will soon have Alric within her reach. But an unexpected twist of fate directs her attention to Brittainy Papillon, the passionate, determined elf princess, who works to uproot her plans by protecting the very man Victoria has vowed to destroy.

Plagued with guilt, and with a past that haunts him, Alric Thomas, bounty hunter of Goosnargh (the land of vampires) is running for his life. Literally. And falling in love with the beautiful Brittainy Papillon was not part of his plan. He can offer her nothing but danger in return for his love, but Alric is faced with a choice: he must either shield her from the dangerous demons of his past, or find a way to live without her.

Three years have passed since Brittainy Papillon, princess of Mantolpiah, the land of elves, thought herself to forever be rid of the vicious breed of demons who call themselves vampires. That is, until the bold, handsome warrior, Alric Thomas, abruptly entered her peaceful world and disrupted her guarded heart the way no man has dared. Brittainy and Alric are quickly thrown into an epic battle between two powerful adversaries, which will not only put their courage to the test, but their love, as well.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: May 16, 2014
• ISBN: 9781499019179

Andrea Cunningham

Happily adjusting to living in a small, quiet town in north-central Missouri, author Andrea Cunningham lives with her family and four endearing pets, who have supported her obsession and love for writing since she sat down to write her first novel, Almost Night, which was released in July 2013. Andrea has been writing short stories and poems since childhood, and has always yearned to fulfill her destiny by becoming a successful paranormal romance author. Her one hope is that others will enjoy reading her work as much as she enjoys writing it.

Book preview

Almost Sin

Volume III

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Andrea Cunningham

Copyright © 2014 by Andrea Cunningham.

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: 05/13/2014

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris LLC

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CONTENTS

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Twenty

Twenty-One

Twenty-Two

Twenty-Three

Twenty-Four

Twenty-Five

Twenty-Six

Twenty-Seven

Twenty-Eight

Twenty-Nine

Thirty

Thirty-One

Prologue

Brittainy pushed her head back to collide with his hands. Alric, I barely know you. We are strangers. This isn’t the way of my people. Her eyes were dark and wanting, her fingers moving up and down the long length of his back in an erotic motion that made Alric hard in all the right places. We… shouldn’t be here. Her voice was low and seductive. Her lips parted to meet his mouth with demand. She kissed him again, again, and again. Her hands moved to his shoulders, then trailed around to touch his chest, then ever so slowly down the length of his stomach. Alric… Brittainy moaned into his mouth. We can’t. And then she parted her knees, allowing him inside, where he quickly grabbed her ass and wrapped her legs around his waist. We shouldn’t.

We can, he countered deeply. And we will.

With much gratitude to my wonderful editor, Bonnie Myhrum, whose hard work and support have never faltered, and for steering me in the right direction when I tend to veer off course. I am eternally grateful.

To my team at Xlibris, thank you for your enthusiasm and eagerness to help make my dreams come true. You guys rock!

A special thanks to Rachel Snooks for her stunning photography and keen eye.

To Ben Pierce, who has done such a marvelous job on my cover art.

And last, but definitely not least, thank you God, for giving me this wonderful gift that I may pursue my passion in this life you have blessed me with, that I may inspire and entertain others with my love for writing, and for bestowing upon me a very… intense imagination.

To my sister. Still in my arms, always in my heart.

Books by Andrea Cunningham

ALMOST NIGHT

ALMOST DAWN

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www.amazon.com

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ONE

Goosnargh, The Land of Vampires

Thirteen years ago

H E WAS GETTING closer; he could feel it. The wind was changing… cooling. His skin recognized the crisp, ocean air the moment it brushed across his face, causing his hair to stray outside the firm knot he had tied at the nape of his neck. He could almost see the shoreline from Arthepos; he could nearly taste the salty sea water and feel the smooth, white beads of sand under his feet. He longed to sink to his knees in the shallow water and wait for the tide to splash up against his stomach. His body trembled to feel the cool ripples he remembered from his childhood cleanse the ripe blood from his hands and soul.

