Throne of Blood by Amber Cook

Author:Amber Cook [Cook, Amber]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-12-20T06:00:00+00:00

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Darkened blood oozed from her temple and nose. She could no longer feel her forearms, nor could she feel her shins. When she finally began to regain consciousness, Adira was hesitant to look at her body. She could not make out her pasty skin. All she could see was darkened blood covering her body, thick chunks of flesh mingled throughout it. When she reached her trembling fingertips down to her shin, she nearly gagged. It was an understatement even to say there was flesh left on her legs. All she could feel was bone.

The first thing that slammed into her was excruciating pain in her stomach. She doubled over, grimacing as the pain swelled and intensified. It felt as if her intestines were being shredded apart. She knew what it was. It was their hunger. They wanted to eat and, if they could not feast on somebody else, they would feast on her.

The Orbs were creatures she had no control over, but they orchestrated her every move. Adira's sole purpose was to live and die for them. But, her body was already dying. The only way to prevent the Orbs from killing her was by consuming humans and demons' souls. The blood that flowed from their veins to the Orbs was enough to satisfy them, but for only a short period of time.

With her body torn apart, hanging together by thin pieces of flesh, she was weak. She didn't have enough life flow even to keep herself conscious. How could she satisfy the hunger of the Orbs? She could feel the gnawing hunger, swelling in her stomach like a balloon. It was stifling, causing the world around her to be nothing more than a blur of splotches of colors.

When her eyes finally opened, struggling to pry themselves apart from the blood that coated her lashes, Adira nearly vomited at the sight of her body. She had seen herself torn and pulled apart many times, but never to such a degree. Strands of her calf muscle lay on the ground beside where she limply sat, and her forearms were skinned to the bone. The ground beneath her body was saturated with her blackened blood, and there was the putrid smell of rot.

The moment her eyes had peeled open, the mare beside her began to stir. Her eyes widened, spinning so that her face was towards Adira to watch her movements. Her head was lowered, waiting for Adira to move, but she could barely lift her eyes. The man was sitting on a log, using the support of the tree behind him to keep himself upright. His eyes were closed, and the fire before him cast light into the hollows of his face. It made his cold exterior softer, but every time she looked at his face, she imagined that cruel and wicked laugh that had come from his lips. At least now, drifting away into the false safety of sleep, he seemed softer. If things were different, Adira might have even thought he was charming.

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