Vampire Huntress Chronicles Series 4: Complete E-Book Series

Fearghas is the one being I cannot live without. He’s my beacon when the demons of my past try to drag me under.

My hope when all feels hopeless. But the thing about lights is they eventually go out.

And unless I can summon the courage to stand beside him in his darkest moments, my fae will burn.

Perfect for anyone who wants to see what happens when one of the most powerful supernaturals in the world is pushed to their breaking point. If you love Patricia Briggs, Shannon Mayer, McKenzie Hunter, Ilona Andrews, or Nalini Singh, this is right up your alley!

WARNING: Eira's past is a dark one, and there was no way to tell her story without mentioning it. Due to that, this book contains dark themes and mentions of abuse and torture.

WARNING: This excerpt contains mentions of DARK themes. Check synopsis for trigger warnings.

I can’t breathe.

Every intake of oxygen, even as shallow as it is, might as well be sandpaper against the inside of my throat. The very air around me weighs down on my naked, broken body, hundreds of pounds of pressure pinning me to the cold stone beneath me.

Stone that rises up on all sides, keeping me trapped in this tiny, personal hell where they can fetch me when they need my body. My magic.

A sob rips from my chest, though I barely recognize the sound. It’s so much hoarser than my voice, so much dryer. I’ve grown numb to the cold by now, but when they pull me out then plunge me into the warmth again—only to violate my body and lower me back in—I’ll face the uncontrollable shivering that accompanies the climate change.

If only they’d just let me die, already. Except, as twisted as it is, I’d rather be the one plunged into hell than an innocent. After all, I was the one who walked into the monsters’ den.

I’d been a fool. And this is my penance for that mistake.

Sure, they’d spun stories, but I’d devoured them; excited to move into the next phase of my life after being forced to hide what I was for my entire life. I’d been raised on stories of horrific things that had happened to sirens throughout the ages.

Being kidnapped from their cavernous homes and raped by the crews of ships, only to be blamed for the sailors’ untimely destructions. Being harpooned and laid out for the world to gasp and point in horror.

I’d ignored all the warnings. All the stories.

The darkness above me is comforting, at least. See, my nightmares don’t dwell in the night; they walk freely in the day. Loved and adored by all who look to them for guidance.

Something scrapes overhead, and light floods my cell. Curling in on myself, I aim to remain as still as possible because any movement will let them know I’m still breathing. My hope is that maybe if they think I’m dead—if they believe they’ve finally killed me—they’ll just fucking leave me be.

“Hello?”

A masculine voice calls down, but I do not recognize it. That should bring me hope. Maybe someone is here to save me? But I immediately shove that thought away.

My captors, they love to play with me.

So I don’t move.

Don’t breathe.