! Trigger Warning, this book contains dark themes.!
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In a realm teeming with fantastical beings, a rare and fearsome race known as Dramérs, which combined the bloodlines of demons and vampires, roamed the lands.
The Dramérs were in a perpetual...
! Trigger Warning, this book contains dark themes such as: Non-Consensual scenes, Abuse, Slavery, Suicide, and obsession.
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"Chantelle, why must you put up a fight, you know you will not win. It only angers him and you know the outcome of his anger. How do you think it makes me feel, your brother...I'm the one that has to clean the blood from your body, the one that has to look at those wounds–"
"I'm fine, Maxwell. I just–"
"No, you're not, you're not okay, I'm sick of your lies, Chantelle. You're eighteen years old. You've been here since you were eight years old, you've been used by him since you were sixteen. You cannot hide the fact you want him dead. Just as much–maybe even more than I do. And as your big brother, I'm going to get you out of here one way or another."
"Silence yourself, Maxwell. If he hears you plotting his betrayal, we will both perish," I cautioned, glaring at him as I hoisted my gown over my knees and stormed toward the closet to grab a new pair of stockings. The mere thought of my brother's death was unbearable. Orpheus would kill us the second he found out. Even if Maxwell was his right-hand man, he could easily replace him.
"I don't care. Your safety is all that matters. I will end him tonight, the moment midnight strikes. And you must flee, never looking back, cross the border, and you will be safe. They dare not pursue into Dramér territory; they would perish in the attempt."
"You should care, Maxwell, you have a family, a wife and two children! Don't be selfish and get yourself killed. Orpheus will kill your wife, he'll turn your daughters into sex workers for the werewolves, and they'll end up just like me. I'll do it. I have nothing to lose, Maxwell. If this doesn't work out, then so be it."
Maxwell's eyes held a pained expression as he averted his gaze from me, his fist clenched tightly. It was clear he had more to say, but he chose to let it go. With a nod, he reached into his bag, retrieved a sharp wooden stake, and handed it to me.
"Once you cross the border, seek out Prince Cazmus. Tell him Queen Victoria and Duke—"
"Prince Cazmus will kill me; it would be like walking into a lion's den, Maxwell."
"No, he will listen to you if it's about his father. King Voltaren's death is what changed Cazmus. Queen Victoria has bound Cazmus to her with his father's blood. She controls him, and as you know, only the Dramér bloodline can control other demons. She's manipulating Cazmus with magic, aiming to take over Calzaer. She attempted this with King Voltaren's dragon, but since dragons are linked to their masters in mind, body, and soul, she perished alongside Voltaren."
I struggled to comprehend the situation. The witches and sorcerers remained concealed, moving in silence with a barrier that rendered their scents undetectable. Cazmus had induced a deep slumber in his dragon, Calzaer, due to its sense of his rage, which led it to destroy anything in its path until Queen Victoria intervened.
