“The Dark Prince Pestale had the Death Sword across her throat, and if her brother moved another step toward her, it would only end in getting her killed. Chancemont LeBlanc stood rigid and filled with fear for his young sibling, Lana. And then, right before his eyes, the Dark Prince, grinning all the while, slit young, sweet Lana’s throat, and she was forever lost to them. Thunder rolled through his body then—rolled through it still. His sword vibrated in his hands, feeling his need. He wanted ...blood, the Dark Prince’s blood, and he wanted it more than he had ever wanted anything else in his life. Fury took over his despair and buried the pain of grief with the hope that he would soon have the Dark Prince in his grip and torture him before he put an end to the Dark Fae’s miserable existence. Sorrow—deep, haunting sorrow—filtered through to his heart and blinded him with the all-consuming need to avenge his young sister’s death. Guilt shouted out his faults and blamed him for her death—but guilt was a waste of time.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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