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Release Date: 26 MAY, 2016
Prince Daymon is an Evoker—possessor of rare and feared magical powers.
When he is captured by bandits who plan to use his gifts for their own benefit he must depend upon his lover to come to his rescue.
Rhyder is captain of Daymon’s personal guard and the legendary ‘Lion of the West’, but can he reach the man he loves before it’s too late?
To view the Book Trailer, click HERE
PRINCE DAYMON CAME to with a stifled moan, pain dragging him back to unwelcome awareness. His entire body throbbed, but he kept his eyes closed, not wanting to be greeted with the sight of a bare cell or the bruises where he had been struck. The cold had numbed him to some of the damage, but he could tell without looking that several fingers were likely broken. Instead, he fixed his mind on what he had been dreaming of only moments ago.
Daymon did not remember his mother well, but he knew what she looked like from the portraits his older brother, Daylor, had kept. From his mother, Daymon had inherited hair as fine and dark as ink and eyes a deep blue, when both his father and his brother were golden-haired with eyes close to amber in color. Where they were tall, broad-shouldered, and olive-skinned like most of his ancestors, Daymon stood several inches shorter than nearly every other grown male he could name, his slight build and pale complexion further marking him as more his mother’s child than his father’s—as though anyone needed reminding. And yet, despite being too young to recall his mother’s voice, or so he thought, Daymon could have sworn he had heard her whisper to him. Just a little longer, the words had tickled past his ear. Just a little longer, and he will come for you. How could he not? But the sensation of his head being held, the fingers brushing softly through his hair, had vanished as soon as Daymon had woken, and although he had never really known her, he felt her absence now as keenly as though she had truly been with him.
He will come for you. Daymon’s good fingers stole up to his left ear, feeling the shape of the small jewel still threaded through the lobe and then the right, empty one. Rhyder was as strong and as fierce as all the stories said and as stubborn a man as Daymon had ever known. Once Rhyder had decided on something, there was no stopping him—and Rhyder had decided on Daymon. It didn’t matter if his father did nothing, too paralyzed by paranoia or drink to break his self-imposed confinement. It didn’t matter if Daylor, torn between genuine love for his brother and his strong sense of filial duty towards their father, was likewise unable or forbidden to act. Rhyder would come—if Daymon believed in nothing else, he would believe in this. It was the only thing left for him to believe. Where Daymon fell short of anything resembling strong or heroic, Rhyder was everything a hero should have been, and more. Where Daymon’s courage failed him, Rhyder’s would never waver.
“I’m sorry. Rhyder, I’m sorry….” The apology was as much for himself as it was for Rhyder, for his isolation, combined with the surrounding darkness, conjured to mind half-remembered fears from long ago. Yet perhaps, even now, his valiant captain was making his way here. Perhaps he was already nearby, and merely waiting for the right moment to strike. Perhaps—
The door to Daymon’s cell burst open with a high-pitched squeal, and Daymon held himself still, determined at least not to flinch away. He owed Rhyder that much. I’m not afraid, he told himself silently. I’m not afraid at all. You can hurt me all you want, but Rhyder is coming, and I won’t be afraid.
He only wished the last part were true.
To view the Book Trailer, click HERE