Kresley Cole - Pleasure of a Dark Prince

Dedicated to the Immortals After Dark readers,

for sharing a love of the Lore with me

and for spreading the IAD word.

Thank you all!

“…and those sentient creatures that are not human shall be united in one stratum, coexisting with, yet secret from, man’s.”

* Most are immortal and can regenerate from injuries. The stronger breeds can only be killed by mystical fire or beheading.

* Their eyes change to a breed-specific color with intense emotion.

* Also known as Loreans.

“When a maiden warrior screams for courage as she dies in battle, Wóden and Freya heed her call. The two gods give up lightning to strike her, rescuing her to their hall and preserving her courage forever in the form of the maiden’s immortal Valkyrie daughter.”

* They take sustenance from the electrical energy of the earth, sharing it in one collective power, and give it back with their emotions in the form of lightning.

* They possess preternatural strength, speed, and senses.

* Without training, most can be mesmerized by shining objects and jewels.

* Also known as shield maidens.

“A proud, strapping warrior of the Keltoi People (or Hidden People, later known as Celts) was taken in his prime by a maddened wolf. The warrior rose from the dead, now an immortal, with the spirit of the beast latent within him. He displayed the wolf’s traits: the need for touch, an intense loyalty to its kind, an animal craving for the delights of the flesh. Sometimes the beast rises…”

* Also called werewolves, war-wolds.

* Each possesses the Instinct , an inner guiding force, like a voice whispering in one’s mind.

* Enemies of the Vampire Horde.

* Two warring factions, the Horde and the For-bearer Army.

* Each vampire seeks his Bride , his eternal wife, and walks as the living dead until he finds her.

* A Bride will render his body fully alive, giving him breath and making his heart beat, a process known as blooding .

* Tracing is teleporting, the vampires’ means of travel. A vampire can only trace to destinations he’s previously been or to those he can see.

* The Fallen are vampires who have killed by drinking a victim to death. Distinguished by their red eyes.

“In the first chaos of the Lore, a brotherhood of vampires dominated by relying on their cold nature, worship of logic, and absence of mercy. They sprang from the harsh steppes of Dacia and migrated to Russia, though some say a secret enclave, the Daci, live in Dacia still.”

* The Fallen comprise their ranks.

“…his crown stolen, Kristoff, the rightful Horde king, stalked the battlefields of antiquity seeking the strongest, most valiant human warriors as they died, earning him the name of Gravewalker. He offered eternal life in exchange for eternal fealty to him and his growing army.”

* An army of vampires consisting of turned humans who do not drink blood directly from the flesh.

* Kristoff was raised as a human and then lived among them. He and his army know little of the Lore.

“…immortal possessors of magical talents, practitioners of good and evil.”

* Mystical mercenaries who sell their spells.

* Separated into five castes: warrior, healer, enchantress, conjurer, and seeress.

* Led by Mariketa the Awaited.

“…their origin unknown, their presence chilling.”

* Spectral, howling beings. Undefeatable and, for the most part, uncontrollable.

* Also called the Ancient Scourge.

“Only through death can one become an ‘other.’ ”

* Some beings, such as the Lykae, vampires, and demons, can turn a human or even other Lore creatures into their kind through differing means, but the catalyst for change is always death, and success is not guaranteed.

“And a time shall come to pass when all immortal beings in the Lore, from the Valkyrie, vampire, Lykae, and demon factions to the phantoms, shifters, fey, and sirens…must fight and destroy each other.”

* A kind of mystical checks-and-balances system for an ever-growing population of immortals.

* Occurs every five hundred years. Or right now…

Some secrets can never be known. They go to

the grave with you like children never born.

— LUCIA THE HUNTRESS,

Valkyrie of mysterious origin,

world’s most skilled archeress

If I have to scour the entire earth, I’ll hunt her

down. I will no’ falter. One day I will bring

my female back to my home—back to my

bed…. She was born to be found by me.

— GARRETH MACRIEVE,

king of all Lykae

Thrymheim Hold, the Northlands

Home of Skathi, goddess of the hunt

In ages long past…

Lucia the Maiden cracked open her eyes and found herself atop an altar, staring up at a furious goddess. Somehow her younger sister, Regin the Radiant, had found Skathi’s temple and had brought Lucia here.

From one altar to the next , she thought deliriously as her fever raged. Pain roiled inside her broken body. Her fractured limbs… never had she imagined such agony.

“You deliver this into my sacred place,” Skathi the Huntress of the Great North said to Regin, “and desecrate my altar? You court my wrath, young Valkyrie.”

Regin—all of twelve years old, with Lucia’s blood covering her glowing skin—said, “What can you do? Torture my sister? Murder her? She has already survived the first and is about to succumb to the second without your aid.”

“I could murder both of you.”

In answer, Regin pursed her lips, looking as if she were sizing up Skathi’s shins for a good kicking.

Lucia struggled for consciousness, labored to speak. “Don’t hurt her, please… my fault, my fault…” But her words were drowned out by a rumbling boom. This hold was carved into the heights of Godsbellow Mountain, shaken continually by thunder.

Skathi asked Regin, “Why bring her here?”

“Because you’re both neighbor and nemesis to the one who did this.”

Had interest flickered in the goddess’s eyes? “The Broken Bloody One?”

“Aye.”

Canting her head at Regin in an appraising way, Skathi said, “You’re not even old enough to be a true immortal yet. For one so powerless and insignificant, you dare much, Valkyrie.”

“For Lucia, I dare this and more,” Regin answered proudly. “Best be forewarned.”

“Regin!” Lucia gasped. The girl had lost her mind.

“What?” She stomped her foot. “What’d I say?”

Instead of smiting Regin, the goddess impatiently gestured for her guards, the legendary Skathians. They were renowned archers, all females who underwent grueling training rituals to serve the goddess. “Take the glowing one down the mountain. Make sure she does not remember the way back.”