King of Battle and Blood is coming on November 30, 2021. It’s the first book in a new series from Scarlett St. Clair, the author of the bestselling Hades x Persephone books. And Winter is Coming is honored to debut the second chapter!
King of Battle and Blood takes St. Clair’s fans from New Greece to the mysterious world of Cordova. The book explores the dark world of vampire king Adrian and the brave and beautiful Princess Isolde, who marries the enemy to save her kingdom.
If you missed the first chapter or want to read it again (and again and again), you can find it right here. Also, mark your calendars because the third chapter will be released here at Winter is Coming on October 30, kicking off the final countdown until the book’s release in November.
READ: Chapter 2 of King of Battle and Blood by Scarlett St. Clair
TWO
I had seen victims of vampires—humans who were on the cusp of change before their hearts were cut from their bodies and burned. I’d also seen bodies drained of blood, past the point of survival. But I’d never encountered an actual vampire.
“They look like us but are not us,” Killian’s father had warned during training. “They are fast. They will control your mind and drink your blood, and you will not survive. If you do, you will wish for death.”
Those were the truths I’d been told about vampires.
He’d never said how they were like us—that they could be beautiful, that their touch would inspire an acute desire beyond anything I’d ever experienced. Everything inside me was wound so tight, each breath was a reminder of how desperately I wanted to be touched.
“Isolde!”
But not by him.
Killian’s voice broke through the fog of my mind. He was close, and I did not want to be caught. There was too much to explain here in this clearing—the strzyga, my torn dress, the absence of blood.
I turned on my heels and fled.
The castle felt like it had doubled in distance. The walk was agonizing, and I grew frustrated, still feeling the effects of my encounter with the vampire. My body was warm, especially between my thighs, and I was hyperaware of how heavy and sensitive my breasts felt, rubbed raw by the woolen cloak I kept close. By the time I exited the tree line, I ached.
This was torture.
Was that what this was? Some cruel form of warfare?
I skirted the high, stone walls that rose ominously and cast me in a chill shadow. The walls were a complex system of forts, bastions, and towers that ran, uninterrupted, encircling High City of Lara and Castle Fiora. They’d been built over one hundred and fifty years ago after the birth of the monsters in Cordova—the start of the Dark Era. There were four gates that allowed entrance into High City. Two were actually useful, one for trade that led into the heart of the city. The other was for diplomats and offered a pleasing route along cobble roads to the gleaming white towers of the castle.
The other two gates were symbolic. One was for Asha, Goddess of Life, the other for Dis, Goddess of Spirit. Once, they would have opened at dawn, marking the waking of the city, symbolizing the balance of life and death. But since the birth of the vampires, Dis’s gate remained sealed, a decision that had been made by the kings of the Nine Houses. There were a few priestesses of Dis who admonished the decision, claiming that the plague of the monsters would only grow worse—and they hadn’t been wrong. It was why all villages across the Nine Houses had high walls and gates that closed before sunset and did not open until sunrise.
Except for tonight.
Tonight, the gates would open to allow the Blood King and his people within our walls. It would be the first time since they were built that the gates would remain open.
I approached the one for diplomats. Usually, I liked to enter through the trade gate and meander through the streets, visiting my favorite vendors for flowers and meat pies, but since my encounter in the wood, I needed to change and time to myself.
“Princess,” one of the guards at the gate said. His name was Nicolae. He was young, his face doughy and pale. The other, who was silent and stoic, was named Lascar. He was olive-skinned and large, his body almost too big for the sentry box behind him. Both soldiers were new to the royal guard. I liked the new recruits because they were easy to sway—all I had to do was smile, stroke their ego, and they’d pretend they never saw me slipping outside the gates at night.
That was before they’d all been roused in the middle of the night last week to find me, before the two guards who’d let me slip by were dishonorably discharged and relegated to the duties of a stable hand.
“Returning without escort, I see,” Nicolae said. He tried to sound stern, but he had too much light in his eyes for that.
“Commander Killian stayed at the border,” I said.
Nicolae’s eyes shifted over my shoulder, and he raised a dark brow. “Did he?”
I turned, spying Killian as he came out of the tree line. His ridiculous cape fluttered menacingly behind him.
I quickly turned back to Nicolae and smiled. “He must have…changed his mind.”
“Do you need escort to—”
“No,” I cut him off, and to soften the blow, I placed my hand upon his shoulder, holding my cloak tightly with the other. “Thank you, Nicolae.”
I hurried through the gates and was immediately greeted by the towering figure of Asha’s Sanctuary on the right. The stone was white and brilliant, the colors of the hand-painted stained glass vibrant. Opposite the structure was the crumbling edifice that was Dis’s Sanctuary. The building itself looked like a shadow, crafted from volcanic rock imported from the Islands of St. Amand. The windows that weren’t broken or boarded were dark, pointed, and lead-paned. Very few visited the Sanctuary of Dis, and only called upon the priestesses when death neared.
I kept an equal distance from both as I passed, having never felt inclined to worship either goddess. My father would criticize me, but I had no desire to offer my loyalty—not the one who brought monsters to our world, nor the other who let it happen.
