Gods and mortals were never meant to fall in love. Now in a weakened state, there is nothing left to stand between the immortals and the vampires. Vows, however, cannot be broken no matter how great an evil has risen.
The vampires have lain dormant...
The screams of the dying were muffled between the layers of earth standing between the battlefield and the underworld. Abram blinked, blood spattering on his upturned face as he glanced up, only mildly distracted. It shouldn't be much longer. He much preferred silence, the gentle splashing of the blood fountain the only sound heard in the eternal silence.
Not today.
Reaching for his staff, the patriarch was the first to wade through the river of blood, the droplets above now a torrential downpour as Abram led his followers toward the narrow passage that separated the underworld from the battlefield just above their heads.
Turning to face the pale-faced creatures, Abram opened his mouth, revealing a gaping black hole that smelled of death and decay.
"It is time. We are about to be rewarded for our patience and faithfulness. The mighty have fallen and the kingdoms of this world are ours for the taking. There are none left to prevent us from taking what is rightfully ours. To victory!"
As one, gaping holes opened emitting a semblance of a cheer although it sounded more like a screeching version of a death rattle. It didn't matter. It was over. Darkness was rising and there was none left to put up a fight.
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(ZUDDERELL)
Bellowing with unmasked fury the giant of a man watched as his only child fled from the scene of death without a backward glance. Blue waves of lightning struck the ground in quick succession as a similar hued blue fog licked at the stallion's hoofs as King Theinsak carried his lover toward the dense forest and to safely. Meraci was carrying his heir, after all - their miracle child. He couldn't and wouldn't leave her to stand at her father's side as arrows rained down on them.
Biting back a low moan as she clung to his sweat-slick torso, Meraci's father's cry of rage at their betrayal still rang in their ears long after they had disappeared from sight.
"He's nothing but a hypocrite," Meraci didn't attempt to mask her bitterness as her lover slowed his gait, the kingdom of the centaurs looming against the darkening sky just ahead. "It is unfortunate that my best friend lost her life today but she, too, was a fool for standing with weakened gods. If my father knew the truth..."
There was no need to finish her train of thought. Both were very aware that the gods could never discover their carefully guarded secret. Her father was likely already slain, laying in his own blood along with the other dieties who had dared to fall in love with mortals. If he guessed at the truth, he would have taken it with him in death.
King Theinsak reached for Meraci's hand as they walked toward the looming gates, his men prostrating before their new queen and their unborn heir who offered the kingdom hope.
Her father, however, was far from dead. Gazing down into the unseeing green eyes of his Secret Keeper, Zudderell struck the ground with his fist, the earth trembling with the impact. Inadvertently cutting off the vampires' passage back to their underground lair, Zudderell watched as the captain of the Black Sun warriors sheathed his broadsword before unceremoniously ripping the baby from her dead mother's womb.
As though aware that this wasn't the way her destiny was supposed to begin, the infant filled her tiny lungs, shrieking in protest.
The warrior muffled the baby's cries against his broad chest but that didn't block out the view of the dark-haired man in a long tunic swinging an ax down, cleanly severing Zudderell's head in one clean swoop. And just like that a deep-seated loathing of vampires was branded upon the goddess's soul.
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"She is the image of her mother," Freya crooned as she paused her restless pacing long enough to reach for the infant who had remained silent since the minute Zudderell took his last breath.
"It will be to our advantage," a muscle clenched in the warrior's jaw as he relinquished his precious cargo. "From my sources, her father was struck down first. I believe Meraci may have been part of the plot to overthrow the gods. The centaur king was seen fleeing with her from the battle. You must have heard the rumors and after tonight, there may be truth to them after all."
"The vow still stands," Frey announced as he joined the others, barely glancing at the infant in his sister's arms as he ran his fingers through his shaggy, ice-blonde hair. "You know what must be done. If the gods stand a chance, we haven't a moment to lose."
"I'll return for the child as soon as I am able," the warrior's eyes spoke volumes before he joined Frey's side, the men disappearing into the night.
Freya was barely listening, her soft lips gently brushing the baby's forehead.
"You will be a great queen, Lanecea. I know that you will not rest until you avenge the blood that was spilled today but first you must be hidden. If our enemies should ever discover who you are..."
Freya left her words unspoken, opening the portal of time with her free hand.
Lanecea gazed up at Freya, her eyes filled with perfect trust a moment before she and the beautiful blonde woman disappeared within hazy blue fog.
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(MERACI)
The escape proved to be too much for the goddess, triggering early labor pangs. King Theinsak paced restlessly at her bedside, his hoofs echoing off the marble columns within the stately bedroom but nothing could alleviate the queen's agony as she struggled to bring the creature their forbidden lust had created into the world.
"Storm," Meraci whispered as she gasped for breath, the sound drowned out by her son's cry just as his Secret Keeper took her first breath as the warrior pulled her from her mother's carcass.
Without thinking, King Theinsak grinned at the sight of his son's ten perfect toes.
"Thank the gods, our son has taken after his mother."
Meraci shivered, her father still not cold in the ground. Brushing her sweat-dampened hair from her eyes, she could only imagine how excruciating it would have been to push a foal from her body, silently swearing that Storm would be her first and last child.
"No one can ever know what our son is - who he is."
"My men will keep our secret if they want to keep their tongues."
