These Murky Hells: Bloodlust, #1

By Rosie Forest

Luna was trained to kill. She spent her entire life knowing that her purpose was to assassinate an enemy, eradicate a threat. But, once she does, something is unlocked within her. A thirst for blood, a hunger for death. As she learns more about her past and her new instincts, she realises she can't trust anyone. Not even herself. What happens when the chosen one chooses herself?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rosie Forest
• Release date: May 29, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215625170

Book preview

Prologue

Alai

Water fell from a spot in the ceiling, joining fellow soldiers in the murky puddle below it. Dirt swam through the tiny waves, young souls through the local river on a summer morning. Such childish joys were lost to us, now, in this cave filled with rot and decay. The moss spotted walls held the flickering torches that allowed us to see, moonlight breaking through the yawning entrance at the front. We had arrived yesterday, already peppering the floor with cots, blankets, paperwork- everything we could need to make it seem like we had been here for weeks.

I had never expected to live through this. Part of me had doubted we would even get this far. When every step you take is scrutinised, your life expectancy seems to dwindle by the second. But everything I had done narrowed down to this moment.

Every crime, every death, every tragedy I’d caused had been to bring her here.

Luna- with her light brown skin, her curly hair escaping its neat braid, weapons strapped to every inch of her body- appeared like a Valkyrie. I was completely at her mercy, precisely where I had always hoped to be. She treaded lightly on the cracked stones, her leather boots flicking droplets of filth off the ground. I could feel her power from here.

My men engaged with hers’, swords meeting swords, yells of fury as they realised that they stood no chance against the king’s soldiers. I pitied them, really. They thought they were here to take down the king, to fight the good fight and win back what was ours. Little did they know, Kalum had had other plans.

And those plans didn’t account for any of us getting out alive.

So, you finally found us, I said, my lips twitching in a barely concealed smirk. I had always been saddened by the fact that I would never get to know the incredible woman in front of me, I knew I had to wring out every chance from these few moments, drinking in the loss of memories we would never have the chance to make.

Are you truly surprised? she asked, and I shook my head.

You don’t have to do this, I crooned. I knew she could hear me, even above the sounds of our guards killing one another around us. Despite the sound of swords crashing, men yelling out, armour clashing against the ground. She was as focused on me as I was on her.

You know I do. Like me, she had little choice. Our lives were planned out by the king.

"I was in your position, once. A murderer on the king’s behalf. But you can escape. Come with me- stay in my bunker, call off your guards. We’ll stop him together." It wasn’t until Luna cocked her head, a look of shock flittering across her features that I knew she hadn’t figured it out yet.

"Why would I betray my king for a traitor?" On the last word, she flung her arm out. I threw myself to the side in an attempt to avoid the burst of Elutum she had sent hurdling through the air. Fire- she had tried to burn me. Had summoned it from the candles on the wall and aimed it for my heart. I had less time than I’d realised. She was going for the kill, and I could do little to stall her.

He isn’t who you think he is, Luna, I said, stumbling to my feet, desperate to say anything that would make her pause for just a small second. "He is using you. Like he did me, and the one before me. He can’t get his hands dirty." She stalked towards me, a sword hanging from her grip. Just by the way she moved, as though it were an extension of herself, I knew she had been prepped and primed. She would kill for him, just as I had done.

I drew my own weapon, the soft shine of the blade reflecting the torches that lined the walls and threw it to the floor beside me. The room reeked of blood, death, and decay. Soon, I would join the tens of dead soldiers that littered the ground. People who had died to protect me, others who had died to protect her. Little had they known, it was all futile. Nothing could have come between this, no one could have prevented it.

It was me and her.

Luna and Alai.

Until the end.

My end.

"I know. I know, Luna. I know dreams of death plague your sleep; I know you crave the feeling of a weapon in your hand. I have lived your life. I was trained just like you were, I possess gifts just like you, I was the king’s favourite. Did he tell you that? As he showered you with dresses and gold and diamonds, did he tell you he once loved me, too?" I knew I was striking a nerve. Uncertainty flashed in her eyes. It was only for a fraction of a second, but it was just as clear an image as the violence that made the amber spheres gleam.

You’re a murderer, she said, her voice soft like a velvet noose. Caressing me into a dreamless death. She swung at me, the blade coming hard and fast for my jugular. I cursed, sending shockwaves through the space between us. She stumbled backwards, and I saw my opportunity. I threw every ounce of power I had into one motion- one current that shoved her to the ground and kept her there. I lowered myself nimbly over her form, careful not to touch her. Not to get too close. My heavy frame lingered over the tip of her blade, positioning myself so that she could have her kill.

If nothing else, I wanted to grant her that one favour.

