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PROLOGUE - 1862
The Nightmare King
Victory.
I could taste it.
I paused in my evaluation of the battle happening below where bodies crashed like waves against the gates of the Spanish fort.
Death. Destruction. Defeat.
Lips peeled back in a rictus smile; I clicked my teeth.
Was there anything as sweet?
The invaders lucky enough to still be on their feet were being forced into retreat; my army, a tide of strength, pushed the losers backward.
See how they run.
Their tails cut off with a carving knife.
Oh, see how they run.
And see them I did. The evening gloom did little to deter my vision or dull the glow of my opposition—a resistance of dream creatures and dream-stitched humans, a writhing brilliance decorating the men with living tattoos.
To those with capable eyes, my creatures were just as visible—a pulse of dark, an army defined by the absence of light. Together we’d swallow the earth. I would make them unstoppable. From watching humans, I’d learned hope never grew as strong or as fast as fear did.
A clot of vivid brightness was being towed in through the crumbling gates. It was as if they’d captured daylight. Even from up here I could tell the luminescence was no ordinary creature. No ordinary dream.
The stir of great wings in the stairwell a moment later gave me my answer.
An angel.
I smelled her as soon as she crossed the threshold; even with my back to her, I knew the angel behind me was female. Mankind had dreamed creatures like this into existence—virtuous and merciful. To me, the bird was nothing more than the spoils of war.
My cock stirred, power a warm flush under my skin. I glanced down my naked body and watched my anticipation grow. Blood filled my veins as they snaked around my erection.
Comfort in the discomfort of being hard.
Despite their idiosyncrasies, this was the one human capability I could envy—the one unexpected delight of hosting myself in their bodies.
Smiling, I turned.
She stood her ground, but I could tell my little bird was startled, as a flutter rippled through her wings.
My smile broadened.
I knew what she saw—raw savage.
Naked, my muscles rippled under skin slick with the painted blood of my enemies. My presence filled the room. Everything about me was twice as big as the men around me.
Big enough to make a girl flighty.
She pirouetted, a graceful bird of prey, nails as sharp as talons tearing out throats and breaking necks. Heads lolled from men almost beheaded. Certain death.
I didn’t move.
Didn’t twitch as she plowed through her entourage to come at me.
