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

I am not a queen because I rule, I rule because I am THE QUEEN. 


Birthed in my heart. Alive in my veins… 


For the first time in his twenty eight years of living, Prince Commander Zorgan was confined to a solitary cell within the palace. 


At the stroke of midnight, he awoke with a groan. Two soldiers stood watch outside and a maid sat nearby, her presence a silent vigil. 


‘‘Do you require anything My Lord?’’ She inquired upon noticing his awakening. 


He scoffed inwardly, recognizing the Queen’s gesture as a hollow attempt at compassion. 


‘‘Bottles of liquor, as many as you can carry,’’ he replied knowing what awaited him by dawn. 


Though she found his request most unusual, the maid complied without delay. 


At daybreak, when all had recovered from the long night, Zorgan was escorted to the Royal Scourge Sanctum – a court reserved for the judgement of nobles and Royals. 


EYES THAT KNEW