It’s addictive, I told her, my voice small enough that the words were just for us, the bloodlust. I know you’re going to kill me, and I know I can’t stop you. But once you do, once you drain the life from my body, you won’t want to stop. You’ll want to kill again, and you’ll learn to lose yourself in it. You’ll learn to love it. And you’ll lose yourself.

The last thing I saw was her arm thrusting forward, my blood spilling over the hilt of the sword, before everything went black.

Part One

Chapter One

Luna

His warm blood covered me. It ran down my hand, circling the forearm, coating my torso. It was drying on the blade, turning from the striking red to something browner, almost... warm in tone. As if the shade should be comforting, as if my mind weren’t a whirlwind of fears, with one thought particularly dominating- what have I done? Years were spent preparing me for this moment, for the time where the immaculately polished blade would pierce flesh, and the life would drain from the notorious enemy.

The traitor, whose very existence had threatened those I loved.

But no one had prepared me for what happened after. Whether I should drop my weapon and run, face the people behind me who waited, gauging for a reaction, or continue to kneel on the ground like a broken statue of a woman, weeping over a fallen lover. Only, my eyes were dry, and I couldn’t seem to draw a single sure emotion to the surface. You’ll want to kill again, and you’ll lose yourself in it, that’s what Alai had said before he’d died, his final words a warning prepared for me, and only me. He couldn’t possibly have been correct- my shaking hands and trembling thoughts couldn’t comprehend putting myself through this again. Nothing about this blood was lustful- it was pure hatred: cold and desperate.

The traitor is dead! A guard shouted from behind, The enemy has been defeated!

Before I had a chance to digest what was happening, they hoisted me into the air, holding me above their heads. castle guards gripped my arms and thighs, Alai’s men dropping their weapons and falling to their knees. It was chaotic but composed. Armoured men cheering, sounds of success flowing from one surface to the other as they carried her from the room, leaving Alai’s body to rot in the stone castle.

Even as I saw their grins and heard their victorious laughter, I couldn’t bring myself to wipe the uncertain look from my face.

Chapter Two

Luna

Amrez’ beauty was incomparable in the Summertime. The days were often long and lazy, with people flocking from all over the continent just to catch a glimpse of our scenery. Of the fields dominated by a kaleidoscope of Black Eyed Susans, Begonia, and Clematis. Of the rivers that ran crystal clear through the city centre, and the way the sun pierced through the stained-glass windows of the castle, making them glisten like crystals. The castle perched atop the crest of a hill and, below, the streets of the city bustled quietly in the evening sun. Vendors and families parading the streets to make a living. Through the flowers, one could see the rows upon rows of houses, the large structure of a factory, the steeple of a scantly visited church. But, today, the people crammed into our small city for another reason. Thousands of people all travelling here, to catch a glimpse of... me. To celebrate the death I had caused, the blood on my hands. With Alai out of the picture, now nothing more than a rotting corpse beneath the ground, they assumed that there was nothing left to fear. There was little doubt that today would be just the first in a long season of balls and feasts, all to celebrate the death of a traitor. I watched peach-coloured flowers sway in the summer breeze as an army of servants worked their magic; feeling hands pulling my corset tight, raising my arms as the skirt was pulled over my head. Normally, I would never have worn such an elegant dress, but the king wanted perfection. No, he demanded it, and that included me. I had to have the skills of the perfect assassin, with the graces and appearance of a perfect lady. The women around me flurried like restless snowdrops in the air; out of control, sticking to her. They dragged rouge covered brushes over my high cheekbones, coloured my lips, drew kohl lines from the corners of my brown eyes. I merely continued to watch the flowers and the way the translucent curtains fluttered, wishing I were out there instead.

Take a look, one of them said. Turning my head to the mirror that hung upon the wall, I saw what they did. The epitome of grace. The dress was long and flowing, layers upon layers of baby-pink chiffon that looked gorgeous against my light-brown complexion. Cherry-blossom flowers ran down the bodice, some of them dropping onto the brim of the mostly plain skirt. The dress was long enough that it lightly brushed the floor, but not so long that I wouldn’t be able to dance in it. I knew that the white, stiletto heels were to thank for that. At least I’ll be almost as tall as Jax, I thought, running a hand through my tawny, spiralled hair. They had left it out, only twisting a ribbon through the front. I looked radiant. And it felt entirely wrong. Before that night, I had loved such garments and colours: pink and diamonds, flowers and fine jewellery. It had been engrained into me from a young age- these were the finest things in life, and I needed them. I continued to stand as still as marble while they finished readying me for a night that I was neither ready, nor waiting for. The dress became blurred around the edges, as though it were an illusion cast upon me.

