VOLUME 2: CROWN OF SHADOWS
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END OF VOLUME 1: BOUND BY BLOOD
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Kieran and Rhydian have achieved the impossible—joint Apotheosis, immortality, and legendary power. But their journey has only begun.
Five Sealed Ones remain. Kingdoms plot in the shadows. And ruling as immortal god-kings comes with challenges they never imagined.
The saga continues in...
VOLUME 2: CROWN OF SHADOWS
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Three Days After Apotheosis
Immortality, Kieran discovered, came with paperwork.
So much paperwork.
He stared at the stack of diplomatic correspondence on the war room table, then at Rhydian, who looked equally overwhelmed.
"This is worse than fighting Sealed Ones," Kieran muttered.
"Agreed." Rhydian picked up a letter, scanned it, tossed it aside. "The Northern Vampire Council wants to 'discuss our recent ascension to godhood and its implications for territorial agreements.' Translation: they're terrified and want to make sure we won't obliterate them."
"Will we?"
"Depends on if they annoy me." Rhydian's grin was all fangs. "What's yours?"
Kieran opened his letter. "The Southern Werewolf Clans formally request an audience to 'witness the miracle of joint Apotheosis firsthand and pledge their eternal loyalty.' Translation: they want to see if we're really immortal or if it's an elaborate bluff."
"Everyone thinks we're lying," Lyria said from the doorway. She entered carrying another stack of letters. "Three kingdoms, twelve clans, and approximately forty individual nobles all want proof. Some are offering alliances. Others are making thinly veiled threats."
"Threats?" Rhydian's eyes flashed crimson. "Against us?"
"Against the Shadowlands. They're saying if you two are truly gods, prove it by sharing your power. If you can't or won't, then you're frauds who got lucky against Valdris." Lyria dropped the letters on the table. "Politics. Everyone wants a piece of the legendary power couple."
Through the bond, Kieran felt Rhydian's irritation. Felt his mate's desire to just blast everyone making demands and be done with it.
We can't kill everyone who annoys us, Kieran sent.
Why not? We're gods now. Gods can do what they want.
That's not how ruling works.
It should be.
Kieran suppressed a smile. Three days of godhood and Rhydian was already tired of the responsibilities that came with it.
"We need to make a statement," Dante said, limping in behind Lyria. His injuries were mostly healed, but he still moved carefully. "Show strength without actually having to demonstrate it constantly. Otherwise, we'll spend eternity proving ourselves to every kingdom with an opinion."
"A coronation," Silvara suggested, appearing in her usual dramatic fashion. "Formal. Public. Invite every major power. Crown Kieran as King-Consort officially. Show united front. Make it clear the Shadowlands is now ruled by immortal god-kings who won't tolerate challenges."
Kieran's stomach dropped. "Coronation? I'm not—I don't want to be—"
"You already are," Rhydian said gently. "You're my mate. My equal. You helped build this kingdom. You achieved Apotheosis with me. The title is just making it official."
"I was a hunter three months ago. I'm not qualified to be king."
"You killed two Sealed Ones and achieved godhood. I think you're qualified." Rhydian took his hand. "But if you truly don't want this, we don't do it. Your comfort matters more than politics."
Through the bond, Kieran felt Rhydian's sincerity. Felt how his mate would reject every diplomatic advantage if it meant Kieran was unhappy.
It was touching. Also impractical.
"Fine," Kieran said. "We do the coronation. But nothing too elaborate. I'm not wearing a ridiculous crown."
"The crown is non-negotiable," Lyria said, grinning. "You're going to look so pretty all dressed up and royal."
"I will blast you with moonlight."
"Kinky. But no thanks—Dante's more my type."
Dante choked on his drink.
The war room dissolved into laughter, tension breaking. For a moment, they weren't legendary immortal warriors—just friends planning an elaborate party.
Then a guard burst in, pale and shaking.
"My lords—there's someone at the gates. She says—" He swallowed hard. "She says she's Kieran's sister."
The room went silent.
"I don't have a sister," Kieran said slowly. "My parents died when I was ten. I was an only child."
"She has moon fae markings. Silver eyes. She looks—" the guard hesitated, "—she looks exactly like you. Just female."
Impossible.
But through the bond, Kieran felt Rhydian's sudden alertness. Felt his mate's instincts screaming that something was very wrong.
"Bring her to the throne room," Rhydian commanded. "Full guard. She doesn't move without twenty warriors surrounding her."
"You think it's a trap?" Lyria asked, hand already on her sword.
"I think it's incredibly suspicious timing. We achieve godhood, and suddenly Kieran's dead family rises from the grave?" Rhydian stood, pulling Kieran with him. "We're about to find out what game is being played."
Throne Room - Ten Minutes Later
She was beautiful.
That was Kieran's first thought when they brought her in. Silver hair, silver eyes, delicate moon fae features. She looked mid-twenties, moved with predatory grace, and yes—she looked eerily similar to him.
"Brother," she said, her voice like crystal chimes. "It's been so long."
"I don't know you," Kieran said flatly.
"No. You wouldn't. Mother hid me away when the vampires came. Protected me while Father fought. You were too young to remember—you were only three when I left." She smiled, sad and knowing. "I'm Serina. Your older sister."
Kieran wanted to call her a liar. But something in his gut twisted with recognition. Something ancient and primal that whispered family.
