Surprise! Kingdom of Stars Prologue

Hey, everyone!

So after considering my options for a publishing schedule this year (and after speaking to some fans and patrons), I decided to shuffle things around a bit. It really has been too long since the last White Throne book. It's probably not the best strategy for Amazon sales, but I think it is the right thing to do for my audience!

On that note, the Patreon has finally been growing again the past few months, and I very much appreciate everyone's support! The more fans I get here, the less I have to be beholden to the whims of Amazon and the harsh realities of that market.

Anyway, here's a preview of the prologue for Kingdom of Stars!

***

A cold, dry gale whipped through the winding streets of Shadowcrest as the Lord Protector and a column of Templar rode in through the main gate. The long banners on the walls fluttered sullenly behind the knights, but no crowds lined the streets and no cheers welcomed their arrival. The blue-gold cloaks and heraldry of the Guardian’s champions should have been a welcome sight on an otherwise bleak winter day, but precious few of the city’s denizens seemed to care. Duke Anwell hadn’t even been willing to interrupt his lunch to greet his guests personally. He had dispatched a single rawboned page instead.

“Such appalling disrespect,” Jessara seethed from the back of her white horse. “A visit from the Lord Protector should warrant a parade in this backwater!”

“Calm yourself, acolyte,” Lady Seeker Patros scolded, her rich yet raspy voice teeming with matronly energy. “You know full well that your father and Duke Anwell have never seen eye-to-eye.”

Jessara’s cheek twitched in annoyance. She and the Lady Seeker were both waiting atop the high hill near the Temple of the Moonmaiden, almost a hundred yards from the wall. They could see most of the city from this vantage, but Lady Patros had insisted they observe the initial reception from a distance. They were Sanctori, not diplomats—it was their duty to root out and expose corruption within the realm, especially within their fellow members of the Tel Bator. They needed to remain as distant and detached from politics as humanly possible, which was why they rarely involved themselves in matters of Court unless it became absolutely necessary. They would join the Lord Protector once he reached the keep at the city’s heart and not before.

“The Templar have defended Darenthi against the Chol for centuries,” Jessara said, curling the golden claw-like tips of her gloves into a fist. “They deserve respect!”

The Lady Seeker sighed wearily. “The last Culling was put down before you could use the privy, acolyte, and the horde never made it this far south. You should know by now that people have short memories.”

“That’s not an excuse!”

“No, it isn’t. But we will have time to remind the Duke and his tharns of their debts tonight at the feast. Until then, we shall watch and listen and not interfere. Do I make myself clear?”

“Of course, mistress,” Jessara murmured, folding her arms in disgust. Given the choice, she would have gladly ridden to the keep and dragged the duke down there herself. She had watched lesser men belittle her father countless times over the years, and she was beyond tired of it. But the Lady Seeker always kept her on a tight leash, and today was no exception.

Just because you are the daughter of the Lord Protector doesn’t mean you will receive special treatment. If anything, it will be even harder for you to gain my favor.

Jessara smiled at the memory. She never backed down from a challenge, and in her seven years studying the ways of the Sanctori, she had proven her worth—and her devotion—many times over. There was a reason that she had the honor of accompanying the Lady Seeker. And once she was promoted to a full Inquisitrix, she would finally have the power and independence she needed to punish these insolent fools herself.

For now, however, she simply needed to be patient. And mercifully, there was something else here in Shadowcrest she could focus her attention on.

Jessara’s smile widened when her amber eyes settled upon one of her father’s squires. The young man towered over most of the other Templar, and beneath his heavy brigandine armor was a taut, muscular physique that had set fire to her dreams ever since she had learned that he would be making the trip from Griffonwing.

She hadn’t seen Rohen in months now, and her toes curled in anticipation inside her boots. The things she was going to do to him once they were alone…

The Lady Seeker had no idea what she was planning, of course, and ideally never would. Sanctori priestesses were supposed to police the Tel Bator, not fraternize with them. But even if Rohen weren’t a Templar, the daughter of the Lord Protector wasn’t supposed to consort with a pale-blooded mongrel. It was downright scandalous.