The ocean had a way of doing that, erasing his mind and consciousness of all the sins that lay dormant in his past and future. Every time he finished with a mission, he was eager to return here.

However, that was not the reason he had come today.

Because for this one rare moment, his loyalty to those above him, the sworn oath he had taken many, many years ago to protect his land and people, forced his mission to take place here.

Rothsgar was one of the many cities in Goosnargh, one of the few places in vampire country that wasn’t completely stripped of its beauty and natural habitat. It was a land of violence and war, as were all cities in Goosnargh, but it was also a place of rare peace and tranquility, with all the tropical sensations that came with the ocean and beach. And for Alric Thomas, a servant of the High Anarchy, a vampire warrior and bounty hunter, it was home.

Squinting his eyes to see through long strands of jet-black hair, Alric leaned over into the saddle horn to brush his hand across the endless tangles of his mare’s mane. He breathed slowly, inhaling the sporadic flavors of spring, water, immortality, and fear.

Yes, he was definitely close, now. A few more minutes and he would be riding back into his home town, a place he had known and cherished since the first night he arose as a vampire.

Let’s finish this. He whispered to his mare, squeezing her middle with powerful legs that soon had them flying across Arthepos and into Rothsgar with unmatchable speed.

Alric entered the quiet city like a prince returning home after years of fighting war in a different land. Slowly, he trotted through the open gate that had fallen off its hinges and was now lying in an abandoned patch of forgotten weeds and grass. He continued down the broken stone path that wound deeper into the city. The houses looked the same as before: small clay huts with wooden doors that provided far better shelter for the cluster of rats and mice than for the vampires who lived there. Most of the buildings were small and old, some destroyed by war and fire, while others were no more than a hole in the ground with tree branches for a roof.

There was no beauty alive in this town, but the brisk scent of water and seaweed slammed hard into him, quickly reminding Alric of the true beauty hidden behind the city of Rothsgar, a happier place that, much like the decaying buildings and rotting fences, would never change.

The air even smelled the same; nothing at all appeared to be different. Not that he should be surprised. It had only been a little over a year since he had last been home. Not much could change in one year’s time.

But then again, he wouldn’t be here if that were true.

Ignoring the sudden swell of guilt rising in his gut, Alric continued down the stone path until the winding trail led him out of town, to where a nearby forest lay shortly ahead. He ordered his horse to continue through the forest until the timber became too thick to ride any farther. He stole a quick look around him before reluctantly sliding off his mare and tying the reins to one of the thousand trees surrounding one massive side of the ocean.

As he breathed in the familiar traces of water and sand, Alric’s gut twisted tighter. It was nearly unbearable, but he was used to dealing with regret. As a vampire warrior, duty and shame often walked hand-in-hand, like a never-ending curse that would surely haunt him for eternity.

Duty . . . he thought with a snarl. It was duty that would destroy his honor and devotion in only a few short moments, which would swiftly be upon him.

But he wouldn’t think about that now.

He had a job to do, and his duty always came first, even over flesh and blood.

Alric took another quick surveillance of his surroundings before stepping forward into the cluttered timber. He wasn’t trying to be quiet, so he crushed twigs and smashed leaves and earth under heavy boots and quick steps, his heart steady as a river, his wide, feverish eyes fixed and prepared for the oncoming night, as well as the promise of carrying out his… duty.

When he reached the edge of the timber, the refreshing scent of water slammed into him again, nearly knocking him backward, but he kept moving forward until he exited the timber and reached the wide, vacant shoreline that had once been his back yard as a child.

The air felt crisp and invigorating, warm and healing. It was his sole purpose for coming here every time his hands were stained with blood. It was a place of peace and contemplation. A place to let go of his worries and to succumb to the quiet, more civil way of life, if there was such a thing for a vampire.

Alric stood there motionless for a few long moments, breathing, praying, enjoying…

Because after tonight, he knew he could never return here.

A small, timid voice broke him from his trance. A female voice he knew and cherished above all other sounds.

Alric, is that you?

