Noosha’s POV I am looking at Conrad in downright disbelief. If the bell-end weren’t as sexy as he is, I would kill him on sight. He let Marcellus, that little dickhead run away. He slipped out of my claws again. “Conrad, tell me, why should I spare your life? I have left you for just a few seconds with trull’s spawn, and he escaped from you! You are a fucking joke!” I gritted through my teeth as I pinched the bridge of my nose, breathing in and out to calm my nerves. I cannot afford to lose my cool now. Because of the agenda, Yordanreen and all the other things I invested into this bigger-than-a-life plan. Too many things are at stake here, and I need as much of a loyal fight force as possible to get rid of the dirty old bastard who sits on the throne of Wengarthria. So, Conrad is as sharp as a marble, but hey…he is a good fighter and a great shag. So, although I can imagine myself shredding him into pieces with my magic for letting Marcellus run away, I need to find as much self-c
Kandreah’s POV Sanguineabyss is a vast subrealm within Wengarthria. So big that it could be a realm in its own right. Mud and blood are squelching beneath our feet. Its name is warranted by all means. Sanguine means blood in Latin. And this shithole really looks like an abyss of blood. The sky above us is a horizon saturated with ruby and crimson tones, reminding me of bloodied curtains of some perverse shit show while the smell of blood is flowing through all of my senses. I could live without blood for a long time as long as I have a regular influx of necromancy within me. The energy of death has a bizarre effect on me. It keeps me alive. My warriors, on the other hand, at least those faes who do not have necromancy elements within, are dependent on blood to survive. During the past few battles, they had more than enough opportunities to quench their thirst, to the disgust of non-vampiric warriors in the alliance. So, given the bloodbath we caused in conquered subrealms of Wengart
Marcellus POV“Well, I’ll take it that you can explain my presence here,” I said while sitting at the table. Given that I am not a man of many words, it is a huge step forward to have me start a conversation. This is only because of these cinnamon buns. Gosh, these look and smell amazing. I feel like I haven’t eaten for weeks. And then I started to load them mercilessly, stuffing my face with two at once. “Well, I’ll take it that even in Wengarthria, you have some manners. If not among the lowly demons, one would expect at least royalty to have some manners.” as the blonde bloke said this, the stupid bun stuck in my throat, and I almost choked. Man, give me a break. I hadn’t eaten for weeks, and even if I was full, these buns were so amazing that I would demolish them anyway.“I reckon that even in Wengarthria, you would at least introduce yourself before you devour the whole table in front of yourself, like some evil fucking vacuum cleaner from the underworld.” the blonde bloke is n
Meena’s POVI am plunged into a boundless, infinite field of mint with subtle hints of cedar, sandalwood and musk. I was snug as a bug in a rug while I swayed and rolled within its rich and intense aroma. The robust frame of my mate, the demon, one of the ruling deities of the underworld, is savagely pressed against my body, engulfing and embracing us with his fire and magic. He pinned my hands above my head, holding me in one place. However, one of the most powerful, fiendish and fearsome demons of the Soovare realm is not a fierce warrior, mage and telepath now. In front of me is an enflamed bulk of muscles, a devil’s embodiment with the look of an angel. The steel grey eyes are protruding into my soul with their intensity. His warm breath on my skin is about to cause my core to combust and melt as I cannot endure more anticipation. He is driving me into preorgasmic madness while taking his sweet time to tantalise every inch of my skin, leaving the wet trails where his tongue swirle
Meena’s POV I have decided to diffuse the tension by confusing everyone. So, it is my turn to play by the ear and cut the tension between the two. I am so happy that things are improving now with Marcellus, and I will not allow Merlius to rain on my parade. I understand he is protective of us and has fatherly feelings for us. I am also aware that he thinks that Marcellus’ presence here presents a safety issue for all of us and that our chances of being discovered here are higher. But he could try to be less hostile and belligerent, at least for this short time while we will have him here for the sake of fatherly love that he claims to have towards me, if not for anything else. But this seems unlikely as I look at Merlius, who glares and growls at unfazed Marcellus. Nope, they don’t look like they will patch up their differences. And nope, I am not going to allow nor accept this. Especially not now when I finally see the light at the end of the tunnel in my relationship with my mate.
