 by Sheridan Anne.jpg)
Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 94834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Murder. Betrayal. Undisputable power.
A sacrifice to be given.
An innocent life to be lost.
He made the solemn vow.
The flesh of my flesh will perish in flames,
but the blood will forever reign.
-------
All I wanted was a new life, a fresh start in Faders Bay.
But fate hadn’t written my name in the stars, it was written in cold, murderous blood.
Zade. Sawyer. Dalton. Cross.
They wanted something from me—they wanted my heart.
Literally carved right out of my chest.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
0ZADE
Prologue
The burning smell of rotten flesh assaults my senses as my father’s body goes up in flames, the blood of The Circle surrounding his burning corpse. I step up, taking what was once my father’s position at the head of our society, my gaze shifting around the dark tomb. Pillars circle the ancient room, the resting place of the countless Empire heirs who have ruled before me.
The flames flicker, casting long shadows across the polished stone and over the emotionless faces of The Circle members watching me through dead, expressionless eyes, their long black cloaks as equally fucked up as this whole ritual.
I’ve always hated these bastards. They’re The Circle, the assholes who lay claim to my Empire, who believe they govern what will be mine. They’re nothing without me, and now that my father’s body burns at their feet, I’ll step up as their leader—the only rightful heir.
Outside of this room, this society, they’re nothing but ordinary people—judges, police, politicians—but they harbor dark secrets, all of which will now rest on my shoulders, giving me the power to destroy each one of them.
With thick smoke billowing to the roof, I get the ritual underway. Raising the dagger, I place the ancient blade in the palm of my hand before closing my fingers around its intricate, gothic design, the eyes of The Circle locked on me. Tension builds in the tomb. The send-off of a blood heir is one of our most sacred rituals. If I fuck this up, I could be dead beside the bastard. But they won’t dare. Maybe thirty or forty years ago, they would have had what it takes to end me, but I’m too strong, too relentless, too fast. I’m untouchable, and every fucker in the room knows it—even my father knew it. Hell, he sure as fuck knew it when I dragged my blade across his throat. Though these fuckers don’t need to know that.
Squeezing my hand around the blade, I feel its sharp bite digging into my skin, and I stretch my arm out, watching as my blood—the blood of the new leader—stains my father’s burning flesh. “The flesh of my flesh will perish in flames, but the blood will forever reign.”
As one, The Circle repeats my words, their murmured chants chilling me to the bone. “The flesh of my flesh will perish in flames, but the blood will forever reign. The flesh of my flesh will perish in flames, but the blood will forever reign. The flesh of my flesh will perish in flames, but the blood will forever reign.”
My blood continues dripping over my father’s corpse, the flames blistering my skin, but I don’t stop or pull back until their final words have been spoken. Only then do I lift my gaze to The Circle and lower my hand, the sacred blade clattering to the ground as I release my grip on the dagger, blood running down my fingers and dripping by my feet.
“It is done,” I announce. “The reign of my father, Lawson Michael DeVil the Third, has ceased, and I, Zade Alexander DeVil, stand before you, as the heir of the founding Circle, and proclaim my intention to rise in my father’s wake and claim what is rightfully mine as the only true heir of Empire.”
Each member of The Circle bows their head, their hands coming together at their chests. As one, they speak. “Your intentions have been acknowledged.”
I watch them carefully. This culty-ritual bullshit really isn’t my style, or probably any of theirs, but back when Empire was built from the ground up, this shit would have been seen as a privilege, as power. Now, it’s nothing short of fucked up, but it’s these kinds of fucked-up traditions that have kept us going.
The flames roar, quickly sucking the oxygen out of the small tomb, but we still have one more part to go. The initiation.
Anticipation burns in my chest. Only those of The Circle know what the initiation entails. It’s not one of those secrets passed down from father to son, but a challenge presented to the new initiate to test his determination and loyalty to the cause. It is said to bind the ruling heir to Empire and ensure a lifetime of servitude to our people, something my father always described as an honor. To me, it sounds like a load of horseshit, probably something they’ll be able to use against me if I ever decide to walk away. But that won’t be happening. I’ve waited too long for this, watched my father hold a type of power over the world he never deserved or even knew how to use. Such wasted potential.