Alric hesitated, the knot in his stomach twisting even tighter until he clenched his hands into fists to keep himself steady. He didn’t want to turn around; he would do anything but turn around and face her – his sister, his twin, the one and only woman he cared about in a world of millions.

Alric? She called again, the wind carrying her voice even closer.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Alric finally turned to face her. The night was dark and the trees provided plenty of shadows to deny the female vampire the full justice of her beauty. But like him, her hair was long and straight, like a jet-black river that nearly reached her waist. Her eyes were soft and wide, a gentle fire burning far back in the round, feverish depths of both stunning sockets. She was tall, not six feet like himself, but she was taller than most women. And their Cherokee heritage was strikingly obvious: high cheekbones, slightly flared nose, dark, bronzed skin, and a slim, although strong build.

The woman was beautiful, and not entirely incompetent with a sword in her hand. Alric had made damned certain of that. Since he devoted his life to serving the High Anarchy, he spent his leisure time sparing with his sister. They had no other family; there was no one else to protect her while Alric was off doing battle or on one of his bounty missions. And he would be damned if he would leave her alone and completely defenseless.

Victoria, Alric said slowly, turning around to completely face his twin. It’s been too long.

Victoria wasted no time in throwing her arms around his neck. She hugged him for what seemed like hours, but then slowly separated herself as if letting go caused her pain. I’m so glad you’re safe. I never stop worrying until you return home. Her eyes were bright and sincere, which pained him all the more to look at her.

Alric turned to the side, averting his eyes from his raw guilt. I would have come sooner if you hadn’t waited so long to contact me.

I’ve never interrupted one of your bounty missions before. I didn’t want to now, but I had no one else to turn to. Victoria lowered her head as if in shame.

And perhaps she was right in doing so.

Liberating and concealing a prisoner who belonged to the king of vampires could only mean pain and eventually death for all who were involved. And his sister was, regrettably, more than involved.

The prisoner, John Delaney, was Victoria’s mate, a man who doomed his life to the gallows the moment he refused Zeke Argonimas, High Fiend and ruler of Goosnargh, the land title of his home. It wasn’t, by far, anything to start a war over, but Zeke had plans of using that particular acreage for farm ground, as it had richer soil than any other land in Goosnargh. And Zeke had even been willing to offer land in other parts of the county to compensate for John’s troubles, a highly generous proposal, considering the vampire king’s rare acts of fairness. But like a fool, John had denied the High Fiend’s offer, and when Zeke was forced to take the land by assault, John had killed three of his personal soldiers and put fire to the fields and crops.

Now, John was a fugitive, a man convicted of murder and treason, who had somehow convinced Victoria into hiding him from accepting his punishment. And like a bigger fool, John expected Victoria and Alric to fight Zeke’s entire vampire army, while he hid in the timber to save his unworthy ass.

It was pathetic, sickening beyond belief that his sister would mate herself to such a spineless coward with less worth than the dirt beneath his boots. Alric had never been shy with his disdain for John Delaney, and he had expressed his disappointment numerous times to his sister, but Victoria was a proud and stubborn woman. She believed she was in love with the moronic pest, and there was nothing Alric could say to change her mind.

Alric just looked at her; he wanted to wrap his arms around her and pretend that everything was going to be all right.

But it wasn’t.

He couldn’t make this mess go away. Fact was fact. There was no sugar-

coating reality.

John Delaney was going to die, and Victoria was going to hate him for the rest of her life.

Alric stepped forward and reached out to touch her. He held her chin between steady fingers and lifted her head up to look at him. Have you lost your mind, Victoria? Zeke is not a man to fool with. Trust me, he won’t think twice about plunging a dagger through your pretty head.

A tear threatened to fall from her concerned eyes, but she quickly closed them before one could escape. I know that, Alric. I’m not stupid.

Then why would you even meddle in the High Fiend’s affairs, let alone conceal one of his prisoners? When dealing with his sister, Alric was usually good at keeping his temper at a lull, but he was beyond irritated, beyond annoyed, and beyond scared for her life. He didn’t give a damn about John Delaney; his fate would serve him well, but he couldn’t bear to see Victoria harmed.

