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PROLOGUE
Nablyudatel Royal Palace, Wednesday, November 21, 2012
Even from more than a mile away, the putrid stench of death hung heavy in the air as Luca and Viktorija approached the palace. The siblings had been in rare agreement that they would handle this task and had left their mother Queen Kittania at the foot of the mountain as they addressed the worst of the former king’s carnage. Being pulled into the vision and forced to watch as her mate slaughtered their children and hundreds of innocents had been horrific. They had wanted to spare her the additional trauma, and she had allowed it.
The siblings knew what awaited them inside the palace. Nikoli had ensured that they’d seen everything. The thought of walking through the familiar halls pricked their nerves and twisted their stomachs into knots. Though they dreaded the task, it was necessary, and it would not become more palatable if they delayed it. Before their people could even begin to move past the madness and terror Nikoli had wrought, they had to face and acknowledge what had happened there. The first step into their new future was to bury their dead and reestablish order in the high Therian kingdom.
The palace witches had either been murdered or had fled, so the magical wards were fading without someone to maintain them. Since the entrance portals were unreliable, they’d contemplated shifting and flying to the summit, but they had decided against it without much deliberation. They would take the long way and assess the damage as they went.
Approaching his former home, Luca was painfully aware that only a few people were alive in the palace. The expression Viktorija leveled at him said she’d noticed the same thing. Neither could sense much past the fear radiating from those still breathing in the ancient fortress. Luca and Viktorija fought the survivors’ fear and sadness as they climbed the mountain.
The palace was normally awash with life and bustling with activity no matter what the time of day or night. When they neared the first entrance to the tunnel system that ran through the mountain, it was undisguised and unguarded. That was the first sign that things had drastically changed.
The siblings hesitantly stepped into the tunnels and had only traveled a few dozen yards before they saw blood. Dark splatters adorned the walls and floor and got thicker with each step they took. They also found puddles of viscera, congealed and dried on the pale stone. The true scope of the horror King Nikoli had wrought upon his people started to sink in for Luca, and it made him sick. When he glanced at his sister, her violet eyes darted around the tunnel, wide with sadness and disgust.
When they reached the palace, the doors were flung wide. Judging by the pile of tattered and shredded clothing pasted with blood to the cold, stiff bodies that lay scattered about, these were slaves who unsuccessfully fled the carnage.
Luca stepped gingerly around them and offered a hand to Viktorija, who glared at him to cover her horror and stepped through the bloodbath on her own. They moved deeper into the palace, finding more gore as they went. In several places, they found badly damaged armor still attached to pieces of the King’s Guard. Nikoli’s rampage hadn’t ended when the vision had. No one had been safe from his unhinged rage, not even his loyal guardsmen.
Viktorija led the way as they followed a trail of blood toward the entrance to the dungeons. They intentionally avoided the throne room. Neither was prepared for what they knew waited for them there. Though they knew the reprieve was only temporary, they chose to grant themselves a few more moments without those images in their minds.
What they discovered in the dungeon made their stomachs roil in disgust. In dragon form, their father had torn through the halls, hell-bent on reaching the people he’d imprisoned in the dank cells. They’d been the most vocal against him, and he’d ripped off rather than open the doors. The pieces he’d left behind told a grisly tale.
Luca tried to make sense of what had happened after Nikoli had stopped transmitting the vision. The high king had rampaged through the palace, leaving few alive. Luca guessed that anyone still alive had been, and likely still was, well-hidden. It was impossible to know how many had died. They could only make rough estimates based on the number of body parts they found. His heart sank further with each new discovery around every corner.
The siblings could have covered more ground if they’d split up, but neither had the strength to make this walk alone. Luca stayed close to his sister, experiencing her emotions through their family connection. She brushed her shoulder against his as they walked to reassure herself that she wasn’t alone, even though he was next to her. As cold and calculating as she was, she needed him.
As he explored the tomb that the opulent palace that had once been his home had become, Luca had to fight the impulse to change shape and burn it to the ground. He wanted to destroy every reminder of Nikoli’s reign—the terrible memories and his crimes against their people.
They needed to start anew. Rebuild and recreate the kingdom with just laws that served the people rather than being based on a madman’s whims.
Luca grimly looked around. No Therian would ever feel safe here again. He didn’t, and given Viktorija’s emotions, neither did she. He decided that this palace would not be the new hub for their people. The lives that had been stolen here called to him, and his soul was marked by their blood.
Guilt almost overwhelmed him. I should never have let it get this far.
Viktorija turned to him with a sharp look. “No! You will not do that. We need a decisive king. There is no room for your self-pity, Luca. You must be strong for our people. This was not your fault. For once, let the blame fall where it belongs.”
He nodded in agreement and took a deep breath to calm himself. He couldn’t destroy everything. Their people needed a place to remember the evil the former king had wrought and an enduring warning of how far they could fall as a race. To move forward, they needed to address their challenges with a unified front and work together to build their new world.
In the lowest levels of the dungeons, below the corridors large enough for dragons to pass, Luca and Viktorija found a few slaves who had survived the violence. He could feel their fear before he reached them, and he didn’t want to terrorize them further, so he stopped halfway down the passage and called to them.
“It’s Luca and Viktorija. The king is dead. You are safe now. We will be upstairs if you wish to speak with us, and you are free to leave if you choose.” He kept his voice soft and calm, cursing his resemblance to his father.
Luca imagined that seeing him would not bring those people much comfort. It was likely his mother the people needed to see, and they had work to do before that would happen since he couldn’t fix things as easily as his father had destroyed them. Reluctantly turning away, he and Viktorija grimly strode toward the throne room.
When they reached it, they silently stopped in front of the massive doors. Luca extended a hand that only shook a little but couldn’t make himself touch the handle. Stepping through these doors would take something from the siblings that neither would ever get back.
Luca shook himself and squared his shoulders, then took a deep breath for courage. He was now the king, and he did not have the luxury of shirking his duties for the sake of personal comfort. He owed the Therian people the truth about what had happened, and to provide that, he had to go in. He would stand as their witness to the devastation, even though the weight of his duty and the heavy burden of his grief felt like they would crush him.
He couldn’t put off seeing his siblings’ desecrated bodies strewn around like refuse, so he reached for the handle. Before he could pull the door open, Viktorija touched his shoulder, and he felt his sister’s support and strength as she squeezed.
Viktorija’s hand trembled, so he knew she dreaded this as much as he did. He didn’t know how to comfort her since Viktorija didn’t think or act like other people. She’d likely push him away—or through a wall—if he acknowledged what she would think of as weakness, so he leaned into her, taking comfort from the physical contact.
Both felt the emptiness in their family bond. When they were in the same country, it used to buzz with emotions, thoughts, and telepathic messages. Now he could only feel his mother, his sister, his grandfather, and his cousin Niletean.
So much senseless death.
“Are you ready for this?” Viktorija asked, voice quivering.
