Savagery & Skills: Books 1-4

by Ciara Graves

  He captured my hands, his gaze falling to my shimmering right one crafted from an alloy of gold and pure mage magic. It felt like a real hand, moved like a real hand. Most days, I forgot it wasn’t my hand. Guilt appeared in Draven’s eyes, and I stood on my toes to kiss it away.

  “Stop it. You did what you had to do. It’s just a hand.”

  “You’re the one who stopped Rudarius,” he whispered.

  “And you think I could’ve done anything I did without you? You know better.”

  He hung his head, but I kissed him again, wrapping my arms around his neck. He crushed me to his chest and backed me into the nearest wall with a growl. If we didn’t need to be on our way to the ceremony, I would’ve been more than happy to give in, but if we weren’t down there soon, they’d come looking.

  I pulled back with a laugh as he sighed. “You’ll be fine. And I’ll be right there the whole time.”

  “Yes, you are because you are also being named as leader.”

  “Wait. What?”

  “It’s tradition. You’re my bride, and therefore you’re also to be named as leader of this coven.”

  I ground my teeth as he walked to the mirror and adjusted the heavy cloak.

  “When were you planning on telling me this?”

  “Once we were downstairs. What? You’re already dressed. Why do you think I asked for a lavish gown for tonight? It’s your ceremony, too.”

  “What am I going to do with you?”

  “Be with me for eternity.”

  I tilted my head back and forth then yanked him around so I could kiss him again. “Deal. Now come on, or we’ll be late. Ceremony,” I reminded him and took hold of his arm.

  “So demanding,” he whispered as we left our room. “I like it.”

  I growled right back at him as he laughed. We walked through the fortress and down the main stairs leading to the double doors of the new throne room. He nodded to me and together, we stepped inside.

  The entire Bleeding Crown Coven, along with other guests, filled the hall. We took our time walking down the long aisle leading to the platform and the two chairs placed upon it. Nathaniel and Macron were both there waiting for us.

  Nathaniel grinned at us both then shifted his gaze to Draven. “You have come before the Bleeding Crown Coven to claim the rightful title of our ruler. Do you swear to do all in your power to keep them safe?”

  “I do,” Draven declared firmly.

  “Do you swear to uphold our laws?”

  “I do so swear.”

  “And do you, Draven, swear from this day forward to never falter in your duties as our ruler? To be there when we need you most? To guide us through our darkest days?”

  Draven hesitated for a split second then bowed his head. “I swear to do all that is asked of me.”

  Nathaniel beamed at him then stepped aside as Macron came forward. He placed his hand on Draven’s chest and closed his eyes.

  Draven barely flinched as Macron’s hand glowed then faded almost as quickly. He stepped back, and Draven turned as he opened his shirt to reveal the brand on his chest. The vampires behind us clapped and cheered to see the Bleeding Crown finally replacing the burned-on sigil Rudarius placed there so long ago.

  Draven closed his shirt and turned to me, taking my hands in his. “As ruler of the Bleeding Crown Coven, it is my duty to find a suitable wife, which I have done,” he said with a smile. “And to make her a part of this family. Seneca, dark fae of the Sa’ren, do you swear to always be loyal to the Bleeding Crown Coven?”

  “I do so swear.”

  “And will you do whatever is in your power to keep them safe? To uphold our laws, and guide them through their darkest days? To be at my side forever and always?”

  I squeezed his hands as I replied, “I will do all that is asked of me.”

  His lips twitched, and he glanced to Macron, who bowed his head and came toward me this time. He held his hand toward my chest, and a feeling of completeness filled me as his palm glowed. Macron held out a small mirror to me so I could see it fully. When I looked, a small sigil was there matching the one on Draven’s chest. Or mostly matching it. Draven’s brow furrowed as he glanced to me then Macron.

  “What, what’s wrong?” I asked, wondering why there were different lines where the blood dripped from the crown. They twisted and turned like vines, curling up through the crown, too. And there at its center was a crescent moon.

  “New legacy indeed,” Draven whispered and smiled. He flinched, then hurried to undo his shirt.

