Spring's Vampires. Blooms of Blood: A Reverse Harem Fantasy Romance (Soulmates of Seasons Book 4) by Eva Brandt

Author:Eva Brandt [Brandt, Eva]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Eva Brandt
Published: 2019-05-30T05:00:00+00:00

Having seen Queen Theros—Tarasia—engaged in her own ritual of strengthening the wards, I’d thought I’d been prepared for witnessing the moment when the four sisters all came together to connect with the core of their homeland. Having witnessed numerous rituals cast by the Grand Lich in The Voievodat, I’d thought I’d known what to expect. I was both right and wrong.

The four queens of the seasons gathered in a circle that mimicked the shape of Chronikos. They didn’t bother with intricate engravings or chants of any type. Instead they just knelt, held hands, and bowed lowly, pressing their foreheads against the ground.

For a few seconds, nothing happened—or so it seemed. Even if I didn’t have Adrian’s affinity for magic, I could sense the ground beneath my feet vibrate, responding to the touch of the four queens, eager to come to their aid.

The wind started blowing through the orchards, thick with the magic of each season. The perfumed breeze of spring mingled with the slightly chillier autumn wind, and winter’s icy blizzard clashed with the hot currents of air that summer brought forth.

As the four sisters all lifted their heads, a whirlwind of flower petals, fallen leaves, and snowflakes, surrounded their bodies. It came together in the center of their circle, where a bright light was already forming, mimicking the shape and location of the Axis Mundi.

The savage, intense beauty of the sight could only be matched by its cruelty. Even tamed, the power of the seasons was not kind, and when the four sisters were together, it was stronger than ever before.

Cassia’s lips were quickly beginning to turn blue due to frostbite. Tarasia’s skin looked burnt and inflamed. The ground beneath Pandora was starting to change substance, and it almost looked like it would swallow her whole.

Their obvious suffering would’ve been more than enough to take me aback, but it was Eranthe who truly worried me. The roses in her hair grew thorny stems, and the sharp tips crawled over her body, digging into her flesh. The scent of her blood filled the air, sweet, sharp, screaming with anguish and fear.

I wanted to rush to her aid, and I almost did exactly that. Adrian grabbed my arm before I could make a horrible mistake. “You can’t interrupt,” he snapped at me. “If any of us step in right now, we’d ruin the whole ritual.”

“Eranthe trusted us to be present here and not intervene,” Baltasar said darkly. “We can’t fail her.”

They were right, and I shouldn’t have needed the reminder when I was well aware of the stakes. But recent events had shaken me so much that I’d apparently forgotten even the most basic precautions involved in ritual magic.

I’d thought I’d known who the Grand Lich was. I’d cared about the mysterious shadowy figure, in a sort of distant uncle kind of way. To find out that he had been a version of my soulmate was staggering.

Eiar had mentioned that she wasn’t the original Grand Lich, but to my shame, I couldn’t recall a time when the Grand Lich had been any different.

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