It is almost time for Shadowed Intentions to go live, and don't forget to come party with us Saturday. There will be so many chances to win shiny prizes.
Until then read where the Opsona Series starts.
***Content Below is for Adults 18+***
Opsona Journey Series Book One
Thick black clouds carried along the lake’s breeze greeted us as we stood above the small valley, looking down on the next in the long line of unfortunate cities. Another part of the larger conquest to reclaim the mortal plane for the once powerful Vampire Nation, and aid in my master’s growing status among the lords. His wrath would consume this land just like the storm rushing in from the water’s edge, welcoming us and our darkness to the land of milk and honey. A natural reaction to our unnatural presence. Perfection now infected with our wrongness, our disease of death. If the people of Tentusa were smart they would spot our silhouettes against the setting sun, close the gates, and raise the flag of war.
They wouldn’t. No one ever did. My master was so cunning and he had me, his faithful yet reluctant servant that would do anything for him. Not because I adore him, admire him, or even fear him, but because my mind would allow me to do nothing more. This white stone city that glowed against the darkening clouds would have to fall because of what I lack. It would crumble like the many that had come before it, shift into rubble slowly, painfully until my master could lay complete claim to it.
This mortal world was two steps out of the Great Dark-Age that had left it in disarray. Advancements in magical combat, weaponry, and the way of living had halted a decade ago when war spread across the lands. Each province engaged in battle that was antagonized by a warlord demon. This plane that existed in neutral space between the territory of the Underworld and the Ethereal planes of the divine was coveted. The mortals would know their dark ages as war times, of senseless killing in the name of some great leader or king. In reality it was the will of darker creatures to take control of their world in the hopes of infecting the unreachable spaces of the heavens just beyond. These years following that time were to be golden and peaceful, full of thriving advancements and intellectual growth, but instead our darkness was creeping through the fractured boundaries between the planes the wars had caused. Allowing our nation new opportunities to take control of this mortal world.
“Drink,” my master whispered against my ear. His closeness was not required, with my senses I could hear that whisper from the next world yet he demanded the close contact.
A scent of bitterly sweet vanilla passed on the breeze mixed with a faint iron note. Blood, his blood. The crimson gift he only gave to his most trusted and loyal minions. What they didn’t know, his loyal subjects, was that it enabled his complete control of them. Though Vondorian, Lord of the warrior elite vampires known as the Vamdari, had no need to control his subjects. They all adored him, worshipped him, and in some cases lusted for even a single glance of their admired Lord. Except me.
“Drink!” he growled, this time sending his voice ringing through my sensitive ears. His perfectly tanned wrist flew into view, bright red liquid oozing out of the gash he had created in otherwise flawless skin.
“I don’t need it.” My reply was disobedient, filled with edge as my fangs ached under my gums. My body so aware of his firm chest just inches from my back, the long unruly strands of raven-colored hair that dangled free down the length of my back danced against the subtle breeze. Moving between my master’s toned, sinful body and the smaller curved female frame that crafted mine. I heard him inhale as the breeze brushed through my hair again, and that bitterly sweet scent of his assaulted me with a hunger and need for his blood, his touch.
Thick strong fingers laced into my long black hair, the touch so soft before the grip tightened on the strands, yanking my head back. The harsh way he commanded my body had ignited desire that hardened my nipples and caused an ache for more sensual violence.
“I will not have you faltering,” he hissed. “I know the draw this land has on you, and I will not compete for your loyalty.”
Master knew me well, so much better than I could ever understand myself. This place was once my home, a place I had swore to protect even as an innocent child. Our travels had taken us up from the southwest across the snowcapped mountains that divided Tentusa from the rest of the kingdom. A familiar sense of home had overtaken me once we descended into the lush valley littered with farms that eased into large rolling hills of tall lemon grass, before dipping down into the valley before us where Tentusa nestled against the vast lake of Rouren. In my former life the temple that lay in the city walls was my whole world. This land wedged in the northern part of the kingdom was—is—sacred ground. Gods and goddesses placed their feet upon these grassy fields and some considered it the looking glass of the heavenly world, a reflection that joined the mortal plane to that of higher beings. Whatever this place actually was Master was right, it did have a draw for me.
“Now drink before I make you!”
He jerked my head back even more ripping at the strands of hair he tangled among his relentless fingers. To lose a handful of hair was nothing, but the allure of his blood and the tantalizing pain I could not ignore. Not with his scent so strong, my need so great, and my fangs burning inside my mouth. His wrist didn’t make it to my lips before I latched on, sweet bitter vanilla exploded in my mouth. Every natural and unnatural sense in my body sparked to life, need pooling in my core for more of him. More of everything he could offer. His voice pierced through my mental walls whispering to me seductive promises as I feasted on his immortal power.
This was my undoing. With Vondorian’s blood coursing through my body I would not be able to refuse him. It was the collar around my neck labeling me as his and his alone. His life force made my senses strong, but it made my will weak.
His grip in my hair eased until his fingers traced through the long raven strands, smoothing out the damage he had done. As if the gesture could right every wrong he had ever done to me. An involuntary moan escaped my lips as I suckled at his flesh.
“That’s my girl,” he whispered aloud instead of inside my weakening mind.
This is the last time.
I lied to myself like I did every time he forced his blood on me. I couldn’t stop the creature inside me, the thing he had put there, from craving him.
The satin of my hair brushed against the exposed crook of my neck offering it to the coming night. Cool chilling lips pressed against the warmed skin sending a thrill through my body, causing it to respond in a way I couldn’t allow. My fangs retracted and I ripped from his grasp nearly stumbling to my knees, dizzy from his intoxicating power.
“One day,” he warned from behind my trembling body. “One day you will no longer have the will to fight me.” I could sense his smirk, that evil one he gave when he knew it all came down to the passage of time. Vampires as old as him knew the value of patience. He could wait centuries. Could my will last that long?
Lightening broke the coming darkness of night, thunder followed. Small droplets of rain cooled my heated body that coursed with the vampire lord’s blood, bonding me to him. The gods’ protest had begun.
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