  The Bleeding Crown that had been there before shifted and changed right before our eyes so it matched mine.

  “What is this?” I asked Macron, worried I messed everything up. “Is this bad?”

  “No,” Macron replied. “This is the future, your future, together. The start of a new era for the coven you two will form.”

  “To our rulers,” Nathaniel called loudly. “Long may they reign!”

  Rulers? Draven’s eyes widened, too, but the hall exploded in more applause and shouting of Nathaniel’s words. Covens never had kings. Draven leaned in and whispered to Nathaniel, but he merely nodded to the rear of the room.

  One by one, the leaders of the vampire covens entered and approached.

  Wendall led the way, and when he sank to one knee, bowing his head, Draven froze. “My lord,” he uttered with a wink.

  Carter was right behind him and did the same. Theo and Vince followed their lead, and lastly came a new vampire, one I hadn’t met yet. She too sank to one knee but looked up at Draven, sadness in her eyes.

  “Petra was weak, and I can never ask you to forgive her, but I hope you will learn to trust me.”

  “Bianca, yes?” Draven asked.

  “Yes, Lord.”

  “You and yours fought against Rudarius. There is no question of your loyalty or theirs. Though,” he said as he turned around to glare at Nathaniel, “there is a question of what you all are doing.”

  Wendall looked up with a huge grin on his face. “Who else would we follow, eh?”

  Draven seemed at a loss for words.

  “We were fools to never think we needed a good ruler,” Vince told him. “Rudarius was able to move into that void and look where it got us? Fighting amongst ourselves and leading to a war that could’ve destroyed everything. We need a ruler, Draven, and you’ll make a fine one. You and your queen.” He bowed to me, and I smiled softly.

  “Right,” Draven said, nodding as he reached for my hand, “what do you say? Ready to be a queen?”

  “I don’t think they’re giving us much of a choice,” I whispered, and the coven leaders laughed at my statement. “So, yeah. Why the hell not?”

  “Good. Now then, to the festivities?” Wendall asked as he stood.

  Draven clapped him on the shoulder. “Always one for celebrating. Time for a feast,” he announced to the hall. As everyone filed out of the room excitedly, he pulled me with him behind the thrones and into a small, secluded alcove. “Well, my queen, this is certainly not what I expected.”

  “Me neither. It’s gonna be fun, though right?”

  “Fun?”

  “Yeah, fun.”

  His eyes darkened as he held me close. “You and I have a very different idea of fun.”

  I smirked wickedly as I trailed my fingers down his branded chest. I leaned in closer and whispered against his ear, “The feast can wait.”

  Our laughter trickled out from the alcove as the festivities started without us.

  That was just fine by me.

  Now I was going to be ruling alongside the man who stole my heart away and put me back together.

  The man I would never be parted from.

  Fun future indeed and I couldn’t wait to get started.

  Keep reading for an excerpt from another Ciara Graves series!

  Excerpt: Acts of Mercy

  Mercy Temple Chronicles Book 1

  Mages. Sirens. Demons. Dragons. Gryphons. A Federal Paranormal Unit. At
tackers of magic. The Mercy Temple Chronicles will hook you!

  Mercy Temple lives in a world where paranormals are a thing. Humans know of their existence, but the two species don’t interact. Or so it is thought. She’s a bounty hunter and works for another bounty hunter. One that she has a love/hate relationship with. He knows her secret and that’s how he keeps her working for him. But still, he pays her well.

  Rafael is a demon. He isn’t a good guy, but not a bad guy either. He wants to know Mercy’s secret, but he has one of his own. He works for the Federal Paranormal Unit. Undercover. And he is hunting the same person she is.

  Warning: Unputdownable action-packed fantasy, with mages, sirens, demons, dragons, gryphons and a Federal Paranormal Unit

  Chapter 1

  Mercy

  Every breath I took made my stomach churn and wished I hadn’t eaten anything today. Why did the Underground always have to stink? And it wasn’t a normal stink, like rotten food or bad eggs. No, this was leftover meat scraps from the goblins who made this place their home. It was also the sharp metallic tang of blood left over from the vampire feedings.

