Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 128087 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128087 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
The titans stood to the side, giving him plenty of room as he approached.
The battle of the lifeless was over, the titanesses no longer having to fight as the dead souls fell to their knees and bowed in Lazaar’s presence.
He did not honor them. His deadly glare was on his mother crawling along the ground in the opposite direction.
Her mission had failed.
He stalked toward her, wreathed in fire. Together, he and his raptor were a horrific sight.
“Bring her to me,” he demanded in the language of the God of Vengeance.
Lazaar’s fangs were longer, making his voice more garbled and sinister.
He relished it. Embraced the evil of his vampire while also controlling it.
Myst leapt several feet in front of him and came down on his mother’s back, digging her long talons deep into her flesh.
Myst flapped her large wings and dragged her over, dropping her mangled body at Lazaar’s feet.
She tried to lift her head to look him in his eyes, but Myst stepped on the back of her skull and pushed her face into the dirt.
She cried out, but Myst showed no leniency. Held less compassion in her soul than even him.
“Keep your eyes lowered. You’re not worthy to gaze on my dark glory.”
“Those powers are mine,” she whimpered with a mouth full of mud. “Give them back…my…my son, please.”
If Lazaar had been capable in this form, he would’ve laughed.
“They were never yours, and I was never your son.”
“Then let me serve you as my dark prince.”
Lazaar paused and listened to the murmured orders of the evil gods that ruled with Hades.
Your wishes, my lord? Myst asked in a grainy voice that echoed in Lazaar’s mind. He was now able to communicate with her, as his powers had no bounds.
Death, he answered, the taste of victorious evil thudding in his core.
Myst gripped his mother’s arms and hauled her upright.
She struggled to look at him as his irises ignited in a wreath of flames.
“The lords of Hades are ready to receive you, Lavinia Drach, disgraced mage of the Coven of Ember. And you will serve my gods, headless, in the Underworld, on your hands and knees.”
His mother didn’t have another chance to beg for her life before Lazaar dragged one flaming finger across her throat, slitting it deep enough that her head hung off her shoulders.
Myst released her lifeless body and let it fall to the ground.
Lazaar held his palm out flat in front of him and motioned downward, sending her corpse beneath the ground and to his lords as they demanded.
There was no remorse for her death. He felt no sympathy.
Lazaar closed his eyes and praised his evil gods before he released his darkness.
With his core exposed and his mind clear, he called on his titan’s heart to bring him back to goodness and love.
Zepharali
Zepharali waited for Lazaar’s impressive flames to extinguish.
To say he was scary and intimidating in his full tribrid form would be a gross understatement.
He’d encountered and fought a lot of vicious creatures, even demigods, but none could top the dark lord of three powers.
“My treasure.” Zepharali put his arms and cloak over Lazaar’s shoulders.
He was still hot, steam rising from his reddened skin. But the darkness had receded and he could feel Lazaar calling out for him, tugging at his heart.
“Come back to me,” Zepharali whispered, his lips caressing Lazaar’s earlobe. “I love you. Come back.”
After several minutes of coaxing, Lazaar blinked his eyes open, and Zepharali was relieved to see his irises were the beautiful, shiny onyx he’d fallen in love with.
“Lazaar,” he murmured, kissing his smooth cheek.
“I’m here, beloved.”
Zepharali shuddered, glad Lazaar’s voice was no longer speaking in a demonic language, nor his voice as terrifying.
He hugged him tighter, stroking his long black hair.
“You were beautiful and so strong.” He nuzzled his temple. His words were slow and soothing. “I’m proud of you… We all are.”
No one was cheering and whooping or running up to slap Lazaar on his back for a job well done.
He glanced over his shoulder as if he’d just noticed the many titans, titanesses, and amazons standing in silent astonishment at his greatness.
The dead souls, decapitated and not, had fallen and turned to dust with the death of their maker.
Zepharali hoped they had followed her to the Underworld, where they belonged.
“I’m so glad you and your brothers are safe.”
“Thanks to you.”
Lazaar buried his face against his throat and inhaled, and Zepharali delighted in the feel of the gentle lick across his jugular.
Not caring about the audience, Zepharali moaned and squeezed his love tighter.
I’m so tired, my lord…and thirsty.
I know…I can feel it.
Take me home, please.
Without warning, Zepharali shot into the sky and flew them toward his palace.
He’d make sure Lazaar was cared for in every way he knew how.
Zepharali
“Damn, baby.” Zepharali rolled Lazaar on top of him while his addictive fangs were still deep in his throat. “Your appetite is insatiable this morning.”