by Becca Blake
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Epilogue
About the Author
Blood King © 2020 Becca Blake
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Formatted by Jennifer Laslie
Blood King
The fall of a man… The rise of a king.
For Nero Cineris and his twin sister, Neryssa, living on the streets of Caracta means fighting for survival every day. In desperation, he accepts help from Lord Adrius, a terrifying man who drinks the blood of the living. Nero must prove his worth to earn a better life in a new city.
When Lord Adrius tests Nero’s will, the punishment for failure is death. Nero thought he would do anything to escape the streets, but is the new life he’s been promised worth sacrificing his humanity? Worse, what will become of his sister?
One thing is certain: Lord Adrius will change Nero and Neryssa forever… if they can survive him at all.
Blood King is a prequel novella to Becca Blake’s Reign of Blood dark fantasy series.
Prologue
On the day their parents were executed, Nero and Neryssa Cineris wore simple garments of a deep crimson to mark them as blood relations of traitors. At just ten years old, the twins had only barely begun to grasp that death was forever, and that their parents were not as immortal as they had once seemed.
To them, death had always been something that happened to other people— to distant relatives or unknown strangers. Never to the most important people in their world. Never to those who gave them life.
And yet, Ivana and Amos Cineris knelt on the dais, hands bound behind their backs. An executioner stood behind them, his heavy sword ready to give the pair a traitor’s death.
Even when the sword sliced through the air, and then through his father’s neck, and then through his mother’s, Nero watched with a fascination, as though none of it was real. Or, even if it was real, none of it was happening to his family.
But the whispers of traitor that rumbled through the crowd were directed at his sister and him, as though they’d been the ones to plot a rebellion against the noble half-elven Ellery family who ruled over the city of Caracta. Despite living in the castle, Nero knew very little about them— except that they had a daughter close to his age, who he sometimes saw during lessons at the palace. She was always kind to him.
Though, he supposed that was all over now.
He looked over at his sister. Neryssa’s curly black hair was a curtain around her face, obscuring her features. Her hand closed around Nero’s. “We weren’t supposed to look,” she whispered. “Mother said not to look.”
But they both had.
“And what of the children?” Lord Ellery boomed from the dais. Wearing armor bearing his family’s sigil, a blue wave encircling a silver rose, he stood over the bodies. His eyes rested on Nero and Neryssa, and he frowned.
“They are only children, my lord.”
The protest came from Noah Reiner, the half-elven captain of the royal guard. Neryssa called him the Candy Man for the sweets he carried in his pockets. He always had an easy smile and kind words, and he always shared his seemingly endless supply of candies. Today, however, the lines on his face were hard, and he stared up at Lord Ellery with his mouth pursed in a thin line.
“They are the children of traitors!”
“But they are children nonetheless.” Captain Reiner threw his arms in the air. “Would you have me chop off their heads? They may be a little too short for the executioner’s block. Perhaps someone should fetch stools for them to stand on, so they can reach.”
Nero let out a small gasp and leaned into his sister.
“He doesn’t mean that,” she whispered, though she didn’t sound entirely certain.
Lord Ellery’s face reddened with fury at Captain Reiner’s words, but the nervous murmur and disapproving faces that traveled through the crowd seemed enough to silence his worst instincts.
“Drop them in an orphanage, then.” He drew his gaze across the crowd. “But know this. If they show their treachery, any who shelter them or give them aid will be held equally responsible for their crimes.”
And with that final declaration, Lord Ellery made his exit, leaving the orphaned twins to their fate.
Chapter 1
“They can’t possibly expect you to go out on the ocean during the worst storm Caracta has seen in decades.”
Wind whistled beneath the bridge Nero Cineris and his sister Neryssa called home, pelting them both with cold drops of rain. Neryssa shivered against the stone wall and wrapped her threadbare blanket more tightly around her shoulders.
Nero crouched down beside his twin and squeezed her hand. “They just need me to help secure the boat. I won’t be gone long.” He shrugged off his coat and wrapped it around her, leaving his own arms exposed to the cold air and heavy rainfall.
“Don’t be stupid—”
“I’ll be fine,” Nero said. “Don’t worry about me.”
Neryssa’s dark curls obscured her features as she huddled up against the wall. “Get home safe.”
Nero grinned as he slung his pack over his shoulder. “Always.”
He sprinted out into the empty Caractan streets. His soaked tunic clung to his lean body, leaving his pale skin visible through the thin fabric. Flashes of lightning streaked across the dark afternoon sky, illuminating everything in front of him. A burst of wind wrenched a wooden sign away from the front of a building, and Nero ducked as it flew past his head.