Meena’s POVHe inhaled my scent and closed his eyes. He let my hands go and touched my cheeks gingerly as he continued to trail down my face carefully like he was an artist who painted on canvas. Wherever his fingers trailed, I felt my skin was burning and about to crack open under his touch. His touch was warm yet light like a feather, causing tingles of pleasure and gooseflesh to ripple throughout my body and hit me right down to my core. He then pressed his soft, warm, ripened and edible lips against mine while gently rubbing, licking and teasing mine, asking for access to deepen our kiss. He tasted like mint, fresh and alluring yet warm, wet and soft. His minty body scent mixed with sandalwood cedar and musk saturated all my senses. An unwilling moan escaped from my mouth as I surrendered to desire, which pulsated through every atom of my essence. No, this is not lust. This is greater than desire. This is a pure thrill and bliss caused by innocent and divine, outworldly love. Thi
Noosha’s POV“What do you mean, Moonlight curse? This is what killed my Larissa. It is about mating with firstborn children of Selene’s and Endymion’s lineage.” I said while listening to Elantria telling me what happened in Nerzelis. Meanwhile, Marcellus, a little spawn of a devil, was lying on the floor, naked as a newborn with charcoal black mist in his eyes. He was blabbering something in Latin and looked completely possessed. I could see the smidgens of Chaister's chaos magic in the mist that filled his eyes. That’s strange. Well, whatever, I don’t care. Gosh, I hate this little bastard. He looks like a spitting image of Hades. That makes my anger, hatred, detest and disgust towards him even greater. “Wait, you said Moonlight curse? Are you sure that the girl you saw was Aralyn?” I asked her while thinking what the hell had happened in there. I have been looking for this girl since Moon Dog killed my daughter. If she was indeed my long-lost granddaughter and if this son of a bi
Malleteagan‘s POV We had no time to dwell on the horror that we just witnessed. One second, we witnessed the silence that balefully draped across the crater of Sanguineabyss following the death of fae twin kings. The next second, we were besieged by a coven of blood witches mingled with the melee of beasts, demons and warriors. They were looking down at us from the embankment of Sanguineabyss’ crater while we were at its bottom base, filled with blood. Blood was running through every inch of Sanguineabyss as if the sky and ground in here were made of a vascular system with its own constant influx and flow of blood. We were trapped. Following the deaths of Thersar and Kandreah, I was left alone with a battalion of over 60000 warriors: my warriors, dwarves and freshly distraught vampiric, dark and light faes who had just lost their rulers. And I was meant to lead the battle with them. I mean, Nexelex is still here, and despite his small stature, he proved to be a damn good warrior and
Elantra’s POV I was unable to bear this tension, danger and peril as I watched the cold steel of the blade pressed against Malie's skin and her life hanging on a thread, depending on the whim and mercy of mercurial vampiric Fae. With determination, I spoke out: "King Kandreah, I, Elantra Proserpina Morterey of Wengarthria, am hereby granting you permission to enter the main Macabantran encampment and any of the subrealms of Wengarthria, which are under my jurisdiction! I have done what you asked for, now leave my sister alone”. As I uttered those words, I heard Malie crying out a desperate “no” to me. I could see the relief, hope and determination surge in his eyes as he realised he had been invited. Without a shred of hesitation, he turned around with an obvious intention to leave both of us as if nothing happened, as we meant nothing to him. He obviously didn’t give a damn about us or about the mate bond. We were liter
Elantra’s POV What is your name, love?” he asked me with a palpable rage and an undertone of mockery in his voice. “Elantra,” I responded obediently as if I were the little girl in front of the executioner and not a daughter of the lord of Hell. I knew that the knife on Malie’s throat was a promise that he would kill her on the spot if I didn’t comply. Yes, Malie can be a handful, but she is my twin sister and soulmate, and it would break my heart if something happened to her. I love her, and I want her to live regardless of her being a bitch most of the time. "That is too long for my liking. Ella…darling, I wanted to share something with you and your sister…. Ooh, sorry love, I didn’t quite catch your name…” He smirked and turned his golden-eyed gaze to Malie. She told him to fuck off while struggling in his embrace, trying to set herself free. He whispered something to her ear so quickly and under his breath that I couldn’t even catch what he said despite my c
Elantra’s POV Malie nagged me to visit the battlefield for days, telling me she had found her mate. It was useless to remind her that we Mortereys have little to no chance of finding a mate. I have told her that she is delusional, but when she wants something, there is no way to set her mind off that. And now she had one goal - to visit Macabantrah and test the mate theory out, and for some reason, she is adamant that she want to go there with me. I don’t know what this all was really about: did she want to test the waters of mate bond? Did she want to convince me or herself that this is possible and that maybe she really found a mate? Whatever the reason, I could see that she was consumed and perhaps even excited with the idea. I mean, who could blame her; we spent eternity doing our “job” as dark celestials, daughters of rulers of Hell and Wengarthrian royals. I don’t blame her for wanting some sense of normalcy and to break this millennia old cycle of loneliness. But I als
