The saddle of the crown in his hands was far less than the price it would cost not to wear it. It should have been fashioned from spikes for the yoke it would become in his life if he didn’t wear it. Yet it might be an exchange he must make for the safety of his kingdom and to fulfill his promise to her.
Crashing waves far below the fortress walls in his Ancientrovan asylum didn’t lighten up King Fehr Eric Andromeda Rahl’s straying thoughts as the nagging feeling that had bothered him all morning persisted.
It has been a century since she died and left a hole in his heart, his human mate —that is if vampires had one.
He killed her. He hadn’t meant to.
“Tell me your darkest fantasy, Rahl.” She had murmured against his ear one night, gently raking her teeth across the lobe.