Neryssa was right to think he shouldn’t be outside in the dangerous storm. Earlier, as the clouds gathered over the ocean beyond the docks, the city guards had ridden through the streets, warning everyone to stay inside until it passed.
Nero had no intention of heeding any of their warnings. He’d told Neryssa he was expected to report to the docks, where she believed he worked as a fisherman. None of that was true. He’d never been able to hold a job— not since their parents’ execution.
As soon as they’d come of age, they’d been thrown out onto the streets. Since then, they’d been forced to fend for themselves in a city that refused to allow them to move past their family’s treacherous legacy.
That left Nero no other choice but to take what they needed to survive. It was their only option, but he was too ashamed of their situation to admit to Neryssa that he was a thief. And he certainly didn’t want to admit that he’d chosen to head out into the worst storm they’d ever seen because it was the best time to steal from the boats at the docks. He’d done so plenty of times before. Storms were a common occurrence in Caracta, and the thunder and rain that came with them usually didn’t scar
e him. This storm, though… this storm was unlike anything he’d ever seen. It was like the elven gods had returned and brought their vengeance with them.
And that meant there would be no one at the docks to stop him from taking anything he wanted from the ships.
The wooden pier creaked as the waves crashed into it. The rainwater that soaked through his tunic had already chilled him to the bone, so he hardly noticed the sea water the waves sprayed onto him as he ran across the dock toward the ships. The rain obscured his vision too much to be picky, so he chose the closest one and leaped across. He gripped the railing, the wood slick from the rainwater, and pulled himself up onto the deck. The boat heaved with the waves, and Nero took a moment to steady himself before heading below deck. As he’d expected, the eerily quiet ship seemed to be deserted for the moment, leaving the path to the storage room unguarded.
Nero opened his pack and began loading it up with jars of peaches and various cheeses, as well as a single bottle of ale. Neryssa wouldn’t want to touch that, but he would enjoy it later.
“The ‘ell are you doing in here?”
Nero startled at the sound of a man’s voice, and his pack slipped out of his hands.
The shirtless man held a bottle of ale, and he took a swig as he waited for Nero’s reply.
“I— I didn’t think—” Nero stammered.
“You just thought you’d raid this ship while it was stormin’ out.”
“My sister and I are hungry,” Nero said, the words tumbling out of his mouth. “It’s the only way we can survive—”
“We’ve been robbed blind once before during a storm.” A drunk hiccup escaped the man’s throat as he raised the empty bottle above his head. “And we’ve been ordered to never let it happen again. It’s why we’re out here in the middle of this gods-damned storm instead of somewhere safe.”
Nero ducked to avoid the bottle as the man flung it across the small space. It crashed into the shelves, and the glass shattered behind Nero’s head. Jars of food fell to the floor, rolling from one side of the room to the other with the ship’s movement.
“I know your type,” the man said, his voice a scratchy growl. “You think the world belongs to you! That you can take anything you want!”
The wooden shelves dug into his back, and more of the food tumbled to the floor around him. He gripped his pack, heavy with the weight of stolen jars. Nero pressed himself into the corner and reached for one of the daggers sheathed on his belt.
When the sailor lunged for him, Nero plunged the dagger into his thigh. The man cried out as he fell to the floor. Hoping to escape while he was distracted, Nero stepped over him, but the sailor grabbed him by the leg as he passed.
As Nero fell forward, his cheek slammed into the corner of a shelf. With an explosion of pain, a sharp, coppery taste filled his mouth. His stomach churned from the movement of the ship and the sharp taste on his tongue. He spat out the blood and pulled himself to his feet.
He stumbled out of the storage closet, leaving the sailor calling for help behind him, and hurried down the hallway toward the ladder that led back to the upper deck.
The sailor yelled for help, and a door at the end of the hall swung open. A second sailor stepped out into the narrow hallway behind Nero, looking less drunk and disheveled than the first had been. Nero dove for the ladder and started climbing. The sailor grabbed his leg and tried to pull him back down. Nero kicked wildly at him. The heel of his boot landed right on the man’s jaw, and he stumbled backward.
Nero’s boots slipped on the slick wood as he crawled up onto the deck. The man followed him up the ladder and reached for him once again. This time, he was ready for Nero’s flailing, and he overpowered him with ease. He picked up an unused coil of rope from the deck to bind Nero’s hands together in front of him.
Nero struggled against the rope, but the tight knots wouldn’t budge.
Stormy winds raged around them, and the thunder boomed so loud he could almost feel the vibrations down to his bones.
The man leaned Nero over the ship’s railing. The ocean waves splashed up the side of the ship, spraying cold, salty water onto his face.
The sailor Nero had stabbed climbed up from the lower deck and limped over to them. “Shove him overboard,” he growled. “Let him rot in the depths.”
