Favor: The Kresova Vampire Harems: Lyra
Favor
The Kresova Vampire Harems: Lyra Book One
Graceley Knox
D.D. Miers
Chaotic Press, LLC
Favor Copyright © 2018 by Graceley Knox & D.D. Miers
All rights reserved.
All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.
Edited by: Lorraine Fico-White - Magnifico Manuscripts
Cover Design by: Rebecca Frank
Black. This is my heart.
Never to be touched. Never to be tasted. Never to truly live.
Praise for Graceley Knox & D.D. Miers
“The dawn of a new age of vampire.” - Crafting Geeky Bibliophile
"Thirst is the first in a new series from the writing team of Graceley Knox and D. D. Miers. Whatever they are doing, they are doing it right because Thirst had me riveted." - Tome Tender Book Blog
"The premise for Thirst is so unique... And these aren't just vampires, they are Kresova." - IB Book Blogging
"A CRAZY, WILD, INSANE RIDE THAT KEPT ME ON THE LEDGE" - Marie's Tempting Reads
“If you haven’t read any books by Graceley Knox or D. D. Miers well get busy because you are missing out on two very gifted story weavers!" - Goodreads Reviewer
Contents
Praise for Graceley Knox & D.D. Miers
The Kresova
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Dear Reader,
Also By Graceley Knox & D.D. Miers
About the Authors
The Kresova
Blood.
The source of life—and the emblem of death.
For humans and vampires alike, blood determines the difference between survival or doom. For the ancient race of Kresova vampires, blood spilled in a centuries-old feud has forever changed the course of their future.
Many may know their name, and books may tell their stories, but little truth is actually known about those who stalk the night—especially by the vampires themselves—and the vicious Kresova queen plans to keep it that way.
She kills without prejudice. Eliminates anyone whose existence threatens her rule. Through fear and violence and her unmatched ability to anticipate her enemies, she’s secured her reign.
She’s thought of everything.
Done everything.
But her plan is flawed.
She didn’t prepare for her . . . for them.
Prologue
Ireland, 1020
11th Century.
The uneven earth beneath me jolts and my head smacks into the side of the wagon—again. I crack my eyes open from a restless sleep, expecting sunlight but instead I’m greeted by another gloomy gray sky. The same sky that’s dominated most of my passage to my new home.
No, not home. My new prison.
It’s only a prison if you survive, stupid. And survival isn’t likely.
The glamour of Paris drifted away as we crossed the turbulent sea and landed on the coast. Now I’m surrounded by the wild rolling hills of Ireland. I’ve never know anything but France or the conniving ways of the Parisian Court. Now a damp wind assaults my face as we cross along the Irish coastline. The grass is so green, it practically glows, and though I’m here against my will, there’s something quiet and tranquil about this land.
The gnawing in my belly grows, not for food, but blood. The blood I’ve been withheld in order to weaken me. That’s how she wants it.
She, as in Morana, the Kresova heretic who stole my father from me.
Again, my mind returns to the moment, only two years ago, when my life changed.
Morana, once my father’s most devout disciple, is now his most vicious enemy. It only took her two-minutes to storm through my father’s guard and overtake him.
She shouldn’t have been able to do it. My father holds a thousand years on her. He has strength and power Morana can’t contend with. And yet now, he lies slack against her chest, as vulnerable as a babe, as she drinks every ounce she can steal from him.
His eyes are trained on mine, the fight in him all but gone as he seeks me out in my secret hiding place behind the throne wall.
“That’s right, Père." She ran the back of her hand along his jaw, "Give in.”
How dare she call him father. She is a viper. A serpent who would choke you as soon as your back is turned.
There are a dozen other vampires in my father’s chamber, not one of them intervenes.
Cowards.
I want to go to him. To stop this monster and her betrayal, but my body won’t move, and I know why. My father, Abhartach, creator of the Kresova, is using all of his power to conceal me.
He glances away and looks up to the face of his traitor. “Why?” The word sputter out of his blood coated lips.
She pulls back from his neck, “Because, where you are weak, I am strong. This world needs a mother, a queen, and only I can give it to them.”
The wagon halts and I lurch forward, so caught up in my thoughts, I almost tumble out to the wet ground below.
“This is as far as we go, Enzo.” Says the vampire holding the reins.
Our wagon stops at a fork in the road. One path continues on further into the countryside, the other to the woods, and the last to the great castle, ominous and stark, set beside the sea.
These two have been my only guard on the trip over. Not that anymore are needed. What can a ten-year-old half human do against two elder vampires? Nothing.
