Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 115860 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115860 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Chapter
One
Caden
“We’re fucked.”
Bram Rion’s words echo through his palatial study as he slams the door, the sound as final as a coffin lid.
I snort. No shit, Sherlock. Merlin’s golden-boy grandson is two weeks late to that particular party.
Perched on the edge of a bottle-green armchair, I watch him lock us in. Gone is the Hollywood smile, replaced by a mask of grim determination that matches the rest of the Doomsday Brethren. The air crackles with tension, thick enough to choke on.
Lucan’s absence is a raw wound. My brother should be here, standing tall with this ragtag band of magical misfits. Instead, he’s chained to a bed, wrestling with death itself.
Please let his torment end soon.
A loud crash upstairs thumps the ceiling and shakes the walls, putting the rest of the Doomsday Brethren on edge.
In the distance, a woman screams, terror bleeding in every note. Upstairs, a door crashes open. Her shrieks grow louder. Footsteps pound above me. She’s running down the stairs.
Damn it. She’s fleeing.
Tearing out of the library, I race to intercept the shrieking witch, ignoring Bram’s shout calling me back. I grab the frantic blonde. Her wide, green eyes are frightened, as if she’s been playing a game of chicken with a barreling freight train. Despite the fact she’s probably over two hundred years old, she looks deceptively young.
“Wait. Please,” I beg. “My brother—”
“I’m sorry. I can’t help him.” Her voice breaks. “He’s a beast, big and feral, and…and he snarled that I smell of another wizard before he ripped free from his ch-chains and lunged for my throat.”
Bloody hell. No wonder she’s quaking. But she’s the fifth energy surrogate Lucan has sent fleeing in a fortnight—and supposedly the toughest. What the fuck am I supposed to do now?
Bram’s sister, Sabelle, appears at the top of the stairs, her lace shirt torn, golden hair a wild tangle. Yet she’s surprisingly steady. “I’ve contained Lucan. You can release her.”
Shaking my head, I clasp the witch tighter. “Lucan needs her. Without the energy she generates…”
The words die in my throat, choking me with their implications.
“He’ll die. I know.” Sabelle’s calm facade cracks, revealing the anguish beneath. “Anka's absence has driven him mad with grief. Aunt Millie says she’s never seen mate mourning this severe. It’s like his soul is being ripped apart.”
More terrible news. Where’s the bloody light at the end of the tunnel? Sabelle, at Bram’s behest, dragged me away from my peaceful life in Dallas two weeks ago; the hell hasn’t let up since. Frustration eats at my gut like acid. I can’t fail Lucan. Years ago, I was unable to save my younger brother from magic gone horribly wrong. I’ll be damned if I let my older one die, too.
“Since Lucan refuses to take the energy from these witches to survive, how does he have enough strength to fight them?”
“Primal rage,” Sabelle supplies. “When the surrogates come, they unwittingly bring traces of their other clients. Because all of Lucan’s senses have shut down except smell, he’s convinced other wizards are attacking him. Of course it’s a delusion, but he’ll defend himself—to the death. He’s not coherent enough to explain otherwise.”
“Maybe…it’s time to consider that, with Anka gone, he wants death,” Bram murmurs behind me.
I whirl in fury. What sort of friend even thinks that? I held the hands of fallen comrades in far-flung deserts around the world and prayed for their recovery, even as some rattled their last breath.
“My brother cannot die like this. He will not! I intend to find Anka and bring her back.”
“It may be too late, and the witch can’t help.” Bram bobs his chin toward the scared surrogate in my grip. “Let her go.”
“Please,” the blonde pleads with a sniffle.
The urge to destroy something, to punch through walls, to curse magic for decimating my life again, burns through me. But the witch in my grasp shrinks back, terror in her eyes. She sees me as another monster.
For the millionth fucking time since setting foot back in England, I damn magic to hell.
To a human, losing a beloved wife would be devastating. For Lucan, it’s reduced a brilliant wizard to a feral beast. The thing chained to Bram’s guest bed is no longer the older brother I once idolized.
Guilt sears through me. I abandoned this world—disavowed magic and everyone in it—a dozen years ago. Now I might lose my only remaining family to this nightmare. The thought of never speaking to Lucan again guts me.
I have to find Anka, to return her to Lucan’s arms. Nothing else matters. Nothing else will cure him.
Swallowing my snarl, I release the terrified surrogate. “Go.”
The witch bolts, leaving a deafening silence in her wake.
“My office. Now.” Bram’s voice brooks no argument.
I whirl on him. “I won’t give up on Lucan!”
With a twitch of his finger, Bram magically drags me back into the study, slamming the door. I’m about to unleash hell when he cuts me off.