And So The Breaking Begins (Mindbreaker Duet #1 | An Age of War and Prophecy #3)
Prologue
***
The chiming of a gilded clock shattered the silence as the male slipped through the halls of Thalvireth Palace. Branches from long-dead trees climbed the walls in a grotesque mimicry of the living, breathing cloud forest beyond the outer gates.
Each footstep against the chilled stone floors sent a spike of pain up the male’s bare feet. Yet he welcomed the sensation, using it to ground himself against what waited for him in the receiving room just ahead.
White-haired sentries in gleaming silver armor watched his approach with stoic impassivity. Yet the ones closest to the door were tense, their shoulders set in firm squares. Voices drifted through cracks in the carved wood.
The male didn’t so much as acknowledge his sister’s guards as he swept between them. They made no move to bar his entry either. They knew exactly why he’d been called to the Korona’s chambers.
He dragged in a calming breath, bracing for the confrontation.
Scarred hands smoothed back his iron-gray hair.
His sister hadn’t given him time to collect himself upon being roused.
Shirtless, with sleeping trousers hung low on his hips, and tousled locks, he was the vision of being dragged from bed and forced into obedience.
He was accustomed to it.
A masculine voice cut the quiet next—the Koron. The male’s hand paused a breath from knocking against the door. That his sister’s husband was also within was a bleak omen.
Forcing his wrist forward, he announced his presence.
Words died on their tongues.
A heartbeat later, air rushed out from within, and the Koron filled the open entry with his large body.
“Took you long enough, Vaeron,” he groused, barely stepping back enough to allow the male inside.
“My apologies,” he muttered, his shoulder bumping into his Koron. Anyone else would suffer a quick death for such insolence.
But the Koron couldn’t kill him. Not with what he could do—what his sister could also do.
Vaeron found her in a state of undress, nightgown slipping off one shoulder.
Knowing her, she’d been trying to seduce her husband, even after the summons.
It was the only thing she knew how to do to survive his exacting standards.
Her brother cleared his throat and pointedly returned his attention to the ruler of the Angels.
The Koron settled into a plush settee and crossed one ankle over a knee. His arms lounged wide, claiming all the space of the creamy cushions. Yet the furious frown contrasted the ease of his posture.
“What’s happened?” Vaeron ventured, ambling toward a thick carpet. The soft strands dug between his toes, offering his soles a modicum of relief from the hard ground.
“The Demons have declared war.”
War. That word struck like a blade to Vaeron’s sternum. The Demons had been escalating their attacks on Angel territory for centuries. The Zahal had drifted through Sivy not three weeks prior, collecting supplies and recruits for the Angel army.
He’d requested Vaeron join him on the front lines. After all, his power, combined with the Zahal’s, could sunder their enemies. Decimate their numbers in rapid succession. Exterminate their race and their dark magic from the continent in the name of the Goddess.
But his sister had refused.
Is she allowing me to leave? he thought, hope rising on feathered wings in his chest.
They were dashed a moment later when she spoke.
“We need all the Seers, now more than ever.” Each syllable rang crisp and measured, like a blade drawn from a silk sheath.
Vaeron’s eyes dipped closed. He knew what she was about to ask him to do.
“You’re the only one who can hunt them down. We know the Elessarum hides one with eyes in icy hues and another with aquamarine, if not more. Thanks to your last raid, of course.” The sweet smile she offered him was anything but.
That was how she operated—a polished exterior with poison waiting beneath.
Vaeron wanted to refuse to imbibe. Loathing curdled in his gut as he swept his gaze over his sister, then let it glide to her husband.
The Koron weighed his brother-by-law like the heavy diamonds he was so fond of.
Even in the middle of the night, a string of them decorated his neck and bare chest. He hadn’t risen to power by being foolish—no, he’d claimed the Angel’s throne through his cunning and blood.
Memories of that time, centuries before, drifted into his mind.
Even then, the Koron had been a creature of strategy.
He’d won favor with thousands through his devotion to the Goddess and Her holy order.
With promises of eradication of their competition on Keleti—the red-eyed Demons.
Since the continents smashed apart, the beasts had relegated themselves to the opposite side of the Skala Mountains, where the land was dry in stark contrast to the lushness of the Angel Realm.
His wife was useful to him with her ability to manipulate memories. He’d give her whatever she wanted so long as she used that power in his name, exactly as he requested. And she was so very obedient.
Her brother on the other hand…
“Vaeron.” The word nipped out, cold and biting. “Your task is imperative. We must know what these devious intruders are going to do. Don’t you want to protect your people?”
The Koron’s head tilted to the side, studying his wife’s kin for the slightest hint of deception.
Vaeron shifted his weight, an ache in his heel from a long-before injury clawing for attention. “Of course,” he managed to grind out. Then, he exhaled, a long, defeated sound. There was no use in protesting. In arguing his magic was more useful elsewhere.
The sounds would fall on ears deaf to anything but their own desires.
His sister’s grin grew. She sat upright, shrugging her dress back into place.
From a pocket on her robe, she pulled out a scroll.
“We got a report of an Elessarum settlement in the lake country. You’ll ride there immediately and capture their Seers.
Kill the less useful ones. We can’t allow peace lovers to live in the midst of war. ”
Vaeron swallowed and snatched the parchment from the Korona. Unfurling it, he glanced over its contents, noting the location and numbers in detail. “I’ll need more than my usual hunters for this.”
“Take whomever you need,” his sister purred, clapping her hands.
The door opened, revealing the sentries stationed outside. “Yes?” the leader asked, bending at the waist.
“See Vaeron’s horse readied. And wake the others!” she commanded.
“Right away, Your Radiance.” He disappeared, along with one of the other guards, down the hall.
The Korona rose from her seat and approached Vaeron. He tensed, attempting not to flinch as she placed her hands on either arm. “What would I ever do without you, brother?”
“I don’t know,” he replied automatically, suppressing his disgust. Emotion was weakness. All feeling had been beaten out of him long before a crown graced his sister’s brow.
She embraced him, then perched on the tips of her toes and kissed him on either cheek. “Go now. Bring my pets home to me.”
The Koron made no move to acknowledge his departure. Ice-blue eyes tracked with hawk-like intent as Vaeron strode from the room and left the two of them behind.
The moment the door closed, he turned to his wife, whose pleasant expression faded like the stars when the sun rose. He gestured for her to join him on the settee.
With a sultry sway of her hips, she approached, straddling his lap and raking her nails down his bare chest. The straps of her gown tumbled, revealing her prominent collarbone and the swell of her breast.
The Koron gripped her waist, dragging her lower on his groin. His hardness pressed into her. “Once we have them, we’ll be able to carry out all my plans.”
“The Goddess will be pleased when Her holiest are gathered under one roof,” his wife murmured her agreement, nose nuzzling his neck.
Wicked satisfaction curled through the Koron as he imagined himself striding through Uzhhorod, the capital of the Demon Realm, with it devoid of their evil lives.
With the Kral’s head on a spike at the gates, and his evil cousins alongside him.
That the female purported herself a Seer was the greatest sin.
One he couldn’t wait to eradicate.
Soon, his life’s mission would be complete.
Extermination of the Demon race.