offspring meant to the kingdom.
And then the clouds grew darker, the scrolls grew heavier, and the glyphs became enigmatically dense. She watched as Prince Jaegar grew into manhood and the madness descended upon him. She literally saw the dark, inky roots of demonic suggestions take hold in his mind. She watched his soul turn black, his bloodlust peak, and she shivered with the awareness of what was to come: an insatiable thirst for power amplified by malevolent pride; a ravenous hunger for supremacy, born of the desire to be like the gods; and an army of envious males who would sacrifice their own women—their mothers, sisters, and daughters—in a tainted grasp for control. She could hear the maniacal voices that whispered in their heads, incessantly bidding them to kill…kill… kill .
Jessenia watched as the kingdom reacted far too slowly to Jaegar’s rise to power, failing to grasp the full breadth of his plan, the full depth of his evil, until it was far too late. She held her breath as, one by one, she observed the males—those who were not yet corrupt, those who had not yet shed blood—coalesce around Prince Jadon in order to form a resistance.
The resistance had been too weak.
Too late.
Too finite.
And then, just like that, the past and the present merged into the future, and Jessenia’s eyes grew wide with the wonder—and the horror—and the magic of what unfolded before her:
B lood …
As far as the eye could see.
It consumed the moon, the skies, and the rivers…
Everything was tainted by the b lood of the slain .
And somehow, in a desperate act of retribution, in an all-consuming haze of madness, the b lood had its final reckoning: The collective crimson soul of the murdered females rose up like a phoenix from the ashes, clawed its way out of torture and pain, and curse d the houses of Jadon and Jaegar, all the while desecrating the original religion and forever altering the future…
I nfinitum .
Jessenia shuddered as she beheld the Curse.
As she tried to grasp the twisted reasoning of the females as they doled out the males’ punishment:
Sin for sin.
Blood for blood.
Life for life.
The accursed were forced to roam the earth in darkness as creatures of the night.
They were condemned to feed on the blood of the innocent and stripped of their ability to produce female offspring.
They were damned to father twin sons by human hosts who would die wretchedly upon giving birth, and the firstborn of the first set would forever be required as a sacrifice of atonement for their fathers’ pagan sins.
And last, but not least, they were banished from their ancient Romanian homeland, never to dwell in the mountains of Transylvania again.
The scope of the Curse was inconceivable.
The repercussions were unimaginable.
A nd dear goddess of mercy , it was placed upon the sinners’ sons—and the offspring of those sons—and all the progeny who would be born thereafter, without clemency, without reprieve…without end.
If Jessenia had been standing on solid ground, she would have staggered backward, but as it was, she could only remain in ethereal form, flowing with the vision, gawking and listening as she watched Prince Jadon fall upon his knees and beg the Blood for mercy.
As she listened to his haunted plea for grace.
Incredibly, the Blood heard his cry, or at least it found sincerity in his argument, because it offered Prince Jadon—and his line of descendants, alone—four incredible mercies:
Although they would still be creatures of the night, they would be allowed to walk in the sun. Although they would still be required to live on blood, they would not be forced to take the lives of the innocent. While they would never produce female children, they would be given one opportunity —o ver thirty days — to obtain a mate, a human destiny chosen by the gods. And the woman would be marked by an emblem on her wrist that would match a sign in the heavens.
Although they would still be
And then the clouds grew darker, the scrolls grew heavier, and the glyphs became enigmatically dense. She watched as Prince Jaegar grew into manhood and the madness descended upon him. She literally saw the dark, inky roots of demonic suggestions take hold in his mind. She watched his soul turn black, his bloodlust peak, and she shivered with the awareness of what was to come: an insatiable thirst for power amplified by malevolent pride; a ravenous hunger for supremacy, born of the desire to be like the gods; and an army of envious males who would sacrifice their own women—their mothers, sisters, and daughters—in a tainted grasp for control. She could hear the maniacal voices that whispered in their heads, incessantly bidding them to kill…kill… kill .
Jessenia watched as the kingdom reacted far too slowly to Jaegar’s rise to power, failing to grasp the full breadth of his plan, the full depth of his evil, until it was far too late. She held her breath as, one by one, she observed the males—those who were not yet corrupt, those who had not yet shed blood—coalesce around Prince Jadon in order to form a resistance.
The resistance had been too weak.
Too late.
Too finite.
And then, just like that, the past and the present merged into the future, and Jessenia’s eyes grew wide with the wonder—and the horror—and the magic of what unfolded before her:
B lood …
As far as the eye could see.
It consumed the moon, the skies, and the rivers…
Everything was tainted by the b lood of the slain .
And somehow, in a desperate act of retribution, in an all-consuming haze of madness, the b lood had its final reckoning: The collective crimson soul of the murdered females rose up like a phoenix from the ashes, clawed its way out of torture and pain, and curse d the houses of Jadon and Jaegar, all the while desecrating the original religion and forever altering the future…
I nfinitum .
Jessenia shuddered as she beheld the Curse.
As she tried to grasp the twisted reasoning of the females as they doled out the males’ punishment:
Sin for sin.
Blood for blood.
Life for life.
The accursed were forced to roam the earth in darkness as creatures of the night.
They were condemned to feed on the blood of the innocent and stripped of their ability to produce female offspring.
They were damned to father twin sons by human hosts who would die wretchedly upon giving birth, and the firstborn of the first set would forever be required as a sacrifice of atonement for their fathers’ pagan sins.
And last, but not least, they were banished from their ancient Romanian homeland, never to dwell in the mountains of Transylvania again.
The scope of the Curse was inconceivable.
The repercussions were unimaginable.
A nd dear goddess of mercy , it was placed upon the sinners’ sons—and the offspring of those sons—and all the progeny who would be born thereafter, without clemency, without reprieve…without end.
If Jessenia had been standing on solid ground, she would have staggered backward, but as it was, she could only remain in ethereal form, flowing with the vision, gawking and listening as she watched Prince Jadon fall upon his knees and beg the Blood for mercy.
As she listened to his haunted plea for grace.
Incredibly, the Blood heard his cry, or at least it found sincerity in his argument, because it offered Prince Jadon—and his line of descendants, alone—four incredible mercies:
Although they would still be creatures of the night, they would be allowed to walk in the sun. Although they would still be required to live on blood, they would not be forced to take the lives of the innocent. While they would never produce female children, they would be given one opportunity —o ver thirty days — to obtain a mate, a human destiny chosen by the gods. And the woman would be marked by an emblem on her wrist that would match a sign in the heavens.
Although they would still be
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