I hated myself for my weakness. As Abhartach’s halfblooded daughter, I have his gifts, but I barely know how to use them. I myself am as useless as a mortal child.
The other vampire, Enzo says, “So we just wait?”
“They know we are here.”
“Where is here?” I dare to ask hoping the question doesn’t result in another beating. My head still aches from the last one.
Enzo glances back at me, “Ardgillan Castle.”
Home of the Wolves.
A tremor of fear rakes down me. My father taught me all of the territories. He insisted that in order to reign well, one must make it their life’s mission to learn continuously. Their Alpha, Callahan the Savage, was known for his brutality against enemies of their clan, but most especially vampires.
As Abhartach’s daughter, I am enemy number one.
For two years, I remained hidden well beneath Morana’s grasp, and had it not been for a simple mistake, she would’ve never found me. Or at least that’s what I tell myself. In truth, she would seek me out unto the ends of the earth.
Why didn’t she
kill me when she had the chance?
“Climb out.” The dominant vampire says as he kicks his foot at my back.
I tumble and fall onto my knees, the wind knocked out of me from his assault. Mud splatters onto my face and I cough a few times, trying to clear my mouth.
“Merde, Theo, don’t kill her before the wolves get their chance.”
I cradle my stomach before catching my breath and stand.
At least my tomb is somewhere beautiful.
Mountains rise to the North and birds sail overhead outward to the sea. The wind whips my long, dark braid into my face, the damp air turning the ends into hard belts. Horses whine in the distance beyond the castle and moments later, riders come into view.
Six men, Wolves, ride out to meet us.
A gust blows toward my nose and I catch their scent. The unmistakable odor of blood tainted with beast. Their alpha is easy to spot. Among Wolves, he is always one step ahead, his presence commanding and fierce. He drops off his black stallion and stalks toward us. The other’s follow him, until all six stand only feet from us, on the opposite side of the road.
“As promised,” Theo grabs me by the braid, and drags me forward, “Your gift.” He pushes me so hard, I tumble again at the Alpha’s feet until my face is pressed into his dirt covered boots. He steps back, removing my face and steps over me until he stands toe-to-toe with my guard.
His voice is rough and low and tinged with an Irish accent, “The girl is now my property. Harm her again and your death will be imminent.”
Theo steps forward, “She’s not here to be pampered. You have a job to do.”
“And I decide the when and the how. Not you.”
“Just be sure you do as you are ordered.”
“Asked—not ordered.” The Alpha corrects.
“A letter from the one queen, Morana.” Enzo says, holding out a sealed envelope between Theo and Callahan, the Kresova ‘K’, stamped in crimson. “Morana has specific instructions on how she wants this handled.”
By this he means me. I may be only a girl, but I’m not stupid. I know that Morana intends to have me tortured before my death. A long, slow death, so awful, its stories will be told for centuries.
Enzo, grabs Theo’s arm and has to push the vampire back toward the wagon before a fight breaks out between him and the Wolves’ leader.
“Remember who you are challenging, mutt. Do what you said you could, or Morana will bleed your entire pack dry.” Theo calls out before smacking down the reins. The horses whiny and their hooves thunder along the pathway back toward the sea.
They expect me to die here. But I won’t. I’ll survive.
I watch their wagon bounce on each rock, hoping they’ll topple over and impale themselves on a broken branch.
“Girl.” The Alpha says from behind me.
I fight back the tears that want to break free. I won’t let them see me fall. See me beg. I’ll die my father’s daughter before I give in to fear.
I turn around and raise my chin to meet his stare. “Lyra. My name is Lyra. Daughter of Abhartach the rightful king, and heir to his throne. Don’t mistake my youth for ignorance. I am my father’s daughter.”
Callahan’s eyes are just as unforgiving as I imagined, but instead of cruelty, I see something else. Something that wasn’t there before, masked beneath the surface.
Something my father taught me.
Respect.
Chapter 1
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Dublin Airport. Please remain seated as we make our final descent.” I ignore the rest of the captain’s announcement, looking out the window at the rolling green hills of the outskirts of the famous Irish city.
Home. At least, as close to a home as I’ve ever known.
When Queen Morana had finally found me at age ten, two years after she’d imprisoned my father. And then she’d hand delivered me to the pack alpha, Callahan, in the hopes that they’d see a half vampire child and tear me to bits.
Instead, they’d taken me in, taught me what it’s like to have a family, and kept me safe. Until word reached Morana that I was alive and thriving five years later. She’d swooped in like an evil crow and flown me away to begin training as one of her elite guard. Le Tireur.
