Ascension Of The Blood Throne Read online

  Contents

  Map of Penumbra

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  The Rise of the Elites Collection

  Also by Mikel Wilson

  Ascension of the Blood Throne

  © 2021 Mikel Wilson

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Ascension of the Blood Throne

  Published by Amazon Publishing Inc.

  No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

  For permissions contact: [email protected]

  www.facebook.com/authorMichaelWilson/

  Cover by Kiff Shaik at Solidarity Graphics

  Edited by Becky Swafford Baldridge

  Formatted by Jennifer Laslie

  I would like to dedicate this book to some of the most amazing people I have ever had the chance to call my family and friends.

  To my wife, you have always been there with me since the beginning. You have given me the strength to follow my dreams and they have become a reality one piece at a time. I am forever grateful to have you in my life and honored that you chose to spend your life with me.

  To my children. Thank you for being my reason to be a better man. Holding you guys in my arms has made me push even harder to be the father you deserve. I love all of you: Jh, Mackinzie, Ayden and Emily my little mini-me’s. Daddy will love you forever!

  To my best friend, Rachael, thank you for being there. I can't believe I actually found my BFF soul mate. You helped me through some terrible times even though you were going through hell yourself. I am so happy we have been able to connect, and I will hold you in my heart forever.

  To Dawn, thank you for being you, a wonderful Aunt to my kids and an amazing person to me. I am thankful our paths crossed all those years ago. And I am thankful to have met you.

  To my friend, Susan, when I felt like giving up on writing, you pushed me to keep going. You promoted me, introduced me to people in the field, and took me under your wing. You always told me I was going to be the one that made it. I miss you so very much, and I promise to make you proud. Love you.

  Lastly, to my editor, Becky. You went through hell, and even though you were in pain, you found time to help me and be there for me through your grief. I am unable to tell you the gratitude I have for you. I will forever be grateful to you. I love you!

  Prologue

  The sun set in the horizon as the sylo birds began their song. Everyone in Penumbra, a magical world parallel to the human realm, knew what that sad, melodic tune meant. It was time for the leaders of Penumbra, known as the Elites, to gather at the temple Foci, to mark the beginning of a new season and the long-anticipated shift in power. For in Penumbra only two seasons exist. The first season was the Rising, when the dark powers were quieted, and the light blossomed. The second season was the Falling, when the light powers settled and gave way to dark energy. Now was the time of the Rising.

  Chosen by the High Spirit, the Elites were charged with keeping watch over the supernatural world and maintaining the balance between Light and Dark magic, both in their magical homeland and in the human realm. Each side was given its time to rule with the constraint that neither would shift the balance too far in their favor while at power. It’s a delicate balance that often found itself teetering, and if not for the meeting at Foci and the changing of seasons to keep matters in check, the opposing powers of Penumbra would have long ago gone to war and annihilated one another.

  Inside the colosseum, structured from the Earth itself, the Elites took their place. Those who were led by dark took to one side while the light took to the other. The Elites, along with their council and guards, settled in as the ceremony began. Typically, they would elect a member of each side to recount the season, noting anything of key importance before proceeding with the shift of power. This time was different. The Dark had tilted the hands of balance further than they should have during their rule and the air was tense.

  Just as the time came for the council to call their representatives, the hearts of every being in the room stopped. For the twelve deathly chimes rang for the first time in over two hundred years. One chime for each of the Original Elites. And as the first one split the air, the room grew cold, and silence descended on all those present. It was the moment every Elite dreaded. The chimes were the signal that an Elite’s rule would come to an end. Anxiously, they waited for the twelfth and final chime, and as the eerie proclamation finished its terrifying song, an altar appeared in the center of the room.

  A hooded being emerged from the altar, cloaked in shadows. The Prophet. She was the High Spirit’s messenger and her arrival confirmed that one of the Elites was doomed.

  “Six. Six to fall, six to rise, to right the wrong. Balance must be restored.”

  Whispers of shock spread through Foci. Six Elites would fall. This was the final call when their lives would end, and their life energy would return to the High Spirit. Every pair of eyes widened and darted around wondering which of them it would be. Some fell to prayer, while others stood tall, accepting the fate that was to come.

  Six chimes rang out and again they waited. The Prophet held her hand out and a scroll appeared. She began to read the names of those who would fall.