Before long, the white double doors opened and Jax walked in. He looked as handsome as ever in a three-piece suit. Where I was light, he was darkness. Everything aside from the peony-toned handkerchief in his pocket and the white shirt was black, the low tones complementing his ivory skin. His short black hair had been slicked back, his tie perfectly centred. He was grace, the one man every woman in the court sought to wed. They may have wanted him, but I had him. He was like a prize, a trophy, one that I treasured daily.

Though I couldn’t understand why Amrez’ most eligible bachelor had chosen an assassin for a fiancée, I didn’t question it. Not verbally, at least.

My love, he said, taking my hand in his. He leaned forward, brushing a soft kiss onto my cheek.

No! One of the servants said, swatting him away with the back of her hand, you will ruin her makeup. He didn’t look at her, didn’t even flinch.

She could be completely barefaced, and still the most beautiful woman in the room. I grinned at him, knowing just how much that answer would anger the women surrounding us.

I believe I am ready, I said, addressing them directly, I should like a moment with my fiancé, please. Every head lowered as they nodded, before filing out of the room altogether.

You are a nuisance, I told him, letting him help me off the small platform I had been standing on.

Some would say it’s my most charming quality.

"I say that, you fool. And that’s only because I love chaos."

I would come up with a quick-witted retort, but you’re a national treasure now. I must treat you with respect should I like to keep my head, Jax replied, the banter lighting a glint in his eyes. Before I could stop it, the humour fell from my face, images of Alai’s body seeming to infiltrate my mind. This happened, now- every so often, I couldn’t help but see him, broken and bloodied on the ground at my hand.

Are you okay? he asked, reaching out to cup my cheek with his large hand. I shook my head, emptying it of any and all thoughts, before mustering up the most convincing smile possible.

Simply dreading a night of feasting, dancing, and talking to sinfully boring people.

It’s bold of you to assume that’ll end after tonight. You’re a hero now, Luna. Embrace it. I wanted to. But I couldn’t figure out what held me back from the unbridled joy everyone else seemed to feel.

Come, or we’ll be late, I said. He held his arm out, wrapped my hand around his forearm, feeling the muscle beneath the suit. As we walked to the ballroom, I took in the faces of those around me. Not a soul seemed to share my lack of enjoyment.

The castle was beautiful, the very image of grandiose. The walls made from cool, grey stones, not a single crack in site. Huge chamber doors breaking off to different wings, grand staircases leading us up and down the different floors. On almost every dresser or end table sat a devastatingly beautiful bouquet of flowers, composed by the florist who visited daily, with flowers plucked from the fields outside. Candles peppered the walls, ready to be lit when the sun ducked below the horizon. After some time, Jax and I were met with the mahogany doors that opened into the ballroom, which was certainly decorated lavishly. Jax leaned over, murmuring something into a guard’s ear, before turning towards me once more.

Ready? he asked, grasping my hand in his.

Don’t let me fall, I said, only half-joking. He leaned down, nudging his nose against my temple.

Never, Jax promised. When the doors opened, we stepped forward together, into the glow of sunlight.

Servants and decorators had completely transformed this room- anyone looking at it wouldn’t have known it was celebrating death. Ivory hung from the ceiling, fluttering softly in the breeze that came through the windows. A fountain sat in the middle, depicting a mermaid upon a rock, her mouth open, mid-song, her hair flowing around her. People stood around, some on the balcony, others on the ground floor, holding glasses of white wine and champagne. Celebratory drinks. Servers carried such flutes around on reflective trays, offering one to whoever’s hand was empty. Canapes were offered, too- as were slices of cake, sweet offerings to dull the sour undertones of this event.

Ah, there she is! the familiar voice said, and I looked towards the two thrones. Upon the structure was the king, who had stood with open arms to greet me. The king could be seen as a handsome man- with his beard black and speckled with greying strands, his hair miraculously intact, and his black suit which contrasted starkly against his topaz skin.

Beside him sat the queen, whose throne was far superior in beauty. And, either side of them, sat Kaitlin and Cole. Their children, and heirs to the throne. I had grown up with them- me learning how to kill, them learning how to rule a kingdom. At his father’s side, Cole offered me a small smile, Kaitlin inclining her head in greeting.

The belle of the ball, the reason we are here to celebrate! She has slain our foe and saved all our lives. Hundreds of heads turned to me, applause rising from the crowd. I gripped Jax tighter, unable to stop myself from sinking into him. The attention, the praise- I wanted to enjoy it. To feel the happiness that everyone else clearly felt. And yet, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was wrong, unnatural. I hoped they didn’t notice my uneasiness, and that the smile I plastered across my features was convincing enough.