But her punishment wasn’t up to him. All he could do was pray for mercy. Which was all but hopeless when it came to dealing with Zeke Argonimas.

Victoria shrugged loose from his hold. Her voice rose, her tone sounding more defensive than before. Because I love him, Alric. Will you ever understand that?

No. Alric nearly shouted, narrowing his eyes out of frustration. Love is merely a joke if John’s feeling for you is the example I have to go by.

Victoria pushed her lips together in a hard line, her hands rising to her hips out of defiance. You don’t know him like I do. She swiftly turned to face the undisturbed ocean, but then halted in her tracks. If you don’t want to help me, I’ll understand. I hold you to no promise. Her back was facing him, but Alric could almost see the tears fleeing her eyes as if she were still looking at him.

Lowering his gaze to the sandy beach, as if averting his eyes could ease the shame building in his gut, Alric breathed out a heavy sigh before he walked up to stand behind her. He lifted his hand to rest on her shoulder and spoke more softly. I will always do what’s best for you, my love. This is why I’ve come back, why I’m here.

She turned around and smiled. She had misinterpreted his meaning, just as he knew she would. She was satisfied by his answer, but Alric was not at all proud or delighted to have deceived her. He hadn’t lied to her; his true intentions were to protect her and to keep her safe; but she would soon learn of his other intentions, the real reason for his being here and the truth behind his… duty.

Victoria took his hand and began leading him along the beach at a swift pace. Her stride was long, her footsteps determined, her breathing steady, but there was no way of missing the faint trembling of her fingers as she dug her nails into the back of his hand. He couldn’t see her eyes, but he knew they were glossy from tears and reservation. She was doubting herself, running the entire situation through her mind like she should have done long before now. Only now, it was too late.

Where are we going? Alric demanded from behind her, his bright, yellow eyes switching back and forth from left to right, his hands itching to feel the steel blade of his sword in his hands. Where’s John?

We’re almost there. Victoria said, her voice a little shaken as if the short trail had left her breathless. And just when Alric was about to halt from his patience wearing thin, Victoria stopped in her tracks and let go of his hand. She looked back at him with trusting eyes of yellow and orange flames that burned deeply into his chest – his heart – forcing the bile in his throat to taste even more bitter.

She turned and looked toward the shoreline, her eyes lingering on a large, hollow log that was stuck in the sand nearly fifteen feet ahead. The shallow tide steadily washed up against the decaying tree that was submerged in wet moss and cool ripples, along with another figure that Alric couldn’t quite recognize. But then the figure stood up and started to walk toward them.

Alric swallowed a foul curse as he watched John Delaney walk up to his sister and stretch forth both shackled arms in the attempt to touch her. He looked every bit the damned soul Alric knew that he was.

John was tall, lanky, and thin, much too thin. His eyes were a chocolate brown that held their color even in full darkness. His clothes were torn and ripped in numerous places. Traces of blood spilled into the air, on his pale skin and tattered clothing, and multiple bruises covered his face and arms to complete the perfect stereotype of a prisoner. He was pathetic to look at, and if he had been any other vampire, Alric would have felt sorry for him.

Victoria, my love; I’m so glad to see you. John bent down to kiss her, a sly motion that sent Alric’s temper into full throttle.

Alric’s eyes blazed with a mixture of yellow and orange heat. His hand automatically lowered to his sword and his voice turned rough and offensive. Enough! He shouted, causing both Victoria and John to jerk at his startling tone.

Alric looked at both of them in disgust, but then his eyes locked on John. This never would have happened if you had the wisdom to know what’s good for you. Alric stepped forward, his voice sinking even deeper with revulsion. I have let you live this long only because of my sister’s appalling infatuation. But don’t press your luck, vampire. Alric reached out to remove John’s arms from around Victoria. The High Anarchy expects me to slaughter cowardly demons such as yourself. And it would be a real pleasure to kill you, Delaney. He thrust John’s arm away, forcing the weaker vampire to stumble in the uneven sand.

