Prologue

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"Finish him..." The words rung out like an executioner's axe. Every word was clean, crisp, and deadly. No one can defy Royalty.

"Wait! Wait! Please! No! No! Nooo—CRUNCH!" The prisoner screamed until the crystal clear blade cut through his white skin, silencing him forever. Servants bustled in and hauled away the body.

"Bring in the next..." The deep, chilling voice ringed out across the dungeon room. A man was pushed in, a stuffy grey bag covering his face.

"Release him."

The bag is ripped from the man's head. He was an attractive mortal. Healthy pitch black hair, a strong body, sharp lines, and a very nice figure; for a mortal. The man raised his head, proudly, but stupidly. The mortal peered open his steel grey, cold yet determined eyes and looks down upon the puddle of red where the last 'guest' was taken care of. No fear entered this man's eyes. He knew the truth. The poor mortal opened the wrong book and believed it, and well, the end.

"Mortal Devonshire." The voice was clean, sharp, and dangerously powerful. The mortal steps forward, "Sire." The man bowed with a perfectly rigid back.

"Stand." A voice boomed back. The man listened for the voice in front of him belonged to the king of immortals.

The king was a large man. A large body. A large castle. A large amount of girls. And a large amount of power. The king narrowed his eyes, "Boy, we have followed you around for your past twenty five years... You are strong. You are sharp. You are dangerous." The king's eyes twinkle. "Are you sure you want to give up your soul and join us?"

The mortal man's eyes sharpened. To be with the love of his life, the immortal beauty, he would give up anything. "Yes sir." The mortal man Devonshire's voice rang loud and clear with his head held high with pride and determination.

"There is no going back, boy. It's a dangerous life with some addictions that are not easily tamed." The king's pupils began to turn red. He leaned forward. The mortal was a very intelligent human, more than usual... and if he'd survive the process... he'd make a very powerful ally in this world of immortals. "You won't be getting your soul back until you have found your one true love, your soul mate. You understand this, sir?"

I have found her, and now I must join her. The man nodded, "Yes. I am ready."

"Very well boy." The king leaned back, almost bored, and flicked his hand.

The man squeezed his eyes shut. For Purity.

The creature attacked and the screaming began. The king watched, a strange sadistic glow to his eyes as the mortal in the man gets sucked away, eaten by higher begins.

He will never be the same.

The mortal dropped as the vampire finished most of his precious human blood. The king gave a slight nod to the vampire, "Thank you Charles. Now go clean up."

The red-eyed, pale skinned, lower class of vampire nodded and strutted out of the room, blood dribbling from his lip as he left the dying mortal in the middle of the gold covered floor of the throne room in a puddle of the previous victims blood.

The king clicked his tongue, looking at the body of the dead man, "He will soon learn that this Mortal emotion of love was his destruction."

The advisor standing silently behind the king, tilted his head, "The man will become stone-hearted after Purity rejects him..."

The king nodded and looked almost sadly upon the mortal, his soul won't return for centuries, if ever... He was bored again. "Take him away!" Servants shuffle in and the body is hauled away.

"His coldness is why I shall make this mortal one of the more powerful transformies. He will have an ice cold heart, and nothing will stand in his way." The King explained. "Now!" the King rubbed his hands in glee, "Bring in the lunch!"

A human is shoved in as the body of the 'mortal' is dragged away. "NO! NO! LET ME GO! NOOOOOOO!"

"SLAM!" The doors shut. No mortals leave this castle ever the same, if they ever leave...

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