Blood Fiends' Bane: Book 1 of the Vampire Queen Saga by William Stacey

Author:William Stacey [Stacey, William]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Bastard Sword Press
Published: 2016-05-10T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 25

Modwyn

Modwyn stood before Serina, his pulse matching the excitement in his fevered mind. She’s alive! It’s worked!

It had seemed impossible, but there she was before him, nonetheless. When the three men had pulled off the last of the withered corpses, revealing her—still young and beautiful, as if she had merely gone to sleep—he knew his plans had worked. Despite having been trapped in that cavern for forty-eight years, she hadn’t aged a day—and she never would. She’d remain young and beautiful forever—as would he once she rewarded him for freeing her and gave him her gift.

Clearly, she had been trapped when Belion, having no other choice, broke his own staff, causing the cave-in that collapsed the entrance. With no source of fresh blood, she had fallen into a coma-like sleep. The boy’s blood had brought her back, waking her from forty-eight years of nightmare-inducing dreams. All his life, he had studied blood fiends in a futile attempt to be like her, but her godly condition couldn’t be duplicated by mortals. He realized that only she, the master, could pass on her gift and create more immortal beings.

Her long blond hair was pulled back tightly, tied in braids, in the Fenyir style, interwoven with gems and talismans. A series of elaborate blue tattoos covered the entire upper half of her face. Her eyes—the color of blood—were so beautiful, so otherworldly. As she stared at him in challenge, his heart skipped a beat. The tales of her beauty had been incomplete, unsatisfactory. She wasn’t merely a beautiful woman—she was a goddess. She leaned back upon her elbows atop the pile of dead and then wiped one forearm against her mouth, smearing the blood across her perfect features.

“Who are you?” she asked, with the clipped accent of his true people.

Modwyn fell to his knees, as did Idwal and his brother, Hywal. “Your servant, majesty,” Modwyn answered. “Modwyn Du’Greywynne. I am your great-nephew.”

She stared at him blankly with those beautiful dark eyes for several long moments before finally answering. “I don’t have a great-nephew, but there was a boy, my brother’s bastard son. He lived on Felorin Island. Perwin, Perwin Du’Greywynne his name was.”

“My father,” Modwyn answered.

Her eyes tightened. “But you have the accent of a mainlander.”

“It… it wasn’t safe after the war for anyone with Greywynne blood,” Modwyn said. “They called you a traitor, killed anyone even remotely connected to your bloodline.”

“It’s truth, my queen,” said Idwal, speaking for the first time.

Nodding, she offered her hand to Modwyn, who took it—forcing himself not to snatch it back when he felt the chill of her flesh. He helped her to her feet. Idwal rushed forward to help as well. Hywal remained on his knees, his head down, shivering in terror.

“So how is it then that you are alive, great-nephew?” she asked.

“My parents ran, hid on the mainland, and changed their name. I was born far from these islands, far from my true people. I only ever knew of you from tales my parents told me, but we’ve always remained loyal, always.

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