Victoria yelled in protest. Alric, stop it! She turned to stab him with a glare of resentment. I never asked for your approval. After you help us escape Rothsgar, you will never have to see us again. Her tone was upsetting, but her words burned like sandpaper on raw skin. Partially because Alric wanted to deny that his sister cared about saving her lousy husband more than her own life. And partially because he wanted to believe all the years they spent together, his opinion, and brotherly love would mean more to her than acting as if he were a stranger, or even worse, an enemy. But mostly because Alric knew it was of no use to hope. It was futile to attempt to change her mind, and he wasn’t even certain he still wanted to. It was too late for that.

I’m sorry you feel that way, Victoria. You leave me no other choice. Alric could have hid the pain in his eyes, he could have felt remorse and regret instead of betrayal, and he could have refused this mission and walked away guilt-free and with clean hands, but it was too late for that, as well.

His hand went for his sword, and with one fluid motion, Alric drew the long, steel blade from its scabbard and lifted it high above his head. The length of his hair blew across his face like a sleek, midnight river, his eyes burned with heat and fire, brightening into golden beams of yellow and orange flames. His fangs lengthened in the process, two sharp points dripping with liquid venom, both willing and ready for blood.

No! Alric, no! Victoria screamed, her own fangs lengthening as she flung herself forward and latched onto his shirt. You can’t harm him. She pleaded, digging her nails so tightly into his shirt that the fabric began to taper into long white shreds.

Let’s get the hell out of here, Victoria! John yelled, his gaunt figure already turning around and jogging toward the timber.

Alric took one look at the fleeing vampire and literally hissed with anger. Then he turned to regard his sister as if he had just now noticed her nails raking into his arms. I’m sorry Victoria, but John sealed his fate the moment he refused the High Fiend’s command.

No, I don’t believe that. Victoria’s bright eyes burned with desperation. We can escape Rothsgar. With your help, we can be out of Goosnargh before morning.

Alric sucked in a deep breath, his eyes daring to dart toward the ground, but he held firm to his sister’s gaze. It’s too late.

Why? What do you… Her words trailed off at the sound of pounding hoof prints.

Alric turned to watch a small army of vampires riding in their direction. Ten large and lethal men draped in long black cloaks and with heavy armor rode with violent anticipation, while raising their swords in the air as if they were sparring with the wind.

No! Victoria screamed, latching onto his arm even tighter. We have to get out of here! She tugged on his shirt again, Alric! We have to leave; they’ll kill us! She tugged again, digging her nails deeper into his flesh, but Alric ignored the pain. He held firm to his sword and wrapped one arm around Victoria’s shoulder for what little comfort he could offer.

Two speeding horses flew past them, sinking knee-deep in the tide as both minions cornered John against the decaying tree, and finished accessorizing him with more silver shackles around his neck and legs, which forced Alric to cringe with something very close to sympathy.

Victoria was quick to jerk toward her distressed mate, but Alric was even quicker to grab her arm and pull her back into him. There was no time to scowl at her stupidity, for his attention was abruptly diverted to the eight tall minions who circled them, and the obvious leader, who was slowly breaking away from the group.

Zeke Argonimas looked every bit the king of vampires, every bit the most powerful and feared demon in the world, every bit wicked with two blazing, crimson eyes that burned nearly as hot as any flame. His hair was long and straight, thick strips of blonde weights that tumbled over large shoulders and separated on either side of his face. Even when dressed in a floor-length robe, his obvious size was intimidating. Stark, regal power flooded his features, along with a familiar perturbed energy that most vampires learned to expect from their king.

Zeke spared an abrupt glance toward Alric, but swiftly turned to regard his two minions. Bring me the prisoner! His rough voice shouted in pure thunder.

And in mere seconds, both minions had hauled John back to the awaiting group of vampires, where they literally threw his weakening body into the legs of Zeke’s wild and uneasy stallion.

