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BaliorAvdaci, the Sanguine Regent of Lyrisa and a Prince of Relicium, slowly descended the marble staircase of his new home. ‘New’ was a term he used quite loosely to describe the decrepit castle where he would dwell henceforth. An oracle had convinced his father, King Jorin, that Lyrisa was where he might find his mate. The oracle had neglected to say how long it might take him to find her in this sprawling village or whether or not she was even yet to be born. He’d been skeptical, resentful even, until he’d neared the village several nights ago and scented his mate on the air. Her fragrance called to him like a beacon and yet she was all around. He couldn’t pinpoint her exact location, but she was near. Somewhere here in Lyrisa. And she lived. He felt his hardened heart swell slightly at the idea that somewhere just beyond the stone walls of this rambling castle, with its endless corridors and numberless rooms, his Fated female awaited him. She would run to him with open arms, eager to staunch the spread of the darkness Ankara escort that thrived within him. Each day he’d been forced to spend without her, each hour of his long and relentless existence away from her soothing presence was dangerous to his soul. The longer he went without his mate, the better the chance that he would Fall, forsaking all honor and losing all respect for that life-giving substance that was so revered by his people. Blood. He craved it even now. They all did. But if he were to Fall, he would not only crave its nourishment, he would become addicted to the process by which he procured it. He would take too much, killing his prey as he took from them what they would have freely given. And they would hunt him. His own brothers. His father. His family. And his female would be left to wander this realm without him by her side. So much at stake, and yet each day he found himself caring less and less about the consequences save for one. Her. He would never let Ankara escort bayan her suffer. He would find and protect her, then spend the rest of this life and any that might follow cherishing her. She would know no pain with him. Only pleasure. Only joy. Only happiness. Even from a distance, even though he didn’t know who she was, she was saving him. A treasure he did not yet possess and still she was already invaluable to him. His heart had ached much over the week long journey to this village where mountains and sea met. He had visions of her running. Running away. From him? In fear? No, in sheer terror. He couldn’t get his mind around it. Usually, when he had visions, they were clear as day – both in how he saw and interpreted them. But these visions of his mate brought him anything but clarity. He could see her, and yet he couldn’t. While in the heat of the vision he marveled at her beauty, drinking in every detail of her, but when he came out of it he could not recall anything Escort Ankara about her. Only that she was truly beautiful. He also felt her despair, her anguish and he understood that she held herself away from him because he was unknown to her. But to be so terrified of him? It meant only one thing. She was human. She had to be. And this posed a whole new set of problems, ones that he was scarcely willing to fathom until he actually had her in his grasp. He’d cross that bridge when he got to it, so to speak. “Are you ready, my liege?” Balior’s Head Guard and best friend, Maksim Vikenti, implored from the bottom of the staircase. Maksim was nearly as old as Balior and the two had grown up together. While Balior was the son of one of the highest royal houses in the Curia, Maksim was the bastard of a Cloak Demon and a Rania, a type of fire deity. His kind wasn’t officially welcome in the Curia, but Maksim’s place, high in the eyes of the Sanguines, afforded him much in the way of respect. His dark blonde hair, which concealed a pair of tawny horns, and storm grey eyes were the talk of nearly every single female in the Curia. He was the forbidden fruit and was happy to be sampled by any female who wanted a taste. In other words –well, in the words of Balior – he was a slut. Balior sneered at his friend.

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