In Vranthia, The Wasting has claimed the lives of women, children, and warriors alike; many have fallen to this great plague. No one is safe from its darkness. Recklessness and subterfuge walk hand and hand amongst the Elders, as they seek a means to rule. With ferocity they intend to control the meek, with gluttony they will bleed the docile; destroying all who stand in their way.
But The Wasting can no longer be contained. What began as a dark elixir, stoked in the veins of hatred and revenge, from an enemy long thought dead, has spread beyond the great halls of the Vranthian Kingdom. And no one is certain when or where its darkness will end. Is the mystery and magic of the trion enough to save this great nation?
Kantella Balacjek is a lot of things, but a traitor to his people he is not. He needs to find the source of the darkness to prove his innocence, but the evidence against him grows almost daily. Lies told and enemies made have a way of shielding the truth from the light, even when the truth rages in the blood. Death and her harbinger await him. Will he succumb, or will The Wasting consume them all?
The Darengy grave-warriors have always walked in the shadows. But even they have their outcasts, the creatures that they fear. Onya knows what it is to be different, to be alone with the dying. The shadows and darkness hold their whispers and their pleas. Only she has the power to choose who crosses over. Enslaved by the resistance, she has learned the capacity for evil. Does her blood hold the power to seal the fate of many nations? Does she the courage to change that fate?
Mercenary, loner, wanderer – Traegar is one of the first among the Elders. He is a maker and destroyer of life. Time has jaded him. His people’s level of debauchery and power disgusts him. When the Great Wars ended he chose to walk away and hunt what he despises and loves the most; burying the pieces within him instead. Now his kindred are dying in droves. The Elders have grown unruly, and unstable in their bid for domination. In his dreams the whispers of the ancients fire his blood with the heat of the mating.
Will finding his trion redeem his faith in his people? Will their belief in each other be enough to set them all free? Strong are the Binds of Love, Faith and Magic.
They found her standing at the balcony entry, the golden light of Vranthia’s three moons silhouetting her figure in the shimmering folds of her long, sheer gown. Her room was lit by firelight and moonlight only, the effect stunning against her pale skin and impish figure. When she turned her blue eyes on them, each were lost to her sultry, knowing gaze.
Their twin growls of hunger reached her, and Onya couldn’t help the laugh that escaped.
“You toy with danger unlike you’ve known, my sweet,” Traegar gruffly warned.
“I am braver than you think, mercenary.”
Kantella reached her first, his quick strides and firm strength encompassing her against his length. He folded her against his body, the warm heat of his lips brushing her neck as he whispered, “One of the bravest.”
“Only the bravest to be our mate,” Traegar agreed, tipping her head, stealing her sigh of pleasure with his insistent lips.
Surrounded and encompassed by them, Onya had never felt more safe and secure in her life. Desire burned through her limbs, need quivering in her belly. She clung to Traegar, the wet heat of his tongue delving, tasting, and consuming her. All the while, Kantella wove his own brand of magic against her flesh. His hands cupped her breasts, his erection rubbing against her; pressing her tightly against Traegar’s eager flesh.
They turned her in their arms so that she faced Kantella, making quick work of removing her gown. She stood between them, naked but for her low sandals, her skin glowing in the moonlight. Her long, pale hair flowed to her waist.
“So beautiful,” Kantella rasped, his lips swallowing her gasp.