  I hated the Underground. Hated wading into what was essentially enemy territory for someone like me. Goblins and vampires ran the Underground jointly, for the most part, but all kinds made this place their home.

  No sunlight. Hence, custom-made sense for vampires and ghouls. And a few others who shunned the daylight and preferred the darkness.

  But back to the stink, god it was awful. Gagging sounded like a great idea, but I knew that eyes watched my every move. One sign of weakness down here and it might be the last damned thing I did.

  Gag?

  There was no way I was going out like that.

  Most of the denizens moved out of my way when they saw me coming. Good. Being feared in our world was better than being accepted. Everyone left me alone, and that was exactly what I wanted. To be left alone. Safer to be alone—especially right now when I was about to walk into a bar owned by a goblin who hated me and had said countless times how much he wished he could just kill me and eat me, be done with it. Said I’d fetch a pretty price dead. That I had no doubt of.

  Bounty hunters were big targets, but I’d managed to keep myself alive so far. And thankfully, the bastard goblin owner ran multiple establishments throughout this sector and others, and he was rarely actually here. I dealt mostly with the werewolf bartender and the bouncer, whom I spotted as I approached. I stepped up to the entrance to the Wailing Siren.

  Wouldn’t you know it, I was intercepted by a tall figure with crossed arms. Pointy ears, fangs, red eyes, and pale skin were a dead giveaway—vampire. His white hair was slicked back as always, shoulder length, and his black shirt was tight across a lean, muscled chest.

  If he wasn’t constantly popping up on my radar, I might’ve considered hitting on him. Still debated it some days. But I made it a rule, not to date targets. Not like a vampire like him would find me attractive. His muscles bulged, and I took a half-second to admire the muscle, then noticed his arched brow. “Turn around.”

  “What? Come on, Bowen,” I sighed. “Can we not do this today?”

  “Who are you after?”

  “Nnnn-yeah.” I flashed him what I hope was a somewhat friendly smile. “Not going to give you a name.”

  He shrugged. “Then I can’t help you. If you tell me, I can send him—or her—out.”

  I gave him a side-eye. “Right. Or you’ll warn them to run out the back, and I’m not in the mood to chase anyone. Hurt my foot the other day. I’m tired. Plus, I missed my coffee because of this asshole. So can we skip ahead to the part where I threaten you, and you give in and let me pass?”

  Baring his fangs at me, he hissed, until I pulled out the paper. The one with his name on it.

  His eyes narrowed. “What is that?”

  “I’ve had this for a few weeks, but I’m being nice and saying that I haven’t seen you,” I said, matter-of-factly. Because everyone knew that no one in the Underground ever gave up anyone else. It was the code down here. One I hoped I would never have to rely on. “I like you, Bowen, and compared to this piece of shit, your crimes are tame. Lame, even. Let me in there, or I’ll take you down instead.”

  He was silent, studying my face.

  “Let me pass, and I’ll burn this little paper up.” I reached in my pocket and pulled out a lighter. “Don’t you like our relationship?”

  “What else are you going to threaten me with?” His red eyes flickered for a split second with a look I could only describe as desire, then it was gone, and I was left wondering if I’d seen it at all.

  Clenching my jaw, I mentally yelled at myself to get a grip and not give into the notion that Bowen would ever see me as anything but a bounty hunter—a threat. “I’m not, but this gob I’m chasing? He killed kids, Bowen, human and supernatural. Killed them and ate them.” I repressed a shudder. “So will you please let me pass so I can grab the son of a bitch? Please?”

  Bowen’s crimes were normal for vampires. Stealing blood, biting the unknowing victim now and again. The bounty on him was put out by the Federal Paranormal Unit, and no way in hell was I going to help them. Well, unless it was worth my while. Bowen typically gave me intel if he was in a mood. Taking him out of the picture would only make situations like this worse. He glared at me once more, then nodded, indicating the area behind him.

  “Go on. But…” He paused for emphasis. “…but if anyone sees that you’re armed, it won’t be pretty,” he warned quietly.