And I can’t wait.

The Lady Seeker didn’t signal for them to ride forward until after the Lord Protector had disappeared behind the wall encircling the keep. And once the two Sanctori arrived outside the gate, Patros insisted upon joining Lord Kraythe and Duke Anwell alone. She crossed inside, straight-backed and imperious, as the servants in the courtyard scurried to get out of the way of yet another Lord of the Tel Bator.

Normally, Jessara would have protested—she wanted to be there to ensure that the duke and his tharns behaved themselves in the presence of her father. But in this case, she was grateful for the opportunity to remain outside. Rohen hadn’t entered the castle, either, and her father and the Lady Seeker would probably be occupied for at least an hour.

Plenty of time.

Jessara waited patiently by the stables as a servant accepted the reins of her horse and lead it away. Everyone always gave her a wide berth—the red-gold armor of the Sanctori might have been the most intimidating sight in Darenthi. The Moonmaiden’s light revealed all secrets, and one of the first lessons she had learned in her training was that everyone—even lowly stable boys—had something to hide. Her very presence inspired fear in tharns and commoners alike.

But not in the young Templar she was stalking. As far as she could tell, Rohen hadn’t even noticed her yet. He watched the stable hands for a moment to ensure that the Templar’s mounts were well treated, but when he tried to strike up a friendly conversation, none of them seemed interested. He seemed to belatedly realize his mistake in taking off his helmet—the pointed tips of his ears instantly made him a pariah no matter what armor he was wearing.

Jessara scowled on his behalf, but she continued shadowing him when he paced about the wide, mostly empty plaza in front of the keep, clearly as bored as he was frustrated. He was fortunate that she planned to cure of him of both ailments.

She didn’t make her move until he wandered over to the forge on the far side of the square. The tall, egg-shaped brick structure stuck out like a sore thumb amidst the nearby homes and merchant stalls, though it was easily large enough to conceal anyone standing behind it from prying eyes. The entire area was normally filled with craftsmen, but none of them were actually working today—Duke Anwell probably hadn’t wanted to reveal just how much iron he’d been illegally importing from Galvia. Grimweald, just like the neighboring duchy of Eastfold, had been preparing for another civil war from the moment the last one ended. King Thedric’s recent sham of a wedding to the last surviving Whitefeather girl had only made the southern duchies moreembittered and insular, not less.

But Jessara wasn’t here to enforce the king’s trade restrictions, and the empty forge would work perfectly for her plans. She stalked up behind Rohen, careful to ensure that the heels of her riding boots didn’t crunch into the thin layer of snow that dusted the cobblestone street. The instant he wandered behind the stone forge and out of sight of the guards atop the keep’s walls, she sprang.

Rushing forward like a huntress pouncing on her prey, Jessara dashed up behind the Templar and clasped her claws around his throat. He jerked and went rigid, but she wrapped her other arm around his chest and giggled before his warrior instincts could take over.

“Jess?” Rohen blurted. “What are you—?”

“That’s Acolyte Kraythe to you, pale-blood,” she scolded even as she stretched up on the tips of her toes and brought her lips to the back of his pointed ear. “I demand you show me the proper respect.”

He groaned but went slack in her embrace. “Gods, you know better than to sneak up on me like that! I could have—”

She pressed the tips of her claws tighter against his throat. “I wasn’t worried. You’re still a squire—you don’t even have your wraithblade yet.”

“No, but I still could have hurt you!”

“Maybe you should have,” she purred as she nibbled at the lobe of his ear. The flesh was cold but not frigid. “Not that I need any more reasons to punish you.”

Rohen tried to twist and turn around, but Jessara held him fast. She kept her right hand at his throat while her left crawled claw by claw down the length of his brigandine.