John yelped in pain as the horse nervously stomped about him, both missing and hitting his body in a series of angry kicks.

John! Victoria screamed again, this time breaking free from Alric’s hold and rushing toward her mate in a frantic hurry. But she took only a half step before Zeke drew his sword and pierced her with a devastating glare.

If I were you, girl, I would be more concerned with your own life. His frigid tone deepened, vibrating the entire sides of the beach in one short moment, which forced the female vampire to halt in her tracks.

Alric tensed with worry. He instinctively tightened his grip on his sword, his eyes turning to regard the High Fiend with a mixture of animosity and respect, a mutual feeling for most vampire warriors who didn’t know whether to bow, or to draw their weapons upon greeting the ruthless demon.

My lord, Alric started, taking a careful step forward. You have your prisoner. Allow my sister to go free and I vow she will never step foot into Arthepos again.

Zeke was silent for a moment, his shimmering red eyes locked entirely on Alric. Your sister has committed treason, Thomas. She must be punished. His voice pounded with fury, but there was a slight edge of amusement daring to show, forcing the knot twisting in Alric’s gut to tighten even harder.

Alric took another step forward, quickly reaching Victoria, but he dared not touch her. He breathed slowly, regretfully loosening the grip on his sword in a gesture of peace. She will earn her punishment upon watching her mate’s death, my king.

No! Victoria foolishly screamed again, this time jerking past Alric until she was on the ground beside John. Her fangs lengthened as she hovered above the injured vampire, who was lying very still at the High Fiend’s feet. I won’t let you kill him!

Alric could have slapped her for being so foolish. Zeke was not the sort of man to show sympathy or mercy toward anyone, let alone a demon convicted of treason and a woman who resorted to groveling. He would see it as a weakness, an amusing game where only he knew the rules. And as sure as the oncoming night, Alric’s desperation for mercy was rapidly fading into hopelessness.

Zeke’s eyes could have burned a hole through the ground. Those wicked red sockets sent daggers of fire shooting into the sand and around the ecstatic vampire. He continued to glare at her, while yelling at his minions in a demanding tone that chilled the very air. Tie her to a horse and gag her if she makes another sound.

Victoria latched onto John, but the injured demon was no match for Zeke’s brutal minion. One very tall, very burly vampire was quick to reach Victoria’s side and wasted no time on tearing her apart from John.

Alric followed the minion’s every move with a silent urge to slide his sword through the vampire’s throat for so much as touching his sister, but with great reservation, he sucked in a deep breath and slowly counted to five before speaking. My lord please, I beg of you not to harm her.

Zeke looked back to regard Alric, a fire rising in the red depths of his eyes that could very easily pass for something evil. Your sister will serve me well in Arthepos until she has repaid me for every field and every crop that her mate has destroyed. She’s certainly beautiful enough to recompense during the long hours of the night, and if she works just as hard during the day, she will be released in no time. The wicked smile was back, lifting the corners of his masculine face in a startling sneer.

Alric could have killed him right then upon hearing his unspeakable intentions. But his thoughts of violence and anger were swiftly diverted when the vampire king continued his speech.

I give you my word that I will not harm her, but only because you have done so well, Thomas. You have succeeded in leading us directly to the prisoner, as I knew you would. You are a good soldier, Alric; the High Anarchy is fortunate to have your services.

What? Victoria’s voice rose with disbelief. Alric, is what he says true? She was tied to a horse not far away, her eyes displaying doubt and fear. Did you betray us? Her voice softened to barely above a whisper, her body standing very still as she stared at him.

Alric looked down, his eyes striving to hold back the tears that threatened to burst with his shame. He breathed heavily, his heart sinking lower in his chest with every second that passed.

Alric… Victoria whispered again, Tell me it’s not true.

Alric squeezed the hilt of his sword, desperately wanting to be rid of his guilt. But instead, he slowly lifted his head to finally look at her. "It’s true. I was on my way here when I received your letter. This was my mission, Victoria: to find John and to reveal his whereabouts to Zeke."