She’d assumed that if anyone could beat obedience and loyalty to her into me, it would be my teachers.
But she’d been wrong.
I’d bided my time for over a thousand years. Learning, growing, plotting, and searching. She’d turned me into one of the deadliest assassins on the planet. She’d taught me everything I need to know to take her and her debauched court down. And now that my father, Abhartach, has been found and freed from her prison… the time has come for me to strike.
I move through the airport quickly, heading to the car waiting to take me to my estate. I sling the single black duffle bag into the backseat before sliding into the car. The driver doesn’t say a word, and I’m grateful for the silence.
So much has changed in the past few months and like it or not, I appear to be smack dab in the middle of it all. Aurora Hedvidge had been turned into a vampire and an ancient prophecy of three Dria queens that would save the Kresova from Morana’s tyrannical rule began. Aurora has found her three mates, and I’d helped them steal Morana’s enchanted ring so we could weaken her, but I know I have a larger role to play in all of this. I feel it deep in my bones.
My father created the Kresova. He’d created Morana. And then she’d over thrown him and locked him away. But not before he’d hidden his bloodline and fathered me.
I sigh, my breath fogging up the window beside me.
I’m hoping that Morana thinks the last place I’d run and hide to is Ireland. She’d made it clear that the wolves had happily handed me over. And I’d let her think I believed her words so she’d shut the hell up about it. But Callahan and the pack had always stayed in touch with me. Checking in as they could during my travels. Ensuring I knew that I had a place to land if I needed it. Unlike the more solitary vampires, packs stick together. And for those five years that they’d taken me in and taught me to howl at the moon as I ran with them through the woods at night, I’d cemented my place within their clan.
We approach my estate, or should I call it castle? I’m still in awe of it every time I see it. Callahan had given me a little slice of land just south of his own castle on the coast. It’s firmly within pack land, and a place where most Kresova wouldn’t dare venture without an invitation first. We pass the ruins of Baldongan Castle to our right, gravel crunching under the tires of the car as we speed up the driveway, and the first sight of my home hits me.
Grey bricks piled up so high you’d swear they touch the clouds. Window panes larger than most giants, a staircase wide enough to fit three hundred people leading up to the double wooden doors bracketed by iron, and finally, my favorite touch.
A welcome mat that says, ‘Go the Fuck Away.’
Callahan and his mate Brenna had just about died laughing when they’d seen my personal touch to their gift to me. And then he’d clapped me on the shoulder and said, “Welcome home, pup. We’ve missed you.” I’d been two hundred before I’d first been able to set foot back in Ireland after years of Morana’s training and psychological warfare.
As soon as I’d had human contact for anything other than teaching me how to roll with a punch, and break a man’s jaw with just my fist, I’d cried. No, actually, I’d sobbed. With grief, regret, and utter despair for everything I could have had, but lost at the wicked hands of the Queen of the Kresova.
I wave the driver off after tipping him handsomely and declining his offer to bring my bag in for me, and grin down at my ‘welcome’ mat.
I’m officially free. No more taking orders from the woman that destroyed my family. No more killing on a whim at her pleasure. After decades of waiting, and searching, I’ve found peace.
“Carver, if you open that door and ruin her moment, I swear to god I won’t have sex with you for a week!” Aurora’s s
hrill whisper floats through the crack in my front doors and a wide smile cracks my face in two.
I bust out laughing, gripping my sides as I struggle for breath. The giant double doors swing open and another round of belly deep laughter rolls over me.
Aurora, the first Dria queen, and her three consorts, Carver Marceau, Lucian DeFontaine, and Marius Casimir, stand there holding up a welcome home sign. Next to them, her best friend Reina and Carver’s right-hand man, Row, stand holding balloons and wearing party hats. I glance around quickly, but don’t see my father with them. It’s not yet sunset, and he’s been sleeping during the day out of habit for centuries. It doesn’t stop the little tinge of hurt from poking at the bubble of joy that fills my chest though.
“Welcome home, Lyra!” Aura and Reina shout at the top of their lungs, probably waking every creature undead or otherwise from here back to Dublin.
I step through the doors, looking around to see that nothing has changed. Other than the rag tag posse of vampires and fellow Morana haters in front of me.
“Thank you so much for doing this you guys.” I hug both Aurora and Reina, before shaking hands and slapping the backs of the men.
Aurora elbows Carver in the ribs and he rubs at the spot, frowning at his mate. “I hope Carver didn’t ruin the surprise for you.”
“Nah, I was completely surprised. And I got a big chuckle out of you yelling at him.”