Death courts Astasiya Davenport at every turn.
Dark fates lurk in the shadows of the night.
And a prophecy looms unbidden on the horizon.
With her future in shambles, she leans on Issac Wakefield for his love and support. They crave just one more moment together, one more night, until a massacre destroys everything in their path.
Will their relationship perish in the embers of destruction, or will love persevere?
Kingdoms will fall.
New powers will emerge.
And a Seraphim will rise from the ashes of despair.
An immortal war is on the horizon.
Death will reign.
The endgame begins now.
"Aya," he murmured, his mouth ripping from hers, his exhale heavy against her mouth.
Stas grabbed him, yanking him back, not ready to stop. She devoured him the way she craved, the way she used to, the way she adored. But he pushed her down, his hand on her chest, his breath hot against her neck. The tension in his touch told her something was wrong, his shoulders locked above her.
She tasted it then--the familiar iron fluid on the tip of her tongue.
Her nails bit into his shoulders, her body frozen beneath him.
Don't let it be mine.
Please, f*ck, don't--
"It's mine," he gritted out. "Just... I need a moment."
The air rushed from her lungs, tears filling her eyes. So close. Too close. She shook, her soul ripping in half at the reality of what this could have meant.
I could lose him forever.