Blood & Honey #1

Chapter Thirty-One

When I enter the throne room, the Dark Prince is sitting slumped in his seat with his hand shielding half his face. He doesn't acknowledge me though he has requested my presence. He snaps his fingers.

Thron nods and descends the steps the throne sits upon. Kneeling in front of the intricate metal box on the ground, he takes off the necklace around his neck. He places the jagged-edged pendant into the slot that matches the pattern and turns it. Gears click, turning until the sphere key has opened all the mechanisms of the lock.

My father opens the lid. A familiar energy snakes into me as the sword with the face of a beast on the hilt claims me. The black veins covering me begin to move, their pattern shifting on me as they swirl like a magical incantation sealed within me.

Thron slams the box shut, ending the maddening storm of power rising in me. This sword harbors a part of me. We are tethered together by an invisible bond gifted to us as the warrior bloodline. War and death is our specialty, but a member of the Darkos bloodline is strongest when paired with the weapon that contains the full extent of our power.

With each life claimed by my hand, the sword's power grows. Mine was taken from me during the Great War. It was locked up and kept out of my reach for my kind began to fear the power I was wielding with it. Yet, I know the real truth. It was taken from me because the Prince could see my power with it matched his own and, unlike the other vampirie, I can defy him.

"Imagine my surprise when I went to Kinley's room to find Marianna there, rocking a baby Kinley. I have spent the past three days forcing her to drink my blood and, for what? To have you trigger the angel in the east courtyard? It seems you are never going to stay away from my massarra so let's make a deal." The Prince stands and comes to my father's side.

He shoves the box containing the sword over to me with his foot with such force I have to stop it by placing my foot on the top of the box to keep it from breaking the bones in my legs.

"I need someone to raise the army of the firstborn from their prison in the underworld," the Dark Prince continues. "In order to do that, I need to spill a massive amount of blood in a single blow. That little trick of yours with the energy you took from my mate is just the thing I need to achieve such a deadly attack. So, Tristan, if you will acknowledge my rule in the new era of darkness I am about to unleash upon humanity, I will give you that which you most desire. I will gift you the massarra I have never had for three hundred years. After the three hundred years, she will become mine again to do with as I please."

"Army of the firstborn?" I narrow my gaze at the Dark Prince.

"Before the first massarra was created, I struck a deal with our Maker—the sacrifice of pureblooded humans as payment for an army that would replenish our warriors numbers should a conflict between the angels and vampirie erupt. The Great War broke out. Zeura's white army descended upon us, targeting our warriors, most notably the Darkos bloodline. The loss to your bloodline can never be reconciled no matter how many forced pairings are made. The deal proved fruitful—seven virgin humans and the firstborn who would rise again."

"What if I refuse? You can force me to kneel, but you cannot force me to do anything else." I take the sword that bears the mark of the fanged beast sent straight from the pits of hell out of the box and feel it's weight in my hand. It's like being reunited with a missing piece of myself.

"Then I will serve you Kinley's tiny little heart on a bed of her innards. The angel problem will be solved and I will comfortably rule over my new kingdom while you spend an eternity as stone with the taste of her forever lying on your tongue and in your stomach." The Dark Prince takes Kinley from one of the warriors who brought her in here.