A virgin queen determined to choose her own fate.
An ancient warrior marked by darkness.
And the king who will kill them both to keep the throne.
I was plucked from my ordinary, ho-hum life and plunked into a nightmare.
Abducted by a corrupt vampire king, I’ve gone from night classes to navigating the dangerous world of the Darkfell Clan, where the courts are a maze of deception, you test your wine before you drink it and never, ever sit with your back to a door.
They say I’m the strongest queen in a thousand years. Destined to overthrow the king and take back my kingdom. I don’t know about all that, but I know I can’t face him alone.
While he commands a legion of monsters, I’m building my own army, and while my bonded warriors are few, they love me, and together, we’ll defeat Viktor.
Or die trying.
I might be a queen, but this isn’t like any other fairytale.
What in the holy heck am I doing?
I blamed the movies. The books I’d read. My own natural curiosity about the world.
Even stuck inside this terrible place, even as desperate as things were, no part of me thought what I was doing was normal. But part of me hoped the stories were true.
Then again, I could be going crazy.
But I knew I was very much sane. I was smart enough to know I couldn’t escape my cell by myself, smart enough to know my fate, once those guards came back and dragged me from this cell. They’d kill me, just like they’d killed the rest of the girls.
Gram always told me to be smart. Mom taught me to defend myself, to always fight back, no matter the odds.
I refused to die here.
And while I couldn’t get out alone, something told me this guy—vampire—could.
Why else the heavy reinforcements on his door? Why else would the guards avoid his cell, unless they feared him?
I prided myself on making good decisions. I always weighed the pros and cons to come up with the best solution to the problem—but this was life or death—and right now, my survival hinged on me trusting a perfect stranger…one I hadn’t even seen yet…to get me out of this cell.
I just had to get him strong enough. I didn’t know if blood alone would do the trick, but it was all I had to give, so I pushed my hand further in, feeling cold air brush my fingers. I’d done my part. Now it was up to him.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” His voice was rich, deep, cultivated. Filled with doubt and hesitation. “It’s been many years since I’ve fed.”
I braced myself for pain, but instead, the warmth of his mouth closed over my finger. His tongue swirled around the tip for a second, sending a trickle of sensation down to my belly. A small breath of air escaped my mouth, as desire—at once delightful and terrifying—swept through me.
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