It looked up.
Countless stars shimmered in the night sky. The moon was barely a sliver, but the creature was drawn to it.
Once, it had loved the moon and the cold.
Now, it didn’t even know its name.
The creature stood as still as a statue, drinking in the moon’s silver glow, until pain twisted its stomach.
Agony.
White-hot ropes of pure pain unfurled within the ancient being.
The creature was intimately familiar with this feeling. Hunger was too simple of a word. It was ravenous, its hollow stomach and the need to feed the only thing it could think about.
The creature had been strong once.
Now, it was merely a remnant of itself—a wisp, little more than a ghost.
It couldn’t stay here. It needed food.
The creature lowered its gaze from the heavens and looked around. More tombs, each outlined in silver, stood in a large circle around the creature. Were the others awake?
It listened for a long moment, extending its senses, but didn’t hear anything. It shook its head.
Away. It had to leave.
The others would have to break their own bonds.
The creature shoved away from the tomb. It staggered, its legs attempting to remember how to walk.
Right foot. Left.
It slowly stumbled forward, leaving the tombs behind.
Once, the creature had a name.
Not anymore.
There was only one thing on its mind as it headed towards the snow-covered trees: blood.
First, the creature would feed. Then, it would exact its revenge on the people who had locked it up.
One person at a time.
One Halfling Prince, and a Heap of Trouble
Vivienne Beaumont was going to die a very gruesome, very public death.
She could already see it playing out in her mind.
The vampire king would drag her in front of the court, bind and gag her in his shadows, and drive a wooden stake through her heart. She’d scream, the sound muffled by the gag, but no one would stop him. After all, he was their ruler.
Death would be her price for failing him.
They called him the King of Darkness for a reason. He was known for his black heart, not his kindness. Everyone knew the kinds of acts he’d committed in the previous queen’s name.
Even though Vivienne hadn’t been at court then, she’d heard of Queen Marguerite’s cruelty. The king was different, but Vivienne had only ever seen him smile at his wife.