ROMAN: Fury of Her King (Kings of the Blood Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page A

liquid in one gulp.
    Wiping his hand across his lips, he saw the tint of blood upon the
back of his hand just as the coppery aftertaste of what he had just consumed
hit his taste buds. Running from the tent, Romanus barely reached the sand
before expelling the contents of his stomach.
    Weaker than before and still spitting the blood from his mouth,
the General turned to his Commander and wailed, “Why? What have you done to me,
daímonas?”
    “I have done nothing but grant you the gift of eternal life,”
Viktoras calmly answered, stepping forward to hand Romanus a wet cloth to wipe
his face.
    Stumbling away, the General spat, “But at what cost? My immortal
soul? It is as I feared. You are sent from Hades.”
    The Commander stopped and shook his head. “Why must you fight your
destiny, Romanus? I tire so of your stubbornness.” Viktoras took another step
forward, to which the General took two backward to escape the demon’s touch,
causing the Commander to sigh. “Stay out in the sun and waste away if that is
your wish. But know that you will not die. You will only suffer…terribly. When
you have had enough, I will be waiting in the tent with more sustenance and the
answers to all your questions.”
    Staggering to the closest rock, Romanus sat with a heavy thud.
Shivers wracked his body as fire burnt through his veins and his stomach
cramped as if it were trying to escape the confines of his skin. Cold, clammy
sweat drenched his body even though the rays of the blazing sun above continued
to beat upon him like the slaver’s whip.
    Looking across the vast desert, Viktoras’ words echoed through
Romanus’ mind like an omen passed down from the gods…“You will not die. You
will only suffer…terribly.” The truth of the demon’s words only served to
torment the General and assure that whatever evil had befallen him was most
definitely from Hades himself.
    Unable to stand it anymore, the agony eating away at what little
sanity he had left, Romanus tried to stand but only made it as far as his
knees. He would face whatever fate had befallen him as long as the demon
parading as his Commander would bring an end to his torture. Dragging his pain
ridden body, one pull of his hand at a time, across the scorching sand, the
General slowly made his way to the tent.
    Pain wracked every fiber of his being. His vision blurred. His
body shook with such force he felt as though his joints would dislocate. Only
the steel resolve that had seen him through many campaigns pushed him to
continue towards his goal. Finally reaching the shelter, he rolled onto his
back and collapsed as soon as the top half of his body was under the cover of
the roof.
    Fighting to catch his breath, the scent of blood once again hit
him with the force of Zeus’ lightning. Convulsions unlike anything he had ever
known rattled his battered body. The breath was forced from his lungs. His head
flung back so hard he heard the crack of the bones in his neck. His hands
curled into fists so tight that his overgrown nails bit into the calloused skin
of his palms.
    More cracking of bone reverberated through the tent as his back
bowed off the cloth covered sand and his arms flung wide. His toes curled against
the bottoms of his feet with such fiery intensity that he believed they would
be torn from their sockets. As his eyes rolled back in his head, he glimpsed
his Commander kneeling beside his head and thought he heard him say, “Why must
you always fight the inevitable?”
    Opening his eyes, unsure if the memories flashing through his mind
like mismatched pieces of a child’s toy were all part of a dream or reality,
the General brushed the matted hair from his forehead and rolled to his side.
Taking in his surroundings, his visions began to take shape. They formed one
coherent recollection, which brought back the horror of his present situation,
at the same time that Viktoras walked through the tent flap and proclaimed,
“Romanus! It is good to see you back