DAWNLESS

Fear is Severyn Vermont's birthright.

Forged in the Court of Aithyros Myr, she is both blade and shadow, a creature whose crimson eyes command silence. To love her is to bleed for her and still, the powerful can not look away.

When rebellion kindles in the human Rings, Severyn is sent to burn it out. But every step into Ashkaris Therael pulls her deeper into a snare: a Highlord who tempts her with defiance, and a Prince whose hunger for her borders on ruin.

The whispers speak of blood, of power long buried, of truths that should never rise.
And Severyn knows better than anyone.

Beneath sunless skies, some truths claw their way to the surface.

☆☆☆☆EXCERPT☆☆☆☆

His shadow fell over her before his touch did. Ilyrion moved like smoke, sudden, silent, until Severyn's back grazed the cold stone of the garden wall.

The knife she'd kept hidden was still in her palm, but his fingers closed around her wrist before she could raise it.

"Still hunting me?" His voice was a velvet snare, soft enough to almost disguise the sharpness beneath.

Almost.

Severyn tilted her head, her gaze sharpening. "I don't waste effort on what presents itself."

His grin bared the faintest glint of fang, too handsome, too cruel. "Then what am I to you, Severyn?"

The air between them charged as the knife held firm. Her strength against his grip, his heat bleeding into her skin. She should have shoved him back. Instead, the thrill of the chase stirred, unwelcomed and undeniable.

Ilyrion leaned closer, lips brushing the corner of her mouth without taking. "Fear makes them cower before you," he whispered, his breath hot and unrelenting. "But I... I want to be devoured by it. By you."

Her pulse roared, but her smile was sharper still. "Careful, Prince," she breathed, turning the knife until its edge kissed the hollow of his throat. "You might get exactly what you beg for."