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    A Kiss of Fate
    A Kiss of Fate
    A Kiss of Fate
    Ebook100 pages1 hour

    A Kiss of Fate

    By A. Royden D'souza

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    The wheels of fate have started turning, setting into motion the deathly chariot of destiny...

    ​It all began with a piece of parchment—a missive from Eitheon that confirmed Vorigan’s darkest fears. The Emperor of Aria sent forth his formidable minions to seek out the last descendant of Ilirion’s Bloodline, dead or alive. Little did the Empire know she was nearer than they had anticipated, or one of their own was keeping her hidden from Vorigan’s malevolent sight.

    ​She was Lady Ayana of Argent, and she knew they would come for her one day. Unfortunately, she was not the only one in danger. Could Lady Ayana protect her loved ones? Could she escape the clutches of the ill famed Imperial Guard? Could she truly outrun the fiery tentacles of fate?

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherA. Royden D'souza
    Release dateFeb 25, 2018
    ISBN9781370189748
    A Kiss of Fate

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      Book preview

      A Kiss of Fate - A. Royden D'souza

      Chapter I

      The members of the High Council rose from their seats as Emperor Vorigan entered the council chamber. He made his way toward the ornate dais, flanked by two of the Imperial Guard, the dreaded sentinels of Aregon. The scales of his blood red armor glinted in the dull sunlight seeping in through the immense crystal window behind the dais. He adjusted his cape and lowered himself into the dark marble throne.

      Take your seats. His voice cut through the silence like a blade of ice.

      The various envoys and warlords inclined their heads and settled into the stone chairs set against the curving wall.

      Vorigan leaned forward, hiding his distaste behind a mask of indifference. He held no love for these two faced councilors. But he was no fool either. No matter how much he desired to sink his fangs into each of their necks, he had need of their resources.

      It has been six months, Vorigan said. You promised me his head, yet the accursed Hunter walks free, a thorn in my side. Despite your pitiful excuses, he has repeatedly exploited your incompetence.

      Silence reigned for a moment, before Hadrian Willmont, the warlord of Turahn spoke. The Hunter is one of the first six, your highness. Ca…Capturing him will be difficult without cooperation from the Imperial Guard. His gaze remained focused on the foot of the dais.

      Vorigan frowned, his steel enclosed fingers steadily tapping the armrest. If only they knew what he had taken from him. Moreover, the Hunter suspected the truth. He knew too much. Vorigan had no choice but to eliminate him before he caused any more complications.

      The Lycaonian envoy, Julian Le Cordier, added in agreement. He speaks truly, your grace.

      He paled as Vorigan’s gaze pierced his gray eyes. He brushed aside a lock of dark hair and cleared his throat. He cannot be underestimated, your grace. We already lost three of our best trackers, and one was a lieutenant to the first pack.

      The council hall broke into whispers and murmurs, agitated by Julian’s account.

      The Emperor studied his composed countenance. He often wondered why the Wolf King had made this inexperienced half-human his envoy. He had an eloquent tongue and a cunning mind, but he was no commander. Maybe that was his purpose. In councils like these, deceit often proved more effective.

      The noisy babel faltered when Gregor Ironfang stood, drawing many looks of wonderment and indignation. His stone cold features betrayed no fear of death or doom, as befitted the Scion of Argent. Pardon my impertinence, sire, but this is no time to be conferring about a lone hunter. There are more important matters to be discussed.

      Julian tilted his head. Matters of more import than the Hunter?

      Gregor directed a dark glance at the Lycaonian envoy, his eyes inscrutable. Indeed.

      What might those be? Vorigan asked.

      I was referring to the Resistance, your grace, Gregor replied. It seems they have become more active these days. I hoped the council would take this threat seriously.

      The Vampyre Lord is right, Irwen said, addressing her fellow Councilors. We sense their presence even in the depths of Tangarís.

      Vorigan’s lips pulled back in a sneer as he found her cold green eyes. I hear there have been more rebellions in Cerebrene.

      Irwen raised her chin. The Elvanór are unhappy with the Empire’s interference in the internal matters of Celavrórn. Many have deserted our cities and allied with the-

      Vorigan held up his gauntleted hand. Queen Ványa shares that dissatisfaction? he asked, a cold glint in his eyes.

      Though her ethereal features remained without expression, the elf maiden’s nails dug into her trembling palm. Certainly not, Lord Vorigan, Irwen replied in a flat tone. Our only desire is peace between all races of Aria.

      Excellent. A spiteful grin spread across his face. Then our goals are aligned. He had to keep an eye on them, especially now that Aries had begun making his move. Even though Ványa was not foolish enough to underestimate him, she would not hesitate at the prospect of driving a dagger into his back.

      What do you intend to do about the Resistance, your grace? Gregor asked, interrupting his thoughts.

      Vorigan’s face twisted in a malignant grimace. It seems I have overlooked their insolence for too long. It is time we crushed them once and for all.

      The councilors murmured their approval. Vorigan regretted not finishing off Aries when he had the chance. Though the Resistance was not an immediate threat to his plans, he could not sit back either, not if he wanted to unite the forces of Aria under his scepter. These matters had to be dealt with care.

      We have to act quickly, your grace, Julian said. It will pose a greater threat if the Hunter was to make contact with the Resistance. He has powerful allies within the Atlantian Council.

      Very well. Vorigan’s muscles tightened at the mention of Atlantis. Stonearm and Iowen shall lead the forces at South Warren and root the Resistance from the Empire. As for the hunter, it is unlikely any of your soldiers are competent enough to find him. I shall have Valentine take care of that menace.

      He would not spare any more troops, not when he was so close…

      A loud thump reverberated through the chamber, and the heavy doors opened with a faint creak. 

      The councilors frowned at the guard who stood on the threshold, irked by the interruption.

      Vorigan scowled. What is it?

      A messenger from Eitheon pleads an audience, your grace. He claims the matter to be dire.

      Send him in.

      The guard bowed and retreated. 

      A masked messenger, garbed in a dark cloak, walked past the guard. He retrieved a scroll from his sleeve and bent his knee before the throne.

      A missive to the Emperor of Aria.

      Alexa Drabek of the Imperial Guard stepped forward and took the scroll from him. She examined it, emotionless eyes glazing as she ran a hand over the rolled paper. Once satisfied, she offered it to the Emperor.

      Vorigan broke the seal and unrolled the scroll. Impossible! A sketch of a red haired woman covered half the parchment, followed by a few sentences in Sintican script. His eyes narrowed into slits as he deciphered the message, the tendons in his neck tightening with each line.

      A terrifying snarl emanated from his lungs as he rose, pupils aflare. The scroll slipped from his gauntlet and rolled across the dais. He recognized that hair all too well, but it was inconceivable. Not when they had made certain to wipe out all

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