Now the guest of honour has arrived, her majesty said, it is time to dance! She clapped her hands and, at once, the band began to play, a soft melody that encouraged movement in the very soul of partygoers. Jax began to lead me to the centre, where couples had begun to embrace one another.

I’m in no mood for dancing, I told him, trying to pull away from him.

Then perhaps I just need to convince you. I knew that this was what was expected of me. Everyone assumed that I would dance and be merry. I twirled and stepped, holding Jax tightly, as though he were the only thing anchoring me to this ground.

Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight? he asked, his voice low in my ear. His breath tickled my neck, his hands hot against my hips.

You have, I said, craning my neck, but it doesn’t hurt to hear it more than once. He moved his head, lips trailing across my jaw.

You look absolutely beautiful in that dress, Luna, he said, placing a gentle kiss against the corner of my mouth. I turned my head, resisting the urge to pull him closer and never let go. Instead, I caught his lips, dragging him into a slow kiss, my arms tightening around his neck. For a moment, just a small second, everything else melted away. The guilt, the people around us. That was, until he pulled away. I grinned when I saw my lipstick smudged against his mouth, loosening my grip on his neck just enough so that I could run my thumb over his lip, taking the rouge from him.

There, I said, perfectly presentable. Jax sighed, his gaze somewhat longing.

"I prefer you when you’re not presentable," he said. I laughed, shaking my head. This is the easy part, I reminded myself. Being here with Jax; you love him. It’s later you need to worry about. I had no idea how right I had been about that. When the song ended and Jax pulled away, a different hand touched my shoulder, the owner clearing his throat.

Might I have this dance? He asked, extending his hand. I briefly looked at Jax, who nodded in encouragement.

She’s all yours, good sir. Just make sure you return her in working order, he said, dropping a wink before walking away. The stranger extended our linked hands, his other falling onto my hip. I could tell he was trying to be respectful, to keep his distance just enough to not be a threat to Jax. Men will always look out for other men, I thought, mechanically moving through the steps of the most basic waltz. The man was not unattractive. His blonde hair fell in small waves across his forehead, his stature large and clearly well-built beneath his suit. I could have been stuck with worse, and I had no doubt that this would be one of the better obligatory dances of the evening.

I wanted to extend my gratitude, he said, if it weren’t for you, we would all be stuck in a constant state of fear. None of us knew what that heathen was going to do next, and we were all afraid for our lives. You saved us from that. So- thank you. My chest tightened, and I was sure my face had fallen. But I pulled together the best smile I could, inclining my head slightly.

I would do anything to protect my king and his subjects, I said, remembering the suggested responses I had rehearsed before the ball. The royal advisor, as perfect and poised as ever in a grey-skirted suit, had sat me down earlier this morning over breakfast. Through orange juice and croissants, she had laid out every plan, making it clear what I should expect from the night. I’d been in a daydream for most of it, unable to put together a coherent thought through the fog in my mind. Some of it must have stuck, though, since I seemed to remember at least some of the responses.

The kingdom is indebted to you, Miss Luna, he said, his voice not wavering once. It briefly occurred to me that I hadn’t even asked his name, but the truth was: I didn’t care. He’d never seek me out again, and I had no interest in recreating this little moment he thought we were having. Instead, I merely moved my feet the way I would be expected to, offering small smiles every so often, until the song eventually came to close. I pulled away, his arms dropping dead beside him.

Thank you for the dance, I said, dropping into a swift curtsey. He returned the gesture with a bow before his eyes shifted to a figure behind me.

Back in working order, as promised, he said, and I felt Jax’s hands on my shoulders.

Thank you, have a lovely evening, Jax said, his voice radiating the sure formality mine lacked. I spun to face him.

I’m going to get a drink, I said, gesturing to one of the many stands that were scattered precariously around the ballroom.

Leaving so soon? I missed you, he said, trying to pull me into an embrace. I moved easily out of his grasp, watching as his features fell ever so slightly. Anyone else wouldn’t have noticed it, but the newly formed divot between his brows was as obvious as the sun to me. He’ll enjoy himself more if you’re not bringing him down, I reminded myself.

It’s just a drink, I’ll return momentarily. I brushed my fingertips along his arm as I walked away. I could feel Jax’s eyes burrowing into my back as I got closer to the drinks stand, but I didn’t care. It was only natural for a fiancé to want to look over the person they cared about. I was just glad he was doing it from a distance. I picked up one of the champagne flutes, savouring the way the alcohol loosened my clenched muscles, relaxing the smile that had been forced for so long. I felt ill at ease, as though every sense I had spent decades honing were betraying me.

Luna? A feminine voice asked. I jumped slightly, the glass hitting my upper tooth as I scrambled to put