SapphirePeter

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

Twelve hours passed before Zeda saw Kamaz again. She had shocked him with her request and he had mumbled some words as an excuse and left her in the tub. 


She came out from the room in search of him after she had sent him numerous messages and he had not responded to any. She had also called him and it was the same. 


If not because she knew his words in the tub had been genuine, she would have thought he had made it up on the spot so that they wouldn’t have had to continue. 


She had a shawl wrapped around her shoulders as she made her way down the stairs. There had been no one in the hallway, and she didn’t run into anyone on the stairs. Strange! 


She arrived at the Grand Hall, which usually had someone either lying around looking depressed or a small group of persons talking, and there was no one in sight. 


She was feeling lightly stretched and about to go back up the stairs when she heard a sound, and it seemed to be coming from outside. 


THE PROGRESSING WAR