Wyrren is more than ready to put her past behind her. Unfortunately, the King de Marla doesn't seem to feel the same. He's offering a fortune to see her dead.
Coming February 2012!
It was up to her.
One year and a half traveling the world. One husband, one stepsister, eight bodyguards turned into friends. An expansive, humid jungle in a hundred shades of green; a crumbling pyramid made of enormous blocks. Corvin handed Wyrren the knife, a large blade of folded steel in the shape of a fan. Her white hands clutched the bone handle unnecessarily tight while the sweat and humidity made her grip unsteady.
Her eyes went to her husband, Gideon Flynn. Gideon the immortal. Gideon the monster to some, and perhaps he had his moments. He stood still and seemingly calm now, but his eyes were on her and nowhere else.
Wyrren hesitated, then grabbed the chin of the pig that had been tied to the altar and sliced across the throat. Blood spurted and poured across the stone surface and into worn grooves and crevices, turning green moss brown and staining her hands and clothes with spray. The pig gave a horrible scream and fought against the ropes, then tiring, then falling limp.
Wyrren closed her eyes and put her hands on the body, focusing with all her might. One feeling, one word: come.
And she felt something move.
Not the dying flesh at her fingertips. Not her friends and family around her. Something was coming, and she could feel it. It was a taste in the air, the sudden quiet in the jungle, the sound of the fabric of her sister’s dress rustling as she fidgeted, the blood slowing to a trickle. Wyrren opened her eyes, saw old runes carved into the pyramid begin to fill with blue light. She had called, and something was coming...
And then it all subsided. The glow first, then the return of the heat and noise.
“Damn it!” Wyrren yelled suddenly and stabbed the pig’s body once, then twice. That was supposed to have worked. It was supposed to have helped them.
Her husband turned away from her. She had been so sure this time. Certain that after five thousand years, something could change, something could be right again, the person she loved most might have peace... something. Anything.
Death hadn’t come, and she didn’t know why.