Dark Curse (Deamhan Chronicles Book 2) by Morrison Isaiyan

Author:Morrison, Isaiyan [Morrison, Isaiyan]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: Isaiyan Morrison
Published: 2015-08-10T16:00:00+00:00

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DARK CURSE. DEAMHAN CHRONICLES #2

CHAPTER TWELVE

The dark area blocked Anastasia’s Deamhan vision. She lifted her head to sniff the air, taking in the scent of mold, water, and dirt. She closed her eyes and reopened them, suspecting that her eyesight would help her. Instead the dark blocked her vision, making it hard to penetrate.

She held her hands in front of her and took a step forward, feeling the sand underneath her bare feet. She took another step then another until she felt comfortable in her stride. A warm wind singed at her face, signaling that somewhere ahead in the dark, the area was opened. Her keen sense of hearing picked up on the faint sound of fire burning. Suddenly her hands bumped into a slimy rock cropping and she turned to the left and continued on her slow, weary stride.

She was dreaming again.

She didn’t want to wake, not yet. She needed to know what the dreams meant and why they became so frequent. While walking, she comprehended everything that occurred in the past few months, especially her newfound feelings of compassion and sorrow that spread through her like wildfire. It ate at her Deamhan emotions like an incurable disease, taking back every tendency that made her what she was. Ignoring her hunger for blood and her urge to protect humans, Veronica included, wasn’t what she envisioned when she promised Lucius that she’d protect Veronica at all costs. The promise wasn’t in her best interest but following Lucius’ and obeying him was. It didn’t matter if Lucius was a Lugat and he wasn’t her sire. Lucius saved her from herself, he put his faith and trust in her, and he made her ‘feel.’

These unfamiliar feelings became less and less frequent and she felt herself returning back to normal. Lucius had changed the game. No longer was he adamant about protecting Veronica. He cared about nothing except the Pure Ones. It was Them who he followed and worshipped.

She saw a flickering light ahead and she increased her pace until it brightened the area around her. She looked back, seeing the dark and also the algae blanketing the walls. She turned back, eying a room carved into the rock and she stepped in.

The walls turned into a smooth canvas, filled with stone etched pictures of rivers and animals. In the middle of this room, she saw a medium length golden sarcophagus sitting on top of a golden bier. She didn’t understand why it was there but she knew from the extravagant tomb that whoever lay in the sarcophagus was someone of importance and she had to open it.

Anastasia gripped the edge of the lid and she pulled back with all her strength. The lid budged and eventually slid off, landing on the dirt ground in a thud that echoed through the area. Her eyes glanced over the body of a woman with short jet-black hair, golden brown wrinkled skin, and full lips. She didn’t recognize the sleeping Deamhan woman but her caustic Ramanga

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