Lord of the Vampires and The Darkest Angel and The Amazon's Curse and The Darkest Prison by Gena Showalter

Author:Gena Showalter [Showalter, Gena]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, pdf
Publisher: Harlequin

CHAPTER TWENTY

THREE DAYS. WITHIN THREE DAYS, Nicolai’s full memory was returned.

And now, holding his timepiece, he knew exactly what had happened to his parents. The Blood Sorcerer had launched a sneak attack, going for the king and queen first, allowing his monsters to ravage them. The hideous monsters from Nicolai’s nightmares, the ones he’d seen on the castle walkway and inside his bedroom.

Laila had it right. As the pair lay dying, they had cast separate spells. The queen, to send her children away. The king, to spark a need for vengeance. Both spells had bonded with him—and his timepiece. A gift from his parents. All their children had one. Even Micah, the youngest.

Micah, just a baby.

Now, twenty years had passed. Micah was a man. Unless he’d been trapped in a time standstill like Nicolai. And if he still lived.

Nicolai knew Dayn lived. Now that his memory and abilities were restored, so was his mind connection to the other blood drinker in the family. He could hear the turmoil of his brother’s thoughts. Could feel the man’s desperation.

Breena was out there, too. Rumor was, she was living with Berserkers. An impossibility. Berserkers had been wiped out long ago. So…where was she really?

And Jane…his Jane. Sometimes he could hear her as he heard Dayn. Distantly, the words and emotions muted. Don’t think about her right now. You’ll collapse.

He’d never gotten to tell his beloved siblings goodbye. Nor had he gotten to tell his parents. His father had wanted so badly to see him wed. Betrothed at the very least, and Nicolai had agreed to bind himself to someone. Only, he never had. Not really. He’d finally settled on the princess of Brokk, but he had never made a formal offer. And, oh, how his father had despaired.

While he could not give his father a bride—if he couldn’t have Jane, he would have no one—he could at last give his father the vengeance he’d used his last breath ensuring.

Nicolai knew he was not too late, for the timepiece continued to tick. When the hands stopped, then and only then would it be too late. But the hands were moving more quickly than they should have, meaning time was running out.

He would return to Elden, kill the sorcerer and claim his rightful place on the throne. Nothing would stop him. Tomorrow, he added. Nothing would stop him tomorrow. He could not bring himself to leave Laila’s tent. Not yet. This was the last place he’d seen and held Jane.

Jane.

You aren’t supposed to think about her.

Beyond the tent, he could hear the rest of the camp rousing. Footsteps pounded closer and closer and he knew it was only a matter of minutes before someone ventured inside again. He pictured the Princess Laila, as he had done before, cloaking himself in her image.

Sure enough, the tent flap rose and two guards stepped inside, awaiting orders.

“Leave this place,” he found himself saying. “Gather everything and everyone else and return home.”

“What of you, princess?”

“I’m staying. Now go.”

They bowed and exited, used to her abruptness.

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