Victoria shook her head in disbelief, but her eyes shed tears of realization. I don’t believe you. How could you do this to us… to me? Her voice was shaky and muffled, her eyes swollen with tears and heartache.

Alric took a step forward and lifted his arms as if surrendering to an enemy. I’m sorry. There was no other way.

You bastard. She breathed in anger, her features taking a sudden twist on the side of fury. You traitor! she spat with venom.

Sick laughter suddenly entered the air, and Alric was forced to turn toward Zeke. The High Fiend was leaning forward, his arms folded and resting on his saddle horn in a position of relaxation, his face curved into a deviant sneer that nearly sent Alric toppling over the edge of anger. My apologies, Alric; but I simply couldn’t resist the amusing irony of the situation.

Alric couldn’t help but to lift his sword, as did all off Zeke’s minions, who were now pointing their weapons directly at his barely beating heart.

Zeke raised one large, gloved hand, halting his minions in their attempt to protect him. It’s time to finish this, Alric; I have more important matters awaiting me in Arthepos. Zeke’s casual tone was carried out by a too serious gaze that felt like little prickles stabbing Alric everywhere on his body.

Execute the prisoner. Zeke commanded.

No! Victoria screamed in a panic. My lord, please no. Alric, don’t do this. Please don’t do this. Her voice was muted by a piece of cloth suddenly wrapped around her mouth, sealing away her pleas and cries of mercy.

But Alric could still hear them; they rang louder and louder in his head, never ceasing, never stopping, never fading.

He hung his head low and squeezed the hilt of his massive sword, praying that in time, perhaps one day Victoria would understand the need for his betrayal. Forgive me, my love. He murmured quietly to the ground, speaking solely to his sister, his twin, the only woman he had ever loved in two hundred years.

Ignoring the cries and shouts of his sister, Alric walked to stand beside John Delaney and grabbed him by the back of his neck. The vampire’s head shot back and his chocolate eyes burned deeply through his soul, silently cursing him to the grave. But Alric stood like the warrior he truly was, determined and unaffected by the pleas of his enemies.

And there, on innocent ground, bathed with salty sea water and the tears of his sister, Alric lifted his sword to sever through flesh and bone, as well as his own heart.

TWO

Mantolpiah, The Land of Elves

Present time

S MALL BEADS OF sweat rolled down his back and the taste of salt coated his tongue as he licked his lips dry of the water draining from his forehead.

Alric Thomas’s muscles ached, partially because it was midday, and every moment he remained under the sun he could feel his strength dissolving by the minute. But it wasn’t the afternoon heat that readily drained his body; it was the long, tiring hours he had endured in the timber, tearing down endless beaver dams, which was a complete waste of time. He had barely gotten the damn thing destroyed before the pesky animals were building it back up again. It was pointless, Alric realized with an exhausted snarl. But he’d be damned if he confessed his displeasure to Nathaniel Papillon.

The King of Mantolpiah wasn’t exactly the sort of man to whom he could make excuses. His flaring temper was unpredictable, and Alric knew he would receive far more bearable punishment from the blazing heat and the never-ending explosions that were probably damaging his hearing, than he would if he refused an order from the temperamental and easily peeved elf king.

It had been three years since the rise of the werewolves. Three years since he had received eager orders to ride into Mantolpiah and to help defend the elves from the demented werewolf king, Daemon Ronchetto. But now, three years had gone by and Alric was still here, still living in the beautiful land of elves, and still waiting to receive new orders from the High Anarchy.

But they never came.

The only word he had been given was to remain in Mantolpiah and serve under Gideon Lancaster, a military general and one of the leaders belonging to the Anarchy, until further notice.

The past three years had been purgatory, hell even. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy spending time with his new allies and living off their extremely fruitful land, but his heart was growing restless.

Vampires weren’t meant to settle in one place for so long. It wasn’t natural. And for Alric it was even more uncanny.

He was a warrior, a brutal fighter with extensive combat training who thrived on war and carnage as much as he thirsted for blood. But even