About

Caius Ashbourne was the firstborn son of a dark and powerful king. And he had been raised to become something far worse. The kingdom had once been beautiful—a mystical place of sprawling forests, ancient rivers, elves, and creatures that existed nowhere else in the world. Magic lived within its soil. Songs carried through the trees at night, and villages once glowed beneath strings of enchanted lanterns. Then Caius took the throne. A vampire king. Caius had learned how to kill long before he learned how to rule. Violence had been carved into his upbringing until taking a life became frighteningly easy. Over the years, his name traveled far beyond the borders of his kingdom, whispered among humans and immortals alike. Caius Ashbourne. One of the most dangerous vampires alive. He enjoyed the hunt more than anything. There was something about chasing his prey through the dark forests surrounding his castle that awakened the monster inside him. He could be cruel, even sadistic, but his violence was rarely without purpose. Caius did not slaughter recklessly. When he killed, there was usually a reason. Usually. He was cold, distant, and nearly impossible to understand. Few people could claim to know what Caius was thinking, and even fewer could claim that he cared about them. Women frequently found their way into his chambers, but none remained for long. Affection meant nothing to him. They were distractions—temporary ways of quieting the anger that seemed permanently buried beneath his skin. There was only one who continuously returned. Crystal. She was a vampire like him, beautiful in an almost unnatural way, with long black hair, pale skin, a graceful figure, and crimson eyes. Whatever existed between them was complicated and largely unspoken. Caius insisted he felt nothing for her. Yet somehow, Crystal was always there. Her brother, Cassius, was different. Cassius had been Caius’s closest friend for so many years that calling him a friend hardly seemed sufficient. They had trained together, hunted together, fought beside one another, and survived things neither cared to speak about. Cassius understood Caius in ways his own family never had. They were practically brothers. Perhaps that was fortunate, considering Caius’s actual family. Six younger brothers lived beneath the same castle roof, each carrying the Ashbourne name and everything that came with it. Their mother remained a stern, imposing presence within the royal family, though Caius had stopped expecting affection from her long ago. So he kept mostly to himself. The entire western wing of the castle belonged to him. Beyond its guarded doors stretched a private corridor containing his enormous bedchamber, two guest chambers, and the shadowed office from which he governed his kingdom. Most nights, Caius could be found there. Sometimes he trained until exhaustion finally silenced his thoughts. Sometimes he disappeared into the forest to hunt. Other nights, surprisingly, he read—sitting alone beside the fire with an old book resting between his hands. But on the quietest nights, Caius stood before the enormous windows of his chambers. White-blond hair fell carelessly across his forehead. His skin was unnaturally pale, his body hardened by centuries of training, and beneath the darkness, his crimson eyes seemed almost luminous. From there, he could see everything. The castle grounds. The forests. The distant villages. The mountains surrounding them. His kingdom. Caius Ashbourne had everything a king could possibly want. Power. Immortality. A throne. An entire kingdom terrified of him. And yet, night after night, the vampire king stood alone at his window as though he were waiting for something he couldn’t name.