PROLOGUE
Sebastian
It is a coward’s end.
In all my years of rule and all those nights of paranoia, I never imagined losing like this. If I fell, I believed I would at least be bloodied, beaten to the bone, in the midst of a violent battle. Instead, I stand in the dusted shadows of my manor, carefully peeking between mismatched curtains. They’re blankets, technically. As soon as darkness fell last night, we stripped all the beds in this place and haphazardly hung the multicolored quilts over each and every window.
Now, with the sun high above the Echo, I watch the world go on without us.
Through the curtains, I catch glimpses of the gathered crowd. Men and women, even children. Humans and witches, fae and harpies. They’re all here to taunt us, to mock the great and fallen rule of their vampire king. Nearthe center, a human tips her head back, cheering along with the crowd. She stands on the lawn ofmymanor, her throat exposed, jugular begging for my teeth.
I would kill her first, I decide. If I wasn’t trapped in these shadows, victim of the witches’ petty hatred, I would drain the blood from her body. Then, I’d do the same to the men and the children and anyone else I caught before they escaped the Night Realm.
I’d engorge myself to death, just to ensure they pay for their sins.
“Master.”
I startle, turning to look at one of my long-time followers. Oskar Duluth is younger than I am, but he’s trapped in an elderly body. Silver hair, wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, and spots from years of sun exposure. They’re afflictions from his mortality, forever frozen on his skin.
If he stepped outside now, he’d fare far worse than sun spots.
“You are the only man capable of surprising me,” I tell him. I’m not sure why. I typically keep weaknesses to myself. It must be the hunger. I haven’t fed since the witches cursed us two nights ago. Condemned us to this darkness.
I glance down the hall, opposite the direction of Oskar. Three corpses litter the elegant marble, their bodies caught in sunlight and scorched to the bone. The smell of death permeates the air, and the stench will inevitably linger for decades.
When I return my gaze to Oskar, his bloodshot eyes study me. He’s as hungry as I am, but like always, he’s less affected. More controlled. He doesn’t acknowledge my confession, and I pretend I didn’t make it.
“Freja?” I ask. I heard she was one of many caught in the sun without a place to hide. Oskar spent the last two nightslooking for her among the bodies. This is the first I’ve seen him since it all began.
He swallows hard and stares at the heavy drapes, rather than replying. It’s answer enough.
“They will pay,” I say carefully. I never understood Oskar’s affection for Freja. She was his wife before they turned, and it’s the only reason I imagine he loved her now. Vampires aren’t meant for love or romantic titles. We feast. We fuck. We do as we please.
No, I’ve never understood Oskar’s affection, but I’ve known him long enough to acknowledge it exists.
“Perhaps tonight, once the sun sets, we will find their villages,” I say. “Burn them to ash. Do to them as they’ve done to us.”
Even as I speak, I know it’s a foolish idea. The witches are smarter than I often credit them. It’s the reason we’re in this mess in the first place. And, temporary as I expect this to be, it’s a reminder not to underestimate them.
I can’t afford to tear across the Echo with a half-formed plan to murder every coven we find. If I fail, it will inevitably bring more unease amongst my followers, and right now, that’s not something I can afford.
I sigh. It will likely be days before we put an end to this. For now, we are trapped during daylight hours. Quiet, hushed, ashamed. We are caged animals, locked away by mere mortals.
“The responsible will pay,” I say. I look over my shoulder at Oskar.
He stares blankly through me, to the point I don’t expect him to respond. When he does, my attention has already drifted back to the slit in the curtains.
“Yes,” he finally agrees. “They will pay.”
We remain in silence for several minutes. Just when I’mreadying to leave, to force myself to plan, rather than simply wallow, it strikes.
A raging heat spreads through my chest, then deeper, burrowing into my bones. I feel it everywhere, a tortuous burn, like a flame loosed inside my veins. It explodes beneath the skin, infecting each organ like a rabid parasite. Stomach. Lungs. Brain. I’m positive the sun has somehow broken through the curtains, that I’m being burned alive where I kneel.
“Hells,” Oskar gasps. It’s barely a whisper as he falls to his knees, both hands clasping his sternum.
It lasts seconds, minutes, hours. I can’t be sure. Time ceases to exist.Everythingbut this roaring pain disappears, until I find myself begging for death.
Then, it stops.
