War of Hearts Read online Samantha Young

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 133191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
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Thea felt a little flutter of nerves as she turned to the page. According to Vik, Jerrik had been much older than when the journal first began, so he hadn’t chronicled his time as a vampire until centuries later.

She read, falling into his descriptions of a fae world that was exquisite and brutal, and hours passed as Jerrik told his story to her from beyond the grave …

(Roman Calendar Year 132 BC)

Geimhreadh, Faerie

There is never a day here I do not wonder at Faerie. My brother and I move through this world without need of protection; the bright star in the sky here does not burn as it does in our world. Days of running free through the other lands to reach Geimhreadh. The journey on horseback would take weeks. Months. Our vampire speed holds us in good stead. Yet as soon as we cross into Geimhreadh, we feel peace. A world of eternal darkness, the moon here impossibly brighter than our own, a light upon our skin that soothes rather than burns. If I could, I would live here for all my days as the creature that was made of me. Eirik does not agree. Although he enjoys some pleasures afforded by Faerie, he takes more pleasure in the power he holds over humans back on Earth.

The eternal night is not my only sanctuary here. I fear that Eirik’s growing distaste with Faerie has more to do with my mate than anything else. My mate. My slow, beating heart gallops faster at the mere thought of her.

Andraste.

A princess of the Night Lands.

Mine.

My mate.

As Eirik and I slow our speed upon entering Réalta, the royal city of the Night Lands, I cannot help but stare at the world so vastly different from ours and find joy in it. Eirik thinks me a fool. That I have not yet grown used to their superior living. But our world seems primitive in comparison. Our squat, brick dwellings with holes for windows. Here there are towering buildings carved into mountains, windows that stretch for miles, shielded from the outside by the opaque sheets called Gleamings. Some were transparent. From my lady’s chamber, I can see every glittering star in the night sky.

Others, like those along the front facade of the Geimhreadh Palace, were stained with colors so exquisite the beauty was almost too much. The palace itself was built entirely of a material like the marble used in the city of Rome. Yet the Romans built with brick and merely covered facades with the expense of marble, a show of power and wealth. Once upon a time, I thought Rome the most superior place I had ever visited.

That was before Faerie. Where entire villages are built from marble.

The marble here was inset with the tiniest gemstones that sparkled like diamonds beneath the moon’s glow. I had never seen its like.

We moved as ghosts over paving stones across the Royal Square where market dwellers sold their wares. There were stalls of meats, sweet pies, clothing, furs, jewelry, weapons, and even blood for their visiting vampire kin for sale.

A shriek drew my attention toward the center of the square where a large water fountain stood. It was a marble sculpture of my beloved and her two sisters, their hands raised as if to the heavens. Water fell from those hands by way of magic.

Another shriek tore my attention from the middle sculpture of Andraste. A human female was crying and begging as fae wearing royal guard uniform tore at her clothing, hell-bent on taking their pleasure from her. Another shriek rent the air but not from her.

Only feet from her another human woman was on the ground, her gown ripped open to reveal a back that was now bloody from a flogging. A tall fae I recognized stood over her, wielding a weapon much like the flagrum I’d seen in Rome.

It was Lir, the queen’s captain, a brutish son of a bitch who found joy in human misery.

“The queen is here,” I said to Eirik.

I turned to him. Eirik’s eyes blazed at the scene playing out on the square.

“There is nothing we can do for them,” I reminded him.

My brother had strange morals. He would drain a human dry without thinking about it, but he detested rape or any abuse of those he felt were weaker than him. It was dishonorable. I, myself, did not partake in any of the more abhorrent activities against the humans we sometimes witnessed during our visits to Faerie. Moreover, I rarely lost control when drinking from a human.

Yet I could see past the brutality against humans to the marvel and wonder of Faerie. To me this world was far more eminent and illustrious than ours and the fae within it. However, Eirik considered humans our people, to be treated as we saw fit, not as how the fae saw fit.


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