Beyond the sanctuaries, there were a series of beautiful plaster buildings—a combination of homes, shops, and inns—all with thatched roofs and window boxes full of colorful flowers. Beyond that, was a short wall that marked the start of the royal grounds. A line of trees offered privacy to those of the court who wished to use the royal gardens for exercise or games. Since it was nearing sunset, most were indoors—of which I was thankful. The ladies of the court fawned over me. I liked many of them, but I found it hard to tell who was genuine in their attention, given that I suspected many only wanted my favor because I would be queen one day.
I crossed the wide yard and edged along the castle wall toward the back, entering through the servant’s quarters to avoid being pulled into needlework and gossip about the Blood King. I headed up a narrow staircase just to the left of the entrance, the friction of my thighs was almost unbearable. I was so frustrated, both by the desire burning low in my stomach, and by whatever magic still had its claws inside me. How could I possibly still be so consumed by this desperate need for release? Flight after flight, I grew more heated, my mind wandering to how the vampire had held my head, how he’d touched my lips and drew words from my mouth. I wondered what other sounds he might coax from my throat as those fingers explored other sensitive and swollen parts of my body.
Your thoughts are disgusting, I chided, and then more kindly reminded myself that I was only thinking those things because I was under some spell.
After six flights of stairs, I made it to my room. Once inside, I leaned against the prickly, wooden door. I’d held my breath for most of my ascent because I couldn’t stop thinking about sex and the vampire who looked like some kind of beautiful savior, but was really a monster. I thought of him now, as my hand drifted down my stomach to my center where my swollen clit rose to meet the brush of my hand. I groaned and ground into my hand, desperate to feel pleasure thread through my body, desperate to come so that I might also release the image of this vampire and his magic. This was what he wanted—to drive me to this moment—and he had done nothing to earn it. He hadn’t spoken erotic things, kissed me, or caressed my skin—and yet his face came to my mind, unbidden.
My frustration was palpable, and I thought I could hear his laugh echo in my mind—the one he’d offered in the clearing, amused, dark, arrogant.
By the goddess, I hated him.
I gathered my skirts into my hands until I could feel the curls at the apex of my thighs, then the pad of my fingers brushed against my clit. It strained against my touch, sensitive with need, still so tight, practically preening. I held my breath as my fingers drifted closer to the heat and slickness of my core, and I swore I’d never been so wet.
It has to be magic, I thought, and yet my stomach knotted with tension, shame, and guilt.
I drew my middle finger down my opening, gathering the slickness—before a knock erupted from behind me.
I froze, fingers poised to slip into my heat.
“My lady, are you in there?”
Nadia, my maid, was on the other side of the door. She’d been my nursemaid from the time I was born, and we’d formed a close bond. She was the only maid or servant in the castle I spent time with outside of her usual duties. It was a relationship the court found strange, and only the brave would comment on, but I didn’t care. Nadia was the mother I’d never had, and I loved her.
Except right now. Right now, I wanted her to go away. I wasn’t ready to give up the chase for release, so I slipped a finger into my flesh and released a slow breath.
“My lady, I know you are in there.”
If I ignore her, maybe she will go away, I thought.
I was so wet, I could barely feel anything—I needed more girth, needed to feel full and stretched. I added another finger, my head pressed hard into the door behind me, my palm slid up my body to my breast, squeezing, kneading, teasing through the ruins of my dress. All the while I thought of that monster in the woods. The one who looked like a man, had held my head in his large hands, stroked my lips with his lithe fingers, pressed his hard body against mine. If he had kissed me, I would have succumbed. I would have let him fuck me and it probably would have meant my death, but at least I would have known passion on my way to the Spirit.
“My lady?”
By the fucking goddess.
I gave a frustrated growl and withdrew, dropping my skirts. I whirled on my heels and threw open the door.
“What, Nadia?” I snapped. If Nadia insisted on interrupting, then she would have to deal with my mood—except she knew me and didn’t even flinch. She stood opposite me looking very much unimpressed. Her long dark hair was braided and threaded through with silver—those pieces whispering around her thin face, creating a frizzy halo. Her darkened skin was smooth, though, and her only wrinkles were the ones around her eyes—which remained dark and lively.
“I have come to help you prepare for tonight.”
I blinked at her, confused. “Tonight?”
“For the Blood King’s arrival.”
I rolled my eyes and backed away from the door, twisting so my skirt twirled around me. The movement, helpfully, cooled my legs and released the tension in the bottom of my stomach.
“I do not care how I look for the Blood King.”
“I’d rather not doll you up, either, but you are a princess, and as such, should look like one when you stand at your father’s side.” Nadia followed me into my room and closed the door behind her.
My room was small and the bed took up a fair amount of space, allowing for little else save for a trunk full of keepsakes and a wardrobe. I could have had a large suite, but I’d chosen this one because of the view—the window below looked down upon my mother’s garden.
“What were you doing in here, anyway? It took you a long time to answer the door,” Nadia said as she stoked the fire.
