Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 112500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 563(@200wpm)___ 450(@250wpm)___ 375(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 563(@200wpm)___ 450(@250wpm)___ 375(@300wpm)
From #1 New York Times bestseller Kresley Cole comes a darkly seductive new series where immortal passion collides with ruthless power.
Beyond the mortal world lies the Skein, a realm of mythic beauty and savage desire ruled by creatures of legend. Here, vampires, witches, demons, and wolves wage war―and hunt their pleasures just as fiercely.
Now, the Accession has begun, an ancient cycle of chaos and destiny that reignites old hostilities and forges fated bonds too hot to resist.
A witch queen on the rise defies the brutal wolf king who stands in her way. But when fate twists their battlefield into a bed of temptation, sworn enemies become something far more perilous. Lovers.
A vampire princess trades her crown for freedom, only to be bound to a scarred Berserker, a man whose possessive touch both terrifies and tempts her.
An incubus spy and a cunning vampiress strike a dangerous bargain for survival, and profit, but lust becomes the one gamble neither expected.
And when a wolf and an enchantress from opposing clans dare to make peace, their forbidden attraction could doom the Skein…or spark a love that defies the gods.
Brimming with intrigue, bloody mayhem, and scorching heat, Ravenous plunges readers into the world of Immortals Untold―where magic kills, surrender triumphs, and immortal hungers can never be sated
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Chapter 1
Princess Emilia Vlădescu
Crypt Castle, Kingdom of Bloodreach
You shall bear one hundred babes in one hundred years…
The king’s decree rang through the nearly empty court, tolling in Lia’s ears.
“Why?” she choked out. “Why would you curse me like this?” She’d been perfect, dutiful and compliant for all her twenty-two years.
“Curse?” King Neculain leaned back in his throne. “You will ensure the future of our species. Vampires shall revere your name for eons.”
She usually avoided her father’s gaze, but now Lia forced herself to look up through the haze of bloodroot incense that clung to every stone of this castle. It burned her lungs. Or maybe that was fear. “I don’t understand.”
“The Berserkers will war with us this Accession.” He flashed his fangs, red eyes widening. “They must. Many remain just on the cusp of immortality.”
Those bear-spirit warriors earned immortality through slaughter. Killing was prayer to them.
And vampires were their favorite offering—payback long owed, a debt written in arterial spray.
“I can’t fathom why they haven’t already stormed this rich castle.” Neculain cast a disgusted look at his oldest son and heir, Prince Coștin, who stood beside his throne. “Under your watch, the army has faded in number and strength. You think I don’t know what outsiders call you? The General of Nothing! We are the great Horde no longer.”
Coștin rested his hand on the golden sword at his side, his own eyes reddened like banked embers. Though he was a decent swordsman—a rarity—he ruled nothing, not even his own appetites.
And Father wasn’t wrong. Training halls stood empty while the vampires drowned in blood orgies and intoxispells. Even their teleportation had withered, lost to decadence.
But in fairness to her monstrous brother, the rot had festered long before his birth five centuries ago.
Coștin’s attention locked on her again. As he stared, he sliced his tongue on a fang. Eyes promising horror, he hollowed his cheeks and nursed his own blood.
She shuddered. Will I never be free of his threat?
He believed she was his destined Bride. Lia hadn’t awakened his dead heart, but he’d decided she was too young to “blood” him.
Unlike all their fair-haired siblings, she and Coștin resembled each other as closely as fraternal twins—the same pale skin, black hair, and amber eyes, though bloodlust tainted his. Perhaps he’d fixated on her due to her likeness: because his truest obsession had always been himself.
She’d been fourteen when he’d first tried to kiss her. Against her neck, he’d grunted, You are everything to me, sprung from the same womb and seed. As she thrashed, he’d commanded her, Wake my body, soră mea, so I can use it on you.
“When the Berserker attack comes,” Father continued, oblivious, “you’ll be safe in the blood crypt.”
This snapped Lia’s focus from Coștin. “You’re going to…to seal me in?” Deep beneath the castle lay a cave no force could breach, its stone walls weeping endless blood. “For how long?”
“Until the birth of your hundredth. Until our elite army is complete.”
Lia rocked on her feet. Would she be maddened by the twentieth babe? The fiftieth? She’d be only halfway done! “This is insane. Insects have fewer offspring!”
“This is my will. And you shall heed it.”
No courtiers witnessed his decree—only Coștin, Queen Sereth, and the blank-eyed donors that slumped against the wall.
Sereth sat in her throne beside Neculain’s like a soulless doll, smoothing her blond hair.
“Mother,” Lia said, voice breaking, “please, you can’t let him.”
Sereth gave a testy sigh. “He’s the king.”
Blood tears pricked Lia’s eyes. Her mother had been a broodmare too—fourteen children in five hundred years—and had never resisted her fate. Hadn’t even pretended to want more. “Who will accompany me?” Lia demanded of her father, swiping away tears. “Do I get to pick which stud violates me?” She had never dreamed of speaking to him this way, but what did she have to lose?
Irritation crossed Neculain’s sharp features, his black brows knitting. “I will choose noble males. You’ll test the first babe. If it lacks your gift, you’ll mate with another.”
Her cursed “gift” was exactly the reason she shouldn’t be locked in the crypt!
Coștin frowned. So he hadn’t known. Or worse—thought he should be the sire.
Lia told her father, “I’m not yet fixed into my immortal form, can’t even regenerate. Childbirth could kill me.”
“With my lineage, you will be hardy.” He planned to cage and breed his youngest child like an animal, like the blood donors.
Her gaze flicked to them. They donate nothing. Covered in bite marks, the Berserker mortals sagged against the far wall of the court, made docile with intoxicants.
Everyone in her family drank from them except her. Spittoons lined the walls to receive flesh if a bite landed too deep. Which often killed the Berserkers.
Her mother was infamous for those deaths, had reddened her eyes without ever hunting. Some whispered that she dreamed her victims’ bloodborne memories like stolen prayers.