Lord Ragnar Kamazotz is a vampire and the first ever of his kind.
The beast in him only recognizes the tune of one lady…his Zeda. 
In his earliest years, she was the only person that could calm him down or get him close to sanity with the help of her instrument.

All that stopped when she was gruesomely murdered by the greedy members of the royal family. He slayed everyone involved but he was never himself again. 
He survived by relying on The Prophecy that promised her coming back.
Seven centuries later, he meets her again and his world is at peace until scenes from the ancient days rise up in this present one, threatening to kill her…again!

People called her his poison but he called her ‘his Antidote”.
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“I remember…I remember you now my love” Zelda said as more tears fell from her eyes as she looked at the man who had suffered through centuries seeking her return.
Kamaz was tongue tied…overwhelmed and his heart rate was faster than normal.
She remembers…

“I missed you so much Zeda” Kamaz said and Zeda lifted her hand to his face and he leaned into her small hand.
“I missed you badl..” Kamaz wanted to continue but the rest of his words were buried in Zeda’s mouth.
She had stood on her toes and slid her hands around his neck, dragging him to her level and placing her lips on his.
Kamaz was stunned but not for long…
He lifted her petite frame from her thighs and wrapped her around his waist for their heads to be at the same level and tears fell off their eyes as they kissed - pouring all of them into that soul uniting and heart joining kiss.
She moved herself impossibly closer to him, making him second guess his decision of taking things slowly with her.

“Quinzi toman,” Kamazotz groaned as their scents tangled.

The Vampire King's Only Antidote

It was in the middle of the night and the person had come in through one of my windows. Mr Ragnar must not have been satisfied with Julian's report- a human - and so he had sent one of his kind. 


I had myself covered till underneath my breasts. I placed the plastered arm on top of the blanket I used to cover myself while my good hand was underneath, holding a gun. 


I had blackmailed one of those guards to give me his gun. He was very skeptical about it, but knowing his job was at stake, he surrendered it. 


That's one thing about one bad deed. One bad deed may not be just ‘one’ because you might need to commit other deeds to make up for it. 


The person picked up my injured arm and began to examine it and that was when I decided to attack. 


Since the person wasn't expecting me to be awake, I pulled the person with my injured arm to the bed. I rolled over the person. 


A CERTAIN PLACE