Even if I had noticed the chill, I would not have stirred the embers. I was afraid of fire, even contained. I did not like the sounds, the crackles or pops. I did not like the smell of smoke or even the heat, but it truly was too cold to go without, and so I let Nadia keep it going.
“Sleeping,” I said, falling onto my bed, staring up at the velvet blue canopy.
I was still insanely uncomfortable, but it was probably best Nadia had interrupted me. Otherwise, I would have continued to masturbate to the monster in the woods—his touch and smell and feel—and would have hated myself even more than I already did for it.
I sighed.
You are a victim, I told myself—though I hated admitting it. We’d been taught from a young age that vampires were sexual creatures and they often cast spells that filled even the most pious with lust.
It really didn’t help that I wasn’t pious.
“You were not,” Nadia said, straightening from her place before the fire. She pointed the poker at me. “I just watched you run up six flights of stairs.”
“I was in a hurry to sleep.”
She arched a brow and dropped the poker to her side. “And escape Commander Killian, I hear.”
I rolled my eyes. “Commander Killian is needy. I am not.”
“He would make a fine husband,” Nadia countered, and I recoiled at how fanciful she sounded.
I sat up and gaped at her. “Did you not hear what I just said?”
Nadia was forty-one and unmarried—which was perfectly fine, except to her. She wanted to be married, and her thoughts on the subject were very much that of the majority of Cordovians, meaning that anyone over the age of eighteen and unmarried was considered an old maid, and the rush to marry stemmed from the fact that more people were dying young.
I was twenty-six and perfectly content to remain unwed, and I was very vocal about that—among other things—which the royal families and their peers found disturbing. It often led to unsolicited comments about how I needed to be tamed. Although, the last man to make that comment found himself facing the point of my dagger.
Needless to say, I had a reputation. But I would not accept a man who thought he could control me. My wish to remain unmarried also coincided with my feelings about love. Love was a risk I was only willing to take for my father, Nadia, and my people.
With more love, there was more to lose.
“I heard what you said. But what is wrong with needy? He would be devoted to you.”
“He would be controlling.”
And I’d have to sleep with him…regularly. I cringed, imagining a life of passionless sex and couldn’t do it. No, Commander Killian was not the man for me.
“You should not be so picky, Isolde. You know the male population is dwindling under the vampires. Soon you’ll have even fewer men to choose from.”
“Who says I have to choose?”
Father had not told me I had to marry. There were no political alliances to create because the Houses were united in their determination to defeat the Blood King…that was until my father decided to submit to him. Now, we’d been ostracized. If I hadn’t made a suitable bride before, I certainly wouldn’t now; though, I had a feeling more kingdoms would soon join my father in his decision to choose the lives of their people over the alternative.
“Every respectable lady marries, Isolde.”
“Nadia, we both know I am not respectable.”
“You could pretend,” she shot back. “You are a princess, blessed by the goddess, and yet you make a mockery of everything she has given you.”
My face grew flush with anger at Nadia’s words, and I rose to my feet. If she had been anyone else in my service, I would have dismissed her. But I knew Nadia. She was devoutly religious and dedicated to Asha—she had her own reasons for her beliefs, just as I had mine. I also knew she meant well despite herself, but that did not mean I shared her views. Even if Cordova had not been cursed with monsters, I could never show loyalty to the two goddesses who had taken my mother before I even had the chance to know her.
I was surprised at how calm I sounded when I spoke.
“The day Asha rids the world of the vampires is the day I honor her blessings, Nadia. Until then, I can only be who I am.”
She sighed, not in disappointment but in acceptance—her job was doomed from the beginning. She was supposed to raise me to be prim and proper—a lady who would eventually become Queen of Lara. What she’d gotten instead was me. I wasn’t sure what I was yet: untamed, wild, spirited—they were all words that had been used to describe me. Whatever I was, it did not fit a mold. But I did not think that made me a bad princess or that it would make me a bad queen. What it made me was someone who was willing to rule without a king—and that was something I wasn’t sure this world was prepared for.
“Well,” said Nadia. “If you must be who you are, the least we can do is have you look like a princess. What did you do to your dress?”
I let my eyes drop to my chest. In my frustration, I’d forgotten it had been ruined.
“Oh. I encountered a stryza on my return from the border.”
I saw no need to lie about that. We’d all been taught to fight, having been born in the Dark Era. It was a skill as necessary as learning to walk.
“If you had stayed with Commander Killian, you would not have had to fight.”
“I like fighting,” I argued.
Nadia’s eyes narrowed on my ruined bodice, and I knew she was connecting the dots—shredded, bloodied dress but no visible wounds.
“Besides, it barely brushed me,” I said quickly. “The blood is his…you know what happens when you hit a vein.”
Nadia shook her head and pointed toward my washroom. “Bath. Now.”
I obeyed quickly, happy to scrub away this day. Maybe I would get lucky and the water would quench the fire raging inside before it turned my bones to dust.
Winter is Coming will also post Chapter 3 of King of Battle and Blood on October 30, ahead of the book’s release on November 30. Be sure to preorder a copy of the book now!
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