“Ah-ah,” she chidingly clucked her tongue. “You are not fit to look upon me, pale-blood. I don’t even want to imagine how many sins you’ve committed since your last atonement.”

“Someone might see us, Jess,” Rohen warned. “I doubt your father would—”

“Father has his hands full with the duke and his tharns,” Jessara told him. “And the Lady Seeker has great faith in my ability to seek out and purge corruption wherever I might find it…”

She continued nibbling at his earlobe for another moment before she abruptly relaxed her grip and spun him around. The irises of his emerald eyes, brighter and wider than any human’s thanks to his elven blood, were as striking as ever. A possessive thrill ran through her as she pushed him back against a brick wall and then pressed up against him.

“Did Father tell you I was going to be here?” she asked, placing both her hands upon his chest. Her golden claws seemed to glitter even brighter when pressed against the drab brown of his armor.

“Not, uh…not specifically,” Rohen said, shaking his head. He tried valiantly to keep his eyes on hers, but she caught them flicking down to inspect her cleavage. She had intentionally unlaced her Sanctori tunic just enough to give him a tantalizing glimpse of her pert, pale breasts.

“Good,” Jessara cooed as she rose back up on her toes to bring her lips closer to his. Without the aid of her heels, she never would have been able to reach his face. “The Sanctori have taught me that surprise inspections are much more effective.”

She leaned in and kissed him. Her tongue slid through his lips with ease, and when his strong hands invariably settled on her waist, a tingle of delight surged through her entire body. If they’d had more time, she would have gladly dragged him into the local temple for a full confessional. She knew from experience that it often took hours of diligent work to fully cleanse him, but it was a service she gladly provided on behalf of the Moonmaiden.

“Oh, it’s so good to see you,” she breathed when they finally broke for air. “How long has it been since Silver Falls?”

“Three months,” Rohen said.

“Maiden’s mercy,” Jessara breathed. “So many days without proper penance. I need to make visits to Griffonwing more often.”

She dragged her right claws down the length of his brigandine as she eased down onto her high heels. The traditional armor of the Templar was surprisingly light for a knightly order, a fact for which she was eternally grateful. Large metal plates would have been awfully cold to the touch….and she would have had to work much harder to locate the source of his sins.

“Once I’m promoted, I’ll have much more freedom to investigate wherever I please,” she said when her fingers finally brushed the rapidly growing bulge in his trousers beneath the armored jacket. “I’ll make certain you receive all the attention you need.”

“Jess, if we get caught…” Rohen swallowed as her dexterous fingers slipped beneath the jacket and expertly worked to open his belt. “Someone could hear!”

“Then you had best restrain yourself, squire,” Jessara teased as the buckle popped free. “But I cannot allow your corruption to fester any longer. You need to be cleansed.”

He inhaled sharply when she reached into his trousers, and he seized up entirely when the cold metal of her claws brushed his sensitive manhood. But his magnificent stem swelled in her grasp regardless, and she began leisurely stroking the shaft while his gaze darted around to make certain no one was watching them.

Jessara snickered when he let out his first moan, her other hand undoing the lower laces of his jacket. He was a full head taller than her even while wearing her highest heels, and his muscular arms were more than capable of overpowering her in a heartbeat. Yet she knew that he wouldn’t—he would never harm her, no matter what she did to him. She was in complete and total control of the situation, and every time she felt his manhood throb in her grasp, her sex tingled in anticipation.

He may have been a pale-blooded orphan, but he was also the only man she had ever been with—and the only man she wanted to be with. She could hardly wait for them both to become full members of their orders. She had already planned out plenty of future adventures…

“I heard that you were fighting demons near Palegarde,” Jessara whispered, gently kissing his chin and appreciating how his two-day stubble made him look at least five years older than his nineteen winters. “I should perform a full, complete exorcism just in case.”