  “Who said I was armed?” I asked innocently, flicking the lighter beneath his arrest order.

  “I can smell the silver on you. Get going before you cause me any more trouble.”

  Smirking, the scorched page in hand, I tucked the lighter away. “Always a pleasure.”

  He huffed, clearly not agreeing with me, and stepped aside.

  The bar inside appeared as any human dive bar I’d had the joy of walking into. The lighting was dingy, not dark, but dirty. Goblins filled the place. There were a few vampires. And a werewolf pack took up the far corner. The second I stepped foot in the place, the noise level dropped for a second then turned to angry whispers.

  A quick inventory of the place, and there he was, my mark, hunched over at the bar. His dark grey skin and sharply pointed ears were just like so many other goblins. His right ear was missing the tip, and the other was pierced from one end to the other—with teeth. Yeah. This guy was going to be fun to take in. Goblins might be smaller in stature, but they were vicious assholes. They could chew your arm off if you weren’t careful.

  My pistol was holstered at my right side. My sword was collapsed on my left hip. The handcuffs were tucked at the small of my back—silver-plated and charmed—so whoever wore them couldn’t break free. Each step brought me closer to my target.

  His head lifted slightly as he sniffed the air. He spun around on the barstool, chuckling as he turned to face me. His beady black eyes narrowed on my face as he leaned back against the bar top, gob tribal tattoos covering his head where hair would have been.

  “What you want, girl?” he asked in a deep drawl.

  Girl.

  Like he had room to talk. He barely looked older than me. I was tempted to rough him up a bit just for that.

  “Taking you in. How we go is up to you.”

  He shrugged. “You think you’re going to get me in those cuffs of yours? You might be good, but you can’t snag the likes of me, Mercy.”

  Returning his smile, I pushed my long, black leather jacket aside, showing him I was indeed still armed. “A killer? I eat your kind for breakfast, Rufus. Now get your ass off the stool and come with me so this doesn’t get ugly.”

  He scratched his nose, not seeming to have a care in the world. “I like ugly things. In fact, it’s why I like you so much, even if you are a sad excuse for a supe.”

  Supe.

  Supernatural.

  Now he was trying to be insulting.

  T
rying.

  I was far from a sad excuse for a supe. At least, as far as I was concerned.

  On the outside, my face remained blank, but inside, I imagined all the different ways I could beat the shit out of him on our way back to the office where I’d turn him over.

  Rufus stood suddenly.

  I braced myself, but he merely ran his finger down his right cheek from the corner of his eye to his chin, eyeing me with a new look I did not like.

  “In gob terms, ugly is the same as beautiful.”

  I barked a laugh.

  His eyes darkened as his hand fell.

  “Are you seriously trying to flirt with me?”

  “As I said, I like ugly things, Mercy, and we all know who you are. The bounty hunter who is always alone. The hunter who believes herself indomitable. One of these days you’re going to wish you sided with us. With me. You know, give yourself some allies.”

  “I’m good, thanks,” I replied. “Not about to date or be friends with a gob who eats kids and picks his teeth with their finger bones.”

  His lip twitched. “What can I say? I have a sweet tooth.”

  Stomach roiling, I was more than ready to get this asshole in cuffs and out of this damned place. “Tell you what, come with me, and maybe we’ll go on a date on the way in, huh? How does that sound?”

  Rufus appeared to be seriously considering the offer, and I wondered briefly how truly desperate I was to have someone else in my life that I was even suggesting a date with a goblin. Not that it would ever happen, but when was the last time someone I just met didn’t stare at me like I was a monster, too? Like I was attractive.

  I might be a bounty hunter, but damn, was it too much to ask that I got to have some fun now and again? Go out for a night that didn’t end with me beaten up and bloody, dragging some cuffed bastard off?

  Rufus’s eyes darted to the right.

  I ducked at the last second.

  An arm swiped over the top my head.

  I spun around, in the middle of ducking, kicking out the goblin’s legs. He hit the floor with a thud. I kicked him in the face, knocking him out.