The other didn’t need much convincing.
Icy water hit Nero like a thousand knives stabbing into him at once. Darkness surrounded him on all sides except above him, where lights from the dock and the flashes of lightning illuminated the surface of the water. He swung his legs, trying to kick himself back to the surface, but without the mobility of his hands he made little progress. He reached his bound hands over to his hip and unsheathed his dagger, then bit down on the hilt.
Water rushed into his mouth and burned his lungs as he sawed away the thick rope that bound his wrists. The rope frayed, coming apart one strand at a time until finally it fell apart and freed his hands. The dagger, its job completed, sank down to the depths below him as Nero swam for the surface. His burning lungs begged for breath. He reached the surface and gasped for air just as another wave crashed over him, shoving him back below.
Nero continued fighting against the pull of the waves, gulping up quick breaths each time he emerged. His arms and legs grew tired from flailing against the powerful, unrelenting force of the water, but he swam until the waves dumped him on the shore. His body weak and exhausted, he closed his eyes and let the darkness take him.
Nero woke to the full moon’s light spilling across the sandy beach below the docks. The wild storm had passed, leaving behind only a cloudless, starry sky and a calm ocean. The waves now lapped gently at his feet, though the lingering memory of saltwater still burned in his throat and chest. He’d need to get a drink of fresh water before heading back home.
Home.
Nero groaned and ran a hand through his dark hair, which was still clumpy from the saltwater. Neryssa would be so worried about him. It was surprising she hadn’t come looking for him already.
He patted his belt and pockets. His dagger was long gone, lost to the waves, but the purse at his hip jingled with the weight of his few stolen coins. At least he hadn’t lost everything. A few feet away, the strap of his pack hung on a jagged rock, bobbing back and forth with the tide. Nero stumbled over to it and tore open the tie on the front. The jars he’d stolen from the ship had shattered open in the chaos, leaving thick shards of glass in the soaked food that remained.
He dropped the bag back against the rock. Even after all that effort, after nearly dying, he was left with nothing. He’d have to find another way to get food, and judging by the cloudless sky, there wasn’t another storm on the way to give him enough cover to do so.
“That’s him!” a voice yelled from near the docks.
Nero looked up to see one of the men from the ship. He was flanked by a group of Caractan city guards as he hobbled toward Nero. The man’s thigh was wrapped in thick bandages, and he wore a nasty scowl on his face.
Nero muttered a curse to himself before bolting down the beach. The guards chased after him, screaming for him to stop. Living on the streets, he’d run from the guards plenty of times before— weaving through alleyways, slipping into buildings, sometimes even leaping across rooftops to get away.
This time, though, his body was still weak and sore from fighting for his life in the ocean. His legs felt like they were being weighed down by heavy blocks of stone. His feet stuck in the sand with every step, like a nightmare he couldn’t escape from.
The guards caught him with little difficulty. Two of them took him by the arms and dragged him in front of the rest.
The wounded sailor limped forward. “That’s the rat! He stole from Lord Ellery.”
Nero’s blood ran cold. That was Lord Ellery’s ship? He hadn’t been able to tell in the midst of the storm.
The guard in front of Nero was a grizzled half-elven man who looked to be in his fifties. His face had a few more lin
es than Nero remembered, but there was no mistaking Captain Reiner.
Nero hadn’t seen the captain since he stopped checking in on them at the orphanage when they were fifteen. On the day of his final visit, Neryssa had gone after his throat with a stolen letter opener. She still blamed him for not trying harder to save their parents, but as far as Nero was concerned, Captain Reiner was the only reason the two of them hadn’t been executed that day, too. Reiner didn’t turn her in after she attacked him, but he never returned to visit them again.
“What’s your name, boy?” one of the other guards asked.
“Nero Cineris.” Any other day, he’d give a false name and hope to walk away with a warning, but there was no point in trying that when he stood in front of Reiner. Now that they all knew exactly who he was— and who his parents were— he’d be lucky if he ever saw the light of day again.
“You can return to your patrolling duties. I’ll take care of this from here.” Reiner nodded for the other guards to let Nero go, then took him by the arm. “Come along, then. We’ve got a long walk.”
The other guards saluted him, then headed back toward the docks with the sailor.
Nero had no choice but to walk alongside Captain Reiner, though each step felt like a slow procession toward his death. If he’d stolen from any other ship, he’d be facing a short stay at the prison. A week, maybe a month. He could live with that. But he was one of the last living members of a family of traitors, and he’d chosen to steal from Lord Ellery himself.
He’d be executed for his name alone.
“You know, you look just like your father,” Captain Reiner said as they walked. “He always had this intense look in his eyes, like every little thing was a matter of life and death. You’ve got that same look.”