Lucas paced the marble floor of his throne room, the loud thuds of his boots echoing through the vast, torch lit hall. His hand clenched around the goblet of wine he hadn’t touched. His jaw ticked with frustration. Rage surged in his veins like wildfire.
The attack had failed.
Again.
He had sent his most skilled warriors, armed with silver-tipped blades and potions brewed by his dark priestesses, to Draka’s kingdom. Every tactic had been laced with precision. Every step measured. The full moon had been the perfect cover.
He had gone himself.
And still, it had amounted to nothing.
Draka wasn’t dead.
In fact, the rumors whispered that he was more alive than ever. Not just alive—reborn. He just didn’t heard it, he saw it himself. He had returned with a new force of darkness in his bloo
