Mountain of Bones 1

1

Three weeks since I’d buried my dagger in the king’s heart, and the world still smelled of his rotting reign.

Kalith Village, a small village in the outskirts of the kingdom buzzed like flies on a corpse. And in the Rusty Hinge inn, men toasted the king’s demise with ale thick enough to drown their own sins. Others, the ones who’d profited from his cruelty, drank in silence, their knuckles white around their cups. Most didn’t care. A dead king was just another corpse.

But I cared.

Because the bastard had laughed as he died.

And the "his" location was still unknown to me.

Mountain of Bones: Prologue

Killing the king was never supposed to be this easy.

But the stars must have aligned in my favor tonight, because here I stood, my gaze locked with his one remaining eye burning with defiance as he clutched the wound in his side. The scent of iron and magic hung thick in the air, the castle’s ancient stones humming with forgotten power.

My madness had finally caught up to me.

I stepped closer, my boots silent against the bloodstained marble. The hatred in his stare was bright, but the ache in my chest was greater.

"I know they trained you never to answer me," I whispered, my voice raw. "But for once in your wretched life, forget your pride. Tell me what I need to know."

He laughed, a wet, broken sound. "You’ll kill me regardless."