The 13th Prophecy (32 page)

Authors: H.M. Ward

BOOK: The 13th Prophecy

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Collin pulled back, examining the expression on my face, the smile that lingered on my lips and the tears in the corners of my eyes. “What are you thinking?”

“I love you with all my soul, Collin Smith.” I pressed my lips to his gently, tasting him with a flick of my tongue. Collin wrapped his arms around me tightly, deepening the kiss, and took my breath away.

ASSASSIN: FALL OF THE GOLDEN VALEFAR

is
a Demon Kissed spin-off series that will be released Summer 2012.

Turn the page to read a free sample of

STONE PRISON

It’s a
dark tale like the fables of old, with a twist.

STONE PRISON

Twisted Tales #1

By H.M. Ward

CHAPTER ONE

The sky was dark the night my father was killed. The servants had just lit the nightlights, and the flames flickered happily in our windows. I was barely two-years-old when it happened, but I remember everything. I remember the sticky night air that was dripping with the scent of honeysuckle. I remember hearing the hushed whispers of frantic servants. The noises carried through the house making the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I remember the sound of my father’s footfalls crossing to open the door.

An unnatural silence filled the house as the door creaked opened. Then, I heard her voice. It was sweet like honey, promising everything and asking nothing. It drew me from beneath my covers. I had to see the face that went with that voice. As I padded across my room, Father hushed her, and forced her outside our home. Dressed in a white nightgown, I stood at my window shrouded in darkness. I stood on the tips of my tiny toes to peer over the ledge.

The shadows painted a pattern of black lace across her form, but I could still tell that she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Thick golden hair fell in long waves beneath the hood of her black cloak. As she spoke, full ruby red lips shone like they were covered with dew. Her skin was like that of a fine doll’s—perfectly smooth. But her eyes were angry. As they spoke, the woman became more agitated. Her beautiful face contorted with rage.

The only thing I heard my father say was, “No.” He wasn’t unkind. It didn’t sound like he was chastising one of the servants, or rebuking her. He sounded pained, like he didn’t want to say the word. But he did.

That single word shattered my world.

Before he finished speaking, the woman lunged at my father. One fist was at her waist, while the other hand grabbed my father’s shoulder. She looked into his eyes, as she thrust the blade into his stomach and twisted. Scarlet poured from the wound, spattering on the dirt at his feet. The woman released him. Without a sound, my father fell to the ground, dead. Before my tiny lips could scream, the woman’s gaze turned upward to my little body, watching from the window.

I disappeared from my home that night. Not a soul saw the woman pluck me from the window, and carry me to the stone tower deep in the woods. Every night since, I dreamt of a beautiful woman stabbing my father. Every night was the same. The screams that no one shrieked the night of his death rang out deafeningly loud in my dreams, waking me with my heart beating so fast that I thought it would burst. The dreams did not cease. And I grew older, alone, locked away from the rest of the world, with a murderer as my only companion.

CHAPTER TWO

“Blood is power,” the old woman said. Her golden hair had faded long ago. The sun had been unkind, weathering her skin like an old hide. She had trudged up the long staircase to my room at the top of the stone tower. Fifteen years passed since the night her horrific shadow first crossed my path. The old woman’s hunched form gasped for air, and she lowered herself into a chair.

The hag’s ancient gray eyes were listless. She sat across from me like we were old friends, though we were not. Staring at her gnarled hands, I remembered seeing them smooth and covered in blood. It was impossible to forget. That moment was etched into my mind, like acid burning away metal, for eternity. That dark memory crushed all happy ones. I couldn’t remember Father’s
laughter,
or the sparkle of his eyes when he spoke. I couldn’t remember his warm voice and strong touch. All of that was gone, stolen by the woman who sat across from me.

The witch.

The old sorceress wrung her hands, and took a deep breath. This was the only night out of the year that I was allowed a small amount of freedom. It was my birthday, but that wasn’t the reason I was allowed to venture from her side. The reason I was permitted to leave my stone prison was due to someone else’s birth—the Crown Prince’s. Each year the royal family held a ball to celebrate his birth. And every year the witch forced me to attend.

However, that tiny bit of freedom came at a price. The only way I was allowed to attend was if I took things from the castle, if I stole. The penalty for theft was severe in this kingdom. A guard who caught me had the right to severe my hand at the wrist. If I was caught a second time, my head would be severed at the neck. And theft from the palace was a higher risk. There were more guards to see me steal. I risked much in doing this, but it was worth the risk.

The witch taught me how to take things and evade the guard’s detection. I became more than adept as I grew. No one suspected me. A governess trailed behind me, until I found what I needed. And the witch usually asked for things that wouldn’t be missed—like a lock of hair, a piece of cloth, or some other discarded, worthless, item. She collected these things and stored them under lock and key in the wooden cabinet. I expected that this year would not be different. She would require me to take something that wouldn’t be missed, and send a governess to trail along behind me.

But my assumption was wrong.

The witch licked her withered lips. They were so chapped that they bled in the corners, making it appear as if she had sores on her mouth. “This night is more important than the previous balls. This night you will steal the object I seek and then your future, and mine, will be secure. The item I require will bring us much. You will take it for me and return home before midnight.” She paused, looking at me with her withered lips pulled into a tight smile. “If you do as I say, there will be enough endless beauty, unsurpassed riches, and power to last a lifetime.”

Those things were foreign to me, though I knew she craved them. I’d been locked in a tower, shunned for a lifetime. And on the nights I was allowed out, I still had to return before midnight. The witch made certain that I was always locked in the tower by the twelfth toll of the night bells. To most people, midnight marks a new day that brings new hope.
But not me.
I was always acutely aware of the twelfth chime. There was a stirring within me that seemed to long for something, but I didn’t know what. It only appeared at that hour and vanished instantly as I sat alone, staring at stone walls from my pillow.

Then the morning would come, and rays of sunlight would spill across the cold floor. Most days I stared out the window that was too small to throw myself through. I know because I tried. It would have been more bearable to plummet from the tower than to endure another day of confinement. I dreamed of walking among people again, and staying with them past the eleventh hour. I dreamt of a normal life, just another content peasant in a vast kingdom.

But the witch had other plans.

I glared at her. So many thoughts rushed through my mind. If I could only be free from her. I’d tried to run away several times. And each time ended with the same hard-learned lesson. No one can escape from the witch.
Ever.
I could tell from her posture, from the wringing of her
hands, that
this night mattered more to her. This night was unlike the others, but a single facet remained the same.

I was to leave at the eleventh hour.

Her
gray eyes seemed to come to life as she spoke. “For too long, our kind have not been welcome there, Ella. For too long we have toiled amongst the stones and forests trying to claim a life worth living, like wild animals.
But no more.
After tonight, things will change.”

~STONE PRISON IS ON SALE NOW~

VAMPIRE APCOLYPSE

BOOK #1: BANE

The world as we know it is gone. The ice caps have melted and shifted south, devastating the northern territories and eradicating major cities such as New York and London, which are now under water and frozen. Humans died off during an epidemic prior to the ice disaster, and many more died during the floods at the start of this new ice age.

These events have forced vampires out of hiding. In order to ensure that their food source wouldn't completely die off, the vampires have sequestered the remaining humans into farms and taken control of all that remains of civilization. Over time, the humans breeding on these farms became anemic. Their blood no longer sustains the master race.

But not all of the humans were captured and sent to the farms. Some of the humans evaded the hunters, hiding in safe houses across the frozen tundra. As decades passed, the free humans disappeared, died, or were captured, until all that remains is one.

Kahli
is the last wild human. BANE is her story.

COMING APRIL 15, 2012

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