Kandreah’s POV When I saw Hades’s twin daughters together, I finally understood what people think when they say they can’t see the difference between me and my brother. These two look like doppelgängers! They were as alike as two peas in a pod, and both looked exactly like the woman my warriors described to be seen during the Sanguineabbys and Konneyard battles. Both had ash blond hair smeared with subtle shimmers of lilac - as if they spent all day rolling and rubbing in the field of lavender in full bloom to achieve this hue in their hair. They had those same daunting eyes: one lilac eye like Noosha and one cobalt blue like Hades. Both were as slender as a whippet and had faces that could launch a thousand ships, but their aura stank worse than a fish market on a scorching summer's day. They radiated wickedness, danger, and spite like a pair of black cats crossing your path under a ladder, setting my skin crawling like someone tossed a bucket of spiders on me. To te
Kandreah’s POV While standing helplessly in front of the Macabantran gates, I went through all the stages of grief in the blink of an eye. I went through denial when I managed to work through my pain and drag myself while being pain-stricken with Thersar’s torment in front of the Macabantran gate. I was appalled with horror in front of my eyes. As Thersar’s demise-ridden pain wrecked through every nerve of my body, I watched his last moments with disbelief. Just when I thought that this was the final blow, which would be my undoing, the closeness of my soldiers who died in the battle started to shatter my body inside out, gnawing at my mind and soul. The death of every single soldier in my army was a new blow to my already broken body and heart. After initial shock, denial and disbelief, uncontrollable rage erupted from me. I screamed and tried many ways to break in and barge into the castle, but nothing worked. Even what it meant to be an attention-seeking roar of rage came
Kandreah’s POV We were passing through this infamous shortcut, which was more like a sewage-like labyrinth if you ask me, when I bent over and stumbled with an unwilling groan before I fell on my knees and stubbed my hands into the dirt and mud of Wengarthria. I felt so weak and dizzy, as if I was just seconds away from collapsing. The high-pitched, blaring sound grated through my ears, threatening to split my head in half. It reminded me of the ringing of life-supporting machines when someone dies, but as if someone put amplifiers on them. Beads of sweat protruded along with searing pain, the ache like no other which surged through me, piercing and rippling through my body. Every drop of blood in my body felt like it was scorching, sizzling, and as if it was about to combust in flames before turning to ashes. The agony was unbearable. It felt like I was dying. Only once before, I felt the pain like this, when I lost my soulmate. Regardless of the severed bond between
Erzelus’s POV But it looked like someone in the background had greater control over the forsaken Lycans than I did because drums rattled again in the next moment, along with a command rumbling to forsaken Lycans to attack. It overpowered and overrode the natural inclination of forsaken Lycans to submit to their Alpha. I am not their Alpha anymore. They do not answer to me anymore. They are not part of our pack anymore, and if there was even a smidgen of doubt in their logic, reasoning and where their loyalty now lies, it all became clear when they started attacking Lycan troops. My Lycans were over-excited with my comeback, and this idling is not something we can afford. This can cost us battles and lives; we have no time for this. Because, on the other side of the castle, dwarves, Fae, and witches were still in the ruckus of the battle against Wengarthrians. I stepped in while handholding Lev and roared: “Drop the fucking formalities! Lycans, regroup! Flank the Allies! Shield the
Erzelus’s POV The interior of the encampment was a vast, oval-shaped, dark and massive hall the size of a coliseum. Instead of walls, the encampment was enclosed with grand window-like structures, which seemed impenetrable. These window-like walls didn’t allow even a figment of light to protrude. Each window was adorned with vile and despicable frescoes depicting the destruction, apocalyptic violence and scenes from the underworld. In every corner of this eerie city-sized castle, there seemed to be an attempt at creating a macabre amphitheatre. It was as if a disturbed and malevolent architect had deliberately sought to challenge, mock, distort, and contrast every conventional thought, philosophy, aesthetic, and norms in rational thought, art, architecture, and culture, transforming them into something dark, ominous, and bizarre. This colossal castle seemed like an erratic response of a sinister rebel in architecture, a hub for defying the traditional building. Every corn
Erzelus’s POV Mark's contorted body serves as a testament to his tragic death and grim fate, symbolising just one of too many lives that have been and will continue to be lost in this relentless battle. The weight of lives lost became heavier as I scanned through limbless, scavenged, deformed and mutilated remnants of warriors from both sides, which hung from the ceilings. The cadavers blanketed the grotesque frescoes and icons of the Macabantran encampment. Bodies were strewn everywhere, suspended from ceilings and windows, littering the ground— that is the grave extent of casualties that this battle yielded. And many more are to yet die before the battle finishes. The windows were sprayed with blood and innards of diverse creatures who lost their lives, looking like someone had a paintball battle with leftovers of burnt shepherd pie. Corpses and bodies of soldiers from every walk of life were flailing across the Macabantran fort; mush and gore were everywhere, littering th