For SFS..Im editing Valkyrie 1 as we speak..so a little teaser.. :P
╔══ °❃*🔥*❃° ══°❃*🔥*❃° ══╗ Coming °❃*🔥*❃° Soon °❃*🔥*❃° Valkyrie Darkness Awaits The Novel Mark McQuillen & Mara Reitsma ╚══ °❃*🔥*❃° ══°❃*🔥*❃° ══╝ #EpicFantasy #Adultfantasy #Valkyries #PNR
The latest from Valkyrie 1 the Novel... :P
It was after nightfall when Malice arrived in what remained of the Goblin camp. Everything around her had been incinerated. The few that survived the calamity were huddled together in the caves, shaking in terror at her very presence. The only one that stood as she approached was their war leader, Zander. Such a vile little scum-bag, he made Malice’s stomach turn just from looking at him. According to their masters, she and the pathetic excuse for a soldier were considered equals, but there was no way she could ever compare herself to such as slimy, insignificant little mongrel like Zander. The things he did when no one was watching, the feel-goods he got when he… Malice shook the nasty thoughts from her mind, disgusted at the bastard’s parlor tricks. The masters care not about his actions, only that he acquired results. Looks like he failed this time, which put Malice higher on their useful list than Zander. Soon enough though, she wouldn’t have to worry about Zander, his hordes, or her stupid rank on the list. All she wanted, was Marena. “Tell me again, Zander, what happened to your forces?” She laughed and shook her head. Their masters were not going to be pleased that their new golden child had fucked up, royally. She was thrilled to revel in his demise, but she couldn’t afford to let the troops she it. She was cold. She was fierce. She could pick them off one by one and use their bones to clean her teeth; either way, they needed to fear her, in order to follow her. “As I said before, Dread Mistress, we were regrouping for the next attack, as the master’s commanded…” His eyes grew wide and he began to shake. “… when that Dragon called us all to arms, then took the air. We thought we were heading for battle, but she turned, reigning fire down on the lot of us.” He paused a moment to collect himself and Malice used the moment to mock him some more. “Yet here you are, unscathed and blubbering before me, while your men lay lifeless in the fields with no one to collect their souls.” She glared at him with a spark of hatred in her eyes, but only he could see it. Putrid, sniveling little weasel would get what was coming to him; and when it did, she would pay him back in full for every nasty little hand he’d lain on her. The time of Zander was almost at an end and her punishment would be over. She had only wait to hear what the masters would say and then poof, that wretched bastard would be hers to toy with. “So, out with it! Why are they dead, while you still draw breath?” She stood before him and crossed her arms over her chest. “Or, should we wake one of them, find out what really happened?” “There is no need for that.” He shook his head and clasped his hands behind his back. “The only reason I survived, is because I was down by the river filling my canteen.” “More like you were filling one of the hostages.” She growled at him, his disgusting nature written all over his face. “Your little fetish will get you into trouble.” “I got you, didn’t I?” He sneared at her and moments later felt the sting as the back of spiked gloves impacted with his jaw. “I would be careful choosing your words, for you are far too deep to dig yourself out already.” “I’ve risen in rank before.” He shot back, his slimey green skin, sweating profusely. “I just have to wait for you to fuck up again. It’s only a matter of time before the masters see you for who you really are…” His words died mid-sentence as that glove found its mark once more. “Fuck!” He growled. “Never again!” She hissed at him and with a swift kick, took out his left knee and sent him tumbling to the ground. “Traitorous bitch!” “Says the shit-stain who lost a Dragon and his troops.” “At least I didn’t disobey orders and tamper with the mind of a fucking Elf, and not just any Elf, but one of royal blood.” He spat back at her, clenching his knee with both hands. “Oh, I had orders, they just didn’t come from Pathen.” Malice laughed at him, her own voice warping as her anger grew. “Marwolaeth!” Zander growled as he glared back at Malice, her eyes a shade of blue he’d not seen in some time. “They let you…” “Are you happy to see us?” Malice’s lips moved, but it was the Host inside her who spoke. “You were to be confined.” Zander bore the look of confusion well. “Your actions condemned.” “No thanks to you!” A thousand voices circled him, all of them spewing with hatred and disgust. “But, we have been given a second chance to prove our love, and you will not stand in our way!” They added and Malice raised her hand and placed in on Zander’s forehead. “Tell us, what truly happened to your men?” The light began to pulse from her palm, enveloping the vile creature in an aura of warmth while she slipped into his thoughts and triggered the memories she wanted to see. “I was at the water’s edge, cleaning myself off.” He started in a monotone voice, his eyes so distant beneath her spell. “Why, did you need to clean yourself off?” Marwolaeth continued with the questions. “We were playing. It got messy.” “Did she survive?” The voices grew darker and Malice’s claws began to extend. “I don’t know. I went to the water’s edge to clean myself off before Malice returned.” “Oh, and why is that?” “She hates what I do.” “And what do you do?” Her curiosity was peaking and she was glad Marwolaeth had chosen now, to come out and toy with the bastard. “Whatever I want.” He replied with no emotion what so ever. “Most times, we play. Today, it got crowded, and bloody.” “And did you once think to order your men to cease in their enjoyments?” “No.” “We see your sins, written all over your face, but it is not our place to judge. That call remains with the council.” “They will not be pleased.” “No, they will not.” She laughed, “So you better explain what happened next, truthfully, if you have any hope in appeasing them.” “I heard the screams, too loud and too many to be the female. I looked up to the sky just in time to watch the Dragon lay down its first bolt of fire and I jumped in the water. When I resurfaced, the camp was gone and so were the men.” “That is all? The very truth of the matter?” Marwoleath was growing impatient with the scoundrel and wanted nothing more than to let her claws sink deep into his skull… “There was, one other thing. Those who survived speak of how the Dragon was acting before the attack. How she turned her head to one side and looked, lost.” Malice looked at the twinkling lights of Rihmsjalier across the hills. Drifting on the wind she could hear music playing and imagined the victory celebration in full swing. Among them was the male she’d encountered and the thought of him being able to speak with a Dragon had her cocking her head to one side in analysis. “But he’s from Earth, he couldn’t have...” She muttered out loud, her voice returning to normal as Marwolaeth retreat inside. “Who is he? Give me his name and the command, I will bring you his head.” Zander pleaded, still under the assumption he was speaking to the Host. “Silence, you fool, or you will lose your own head!” She stood lost in her own thoughts for a moment then turned back to the Goblin war chief. “Gather what remains of your tribe and return to Ghost Mountain, Zander. We have guests to prepare for.” She smiled, with a pretty good idea of what the Human’s next move would be. Bowing as he turned away, Zander grumbled under his breath before yelling at the survivors to get a move on. She knew exactly what his problem was and was only sorry she couldn’t make it any harder for him. He’d failed, though not on his own. The Elves had help. Mist and Sif, had help. “Could he really have convinced the Dragon to flip sides?” She whispered into the shadows before she vanished.