She smiled seductively as she slowly sank down to her knees in front of him, parting his lower jacket and easing his trousers down his thighs. At first, she didn’t change her rhythm—she continued stroking him even once she was eye level with his magnificent member. But the sound of his heavy breathing and the sight of his straining flesh drove her onward, and she began to pick up the pace of her strokes.

It felt like a year had passed since she had wrapped her lips around the thick, swollen head, and she wanted to savor the moment. It didn’t matter that someone could have strolled around the corner and spotted them; it didn’t matter that her father and the Lady Seeker were just a few walls away. The Moonmaiden’s light revealed all truths…and right now, the truth was that she wanted to taste him so badly it hurt.

“Confess your sins, pale-blood,” Jessara breathed as she parted her lips and leaned forward. “I promise I’ll keep them all to myself.”

Rohen gritted his teeth and gasped when her tongue flicked across his tip, gathering up the clear droplet that had emerged. The musky scent and salty flavor were as oddly addictive as she remembered, and even though she had planned to drag this out as long as possible, she couldn’t resist taking him deeper. Within seconds, she had taken the bulk of his shaft into her mouth, and it only took her a few more moments of concentration to relax her throat and gorge on his full length.

“Oh…Jess…ngh…” Rohen clamped his mouth shut and bit down on his lip in a futile effort to stay quiet. His hands dropped to her head, and his fingers feathered through her white hair even while hers clutched his buttocks and pulled him as tightly against her as she could.

Then she began to move.

Jessara’s jaw ached and her throat felt overwhelming full, but she didn’t care. Her sex burned in anticipation as her head bobbed up and down his spit-slickened shaft. She couldn’t wait until they had more time and actual privacy. As good as he felt in her throat, he felt even better buried deep inside her cunt. It was where he belonged—it was where he was supposed to be.

Because she wanted him. She needed him. This was exactly the moment she had been imagining for days, and it was every bit as wonderful as she had hoped. The power of having his manhood in her hands, the feeling of it lodged deep in her throat, the knowledge that she alone could bring him such glorious pleasure…

“Oh…” Rohen moaned as his hand tightened on the back of her head. “Jess, I’m going to…nngnn!”

His warning was appreciated but unnecessary. Jessara had already braced herself for the flood, drawing back so that his tip rested upon her tongue, and she kept a firm hold on his upper thighs as his cock filled her mouth with his corrupt, pale-blooded seed. Every pulse of heat made her core spasm, and it never seemed to end. He gave her even more than she expected—he gave her even more than seemed possible. As much as she wanted to savor every drop, she had to swallow between volleys so as not to be overwhelmed.

“Maiden’s mercy,” she gasped once he finally finished and she withdrew, panting. “So much sin…you absolutely need another confessional tonight.”

Rohen drew in several long, heavy breaths as he gradually came down, and she felt him lean back against the wall when his knees momentary threatened to buckle. She smiled up at him as she diligently cleaned him off with her tongue.

“Jess, I doubt we’ll stay long,” he finally managed. “The Lord Protector is convinced the duke wants to send us into the Grimweald to try and find—”

“Whatever monsters you’re hunting, I’m sure it can wait another night,” she told him. “I’ll tell my father that I was hoping to have dinner with him…that should keep him here until morning.”

Jessara gently dragged the cold tips of her claws across the length of his wilting shaft, triggering a gasp and then a grimace from Rohen. She had no doubt that she could spur him back to readiness in a few moments—he had confessed to her three times in an hour in a closet within the Temple of Escar in Silver Falls when they had last met, and then twice more that night in her quarters. But as much as she wanted him back in her mouth, they really did need to be careful.

Besides, I’ll have plenty more chances to discipline him tonight.

Grinning, she helped him gently push his manhood back into his trousers, and while he fiddled with his belt buckle, she leaned back on her haunches and dragged the tip of a claw across her lips and tongue. He tasted so much better than she had ever imagined. She couldn’t help but wonder if that was due to his wicked elven blood or merely her own appetites. It wasn’t as if she had a basis for comparison; he was the only man she had ever been remotely interested in.