"Prove it," Rhydian demanded. He stood beside Kieran on the raised dais, every inch the Beast King. "Anyone can claim relation. Prove you're who you say."
Serina raised her hand. Silver light danced across her fingers—pure moon fae power. "Our mother was Elara Ashford, moon fae noble who gave up her title to marry a human hunter. Our father was Jonathan, best in his guild until vampires murdered him for revenge." Her eyes locked on Kieran's. "Mother used to sing us a lullaby. Do you remember it?"
And then she sang, voice soft and haunting:
"Sleep, little moonchild, under silver sky,
Dreams of starlight as centuries pass by,
You are magic, you are light,
You are the hope in endless night..."
Kieran's breath caught.
He knew that song. Had heard it in dreams, fragmented memories he'd dismissed as imagination. But hearing it now—
"How do you know that?" His voice cracked.
"Because Mother sang it to both of us. Every night until the attack." Serina's expression was grief and longing mixed. "I've searched for you for fifteen years, Kieran. Heard rumors of a moon fae hunter, a hybrid's mate, a warrior who achieved Apotheosis. I had to see if it was you."
Through the bond, Kieran felt Rhydian's suspicion warring with understanding. This could still be an elaborate deception. Shape-shifters existed. Mind-readers could extract memories.
But if she was real—
"Why now?" Kieran asked. "Why show up after I've achieved godhood? Convenient timing."
"Because before this, I didn't know if approaching you was safe." Serina's voice turned hard. "The Guild hunts moon fae, remember? I've been hiding my entire life, moving from kingdom to kingdom, never staying long enough to be found. But now?" She gestured at him. "Now you're an immortal god-king. You're safe. Which means maybe—maybe I can finally stop running."
Logic made sense. Timing was still suspicious.
"Lyria," Rhydian said quietly. "Truth detection spell."
The vampire moved forward, her magic manifesting as red threads that wrapped around Serina. The moon fae woman stood still, allowing the inspection.
After a long moment, Lyria's expression shifted to shock. "She's telling the truth. Or at least, she believes she is. No deception detected."
Kieran's world tilted.
A sister. He had a sister.
Family he'd thought died fifteen years ago was standing in front of him, real and alive and searching for him.
"I don't—I need—" He couldn't form words.
Rhydian's hand found his, steadying. Through the bond: Breathe. We'll figure this out together.
"Serina," Kieran finally managed. "If you're really my sister—where have you been? Why didn't you find me sooner?"
"I tried." Her voice broke slightly. "Went to the Guild orphanage where you were raised. They said you'd been recruited young, trained as a hunter, sent on missions. By the time I tracked you to any location, you'd already moved. You were always three steps ahead." She smiled through tears. "Mother would be so proud. You survived. Became powerful. Found love." Her silver eyes shifted to Rhydian. "The mating bond between you glows like a beacon. Soul fusion Apotheosis. I've only read about it in ancient texts."
"You study moon fae lore?" Silvara asked, speaking for the first time.
"I preserve it. Someone has to." Serina pulled out a leather journal from her coat. "Everything I could find about our people—our history, our magic, our extinction. I've been gathering knowledge for years, hoping to find other survivors."
"How many are there?" Kieran asked. "Other moon fae?"
Serina's expression went dark. "As far as I know? Just us. We're the last."
The weight of that settled over the room.
Last of their kind. An entire race reduced to two siblings.
"The Sealed Ones hunted us," Serina continued. "Before they were sealed, moon fae were their primary enemy. We had the power to kill them permanently. So they orchestrated our genocide. Turned kingdoms against us, spread lies, made us targets. By the time the Sealed Ones were finally imprisoned, moon fae were nearly extinct."
"And our parents?" Kieran asked quietly.
"Died protecting us. Buying time for me to escape with you. But the vampire who killed them—Marcellus—he didn't know Mother was pregnant with you. Didn't know Father had a son. They thought they'd ended the Ashford bloodline with me." She looked at Kieran with fierce pride. "You're the miracle they didn't count on. The moon fae who rose from ashes to become a god."
Through the bond, Kieran felt Rhydian's emotions—wariness, protectiveness, but also understanding. His mate had lost his family too. Knew what it meant to be alone.
What do you want to do? Rhydian asked silently.
I want to believe her, Kieran admitted. But I'm terrified it's a trick.
Then we stay cautious. Keep her close but guarded. Test her story. If she's genuine, we welcome her. If she's a plant— Rhydian's protective fury flared, —we handle it.
Kieran nodded imperceptibly.
"You can stay," he said aloud. "Guest quarters. Under guard—not because we don't trust you, but because we don't trust anyone right now. Too many enemies. Too much at stake."
Serina's smile was radiant. "I understand. Thank you, brother. Thank you for giving me a chance."
As guards escorted her out, Kieran felt the weight of new complications settling on his shoulders.
A sister. Knowledge of their extinct race. More questions than answers.
"This is going to get messy," Lyria predicted.
"Everything about our lives is messy," Rhydian countered. He pulled Kieran close, possessive and grounding. "But we handle it. Like we handle everything else."
"Together," Kieran murmured.
"Always together."
Through the soul bond, they felt each other's determination. They were gods now. Immortal. Powerful beyond measure.
But family made them vulnerable in ways no enemy ever could.
And somewhere in the shadows, someone was counting on exactly that.