Born of Blood
Contents (17)
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PUBLISHER'S NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © Woodward McQueen, LLC
Cover Design: Dar Albert @ Wicked Smart Designs
Published by Oliver-Heber Books
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Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Epilogue
Also by Sherrilyn Kenyon
About the Author
Prologue
There were days when it didn’t pay to be human.
Or Andarion.
And definitely not any combination of the two.
Today was just that day for Jayne Erixour. And as fire, blood, and unidentifiable body parts rained down upon her, she wished herself anywhere but where she was.
Closing her eyes, she tried her best to imagine another life. Another world.
Some safe place where children were wanted and protected. Where people were cherished, and they had someone they could put
their faith in.
Where betrayal was unknown and kindness was a given, not the exception. A place where life was something someone valued and not a cheap commodity that was bought and sold without a second thought.
Or worse, something thrown aside with reckless disregard.
Where every life didn’t have a price.
“Jayne!”
She opened her eyes at the sound of a warning call that preceded an incoming bomb screeching overhead. Her heart pounding, she dove for cover an instant before it impacted a few yards away.
Screams filled her ears as the dampeners she’d embedded in her eustachian tubes shielded her eardrums from the percussive damage. She choked on the sudden tears that came with the aftermath, refusing to let them fall. This was war and she was a soldier.
Even if she was only fourteen.
At least that was the lie she told herself. But inside, she was still a girl wanting to be home again. Safe. Protected. Wanting to feel her father’s arms around her.
Wanting to hear her mother telling her that everything was good, and that life was worth living. That the morning would come and return light to the landscape.
But that wasn’t today.
Today it sucked so much that she couldn’t even find a reason why she was fighting so hard for one more stinking breath.
Why bother?
A sane person would walk out and let the bombs end it all. One shot and all the pain and misery would be over.