Once Rohen had finally laced back up, she held out her hands so he could take her wrists and help her back to her feet. He pulled her up and slid his arms around her, and his hand cradled the back of her head as he pulled her in for another kiss. His tongue was so warm and his hands were so strong that she would have gladly closed her eyes and lingered in this moment the rest of the day if it were possible. Circumstances might have kept them apart far more than she liked, but they unquestionably belonged together.

Man and woman. Warrior and priestess. The two of us fighting together against the wicked and corrupt.

Jessara had never wanted anything more. And in the end, she always got her way.

***

Jessara Kraythe inhaled sharply when she heard movement outside the door to her chamber. Someone knocked—a soft, tentative sound almost like whoever it was knew he had to disturb her slumber but was absolutely terrified of doing so.

“What is it?” she snarled.

“I…I’m sorry to bother you, Lady Inquisitrix, but Keeper Toreth and his men have returned from the forest.”

Jessara bolted upright so quickly she made herself dizzy. A quick glance into her bedside mirror confirmed that her white hair was plastered to the side of her face. Her skin was sticky with sweat, and her eyeliner streaked down her cheeks like black tears.

I look like a fucking disaster! And all because of him…

“Did they find the drow?” she asked as she dug her claws into her bedframe while she waited for the dizziness to pass. “Or the Whitefeather girl?”

“I-I’m afraid not, my lady,” the Keeper on the other side stammered. “But Toreth claims they were attacked…by a highborn elf.”

Jessara’s lips pulled back in a snarl. “What?”

“He wishes to explain the situation himself. He humbly requests your presence in the—”

“I will meet him in the great hall shortly,” she snapped as she vaulted to her feet, dizziness be damned. “I expect a detailed report—and no excuses.”

“Y-yes, my Lady Inquisitrix. I will instruct him to meet you there.”

She waited until the man’s booted footfalls faded into silence before pacing away from the bed. The clock on the mantle of her dormant fireplace had just struck six, which meant that Rohen had been gone for several hours now. Somehow, the daughter of the Winter Witch had helped him escape. Jessara didn’t understand how that was possible, but the Keepers must have been even more incompetent than her father thought.

She swallowed heavily as the memories of the past few hours rushed back over her. Once she had discovered Rohen’s betrayal, she had strapped down on a torture rack to flog the truth out of him…but then suddenly, inexplicably, he had conjured an Aetheric barrier over his arm even without the aid of the Guardian’s Ward in his bracer.

It didn’t make sense. The Templar weren’t channelers. None of the Tel Bator were—until her father’s ascension. And despite his elven blood, Rohen couldn’t have possibly been a sorcerer. He was far too old; his powers would have manifested many years ago.

And yet…

I know what I saw, and I know what it means. Somehow, some way, he must have been concealing his gifts all these years. Yet another lie. Yet another betrayal.

Jessara glared down at the half-burnt logs in the fireplace and opened her palm. Her father’s power—the power of the gods themselves—exploded from her fingertips in a blazing beam of yellow light that instantly ignited the wood. She gazed into the crackling flames, transfixed by their destructive beauty, and reminded herself of her duty here in the Galespire.

The Lord Protector was counting on her to mobilize the artificers, construct new suits of Faceless armor, and then Purge every channeler in the Galespire. The Culling had been unleashed, and it was up to her and her father to save Darenthi from annihilation. She simply couldn’t afford to waste any more time pining after a pale-blooded mongrel.

Unless he’s right about King Thedric’s death. The treacherous thought came to her unbidden, nagging at the part of her the Lady Seeker had told her to always heed. Unless he’s right about my father. Maiden’s mercy, Rohen, what have you done?

Swallowing again, Jessara snatched a towel from the nightstand and tried to scrub the mascara from her cheeks. But even when the black tears disappeared, the real ones began flowing to take their place.