  The first to be called came from the side of the dark, the Shifter Elite, Cyrus Ostara. The six-foot-two blond haired wolf shifter stood from his seat as his council members stared in disbelief. He turned to his guard, Thomas, and nodded. As he climbed down from his seat, Mae Ching the female Jaguar shifter and council member stood to watch him. Cyrus approached the Prophet and as he did, he shifted to his wolf. He let out one final howl as his form vanished along with the sacred moonstone. The sound of his howl echoed throughout Foci for a moment longer.

  The second to be called brought some relief to the dark as it was a name from the light, the Orc Elite, Ryza the Black. This was not a punishment for their transgression, it was an equal playing field. Ryza was one of the largest Elites outside of the giants. He stood over seven feet tall and was built for battle. Like those before him, he made no protest. He turned to his clan members, bowed, and headed for the Prophet. On the side of the light, those he passed bowed their heads, a show of respect and gratitude for his service and his sacrifice. As he made it to the Prophet, the Orc stood tall as his spirit was claimed and his form vanished. A silver warrior's collar hung in the air. The blood-red knowledge stone at its core gleamed under the light. It disappeared like its master and would appear again on the neck of the chosen.

  The third to be called was a name that brought pause. The Dark Elite was the Irin, Anael. Five Irin had attended the Foci, including Anael and his triplet brothers, Remiel and Zerachiel. Their cedar-colored skin, stark-white brows, and bare-chested armor made them imposing figures. Born in the second generation of Angel rulers, Anael was one of the longest standing Elites and the only one who hadn’t appeared worried, until his name was called. With a tightened jaw, the eight-foot-tall Irin stood, along with his brothers. Suddenly, two sets of crimson wings spread from within him,
sparks of energy glittering as they moved. He took to the sky as if he would try to escape his fate, but a moment later he landed with a force so hard it cracked the floor of Foci. He turned looking only at his people, as the crimson color faded from his wings and he too disappeared.

  The fourth to be called was the Vampire Elite, from the Dark side Alexander stood. His pale skin stood in sharp contrast to the red glow of his eyes as he hissed, unhappy to have his name called. Unlike the others, the members of his clan seemed almost pleased with his demise. They forced somber expressions as their leader departed, heading for the Prophet. With each step towards the center of the Foci, Alexander lost the shield the Elite title gave to him. Though it was night, the sky opened with a beam of sunshine that met him at the base of the altar. Within moments the vampire, once impervious to the effects of the sun, began to disintegrate. His burning left a charred mark on the stone floor.

  The fifth to be called was the Dragon Elite, Horace who was once known as the devourer. He stood from his position on the side of the Light, turned to the other members of the House of the Blue Flame, and allowed his honey brown skin to partially shift to reveal the sea blue scales of his dragon. He plucked one scale from his arm and handed it to the council members. This was his gift to she who would replace him. In a vibrant show, he turned to descend the steps of the colosseum while allowing his Blue Flame to dance across his skin. When he reached the altar, he shifted into the massive beauty that was his dragon, shot one blue streak of fire into the sky, and by the time the light had faded, the dragon was gone.

  The sixth to be called was the Phoenix Elite, Paereon. The bird of fire sat perched on the highest level of the Foci looking down on his fellow Lights. When his name was called, his full lips lifted in a sad smile, and his mint green eyes glistened before shifting to a golden hue. Hanging around his neck was the Obsidian stone. Worn by each of the Phoenix Elites, it was a symbol of their strength. Accepting his fate, Paereon removed the stone and handed it to Olise, his trusted guard. She would ensure its safe handling until the new Elite was chosen. Allowing his flamed wings to blaze once more, he glided from his perch to the Prophet’s altar. Before his feet could touch the ground, the Phoenix turned to ash, never to rise again.

  With no more names to call, the Prophet’s scroll disappeared from her hands and the hollow voice spoke once more. “Six. Six have fallen, six will rise, to right the wrong. Balance must be restored.”

  Chapter One

  TWO MONTHS LATER IN NEW YORK CITY

  The cold air whistled through the buildings, and with the air came an unnatural mist, one that covered the Hudson river. A giant unmarked vessel appeared seemingly from nowhere and moved toward the shore. Inside this was an old wooden box carrying a precious cargo, something that would change the destiny of this city forever…

  Lillith was an exceptional teenage girl and it was impossible not to notice it. Her body moved with athletic grace that came from hard practice in track and lacrosse. Her strength was nearly unmatched in every sport she played and she had the awards to prove it. She possessed an almost preternatural beauty. She had no need for cosmetics to enhance her brilliant green eyes surrounded by thick black lashes, lightly tanned skin or curly brown hair that was sun kissed with seams of blonde. She walked with the arrogance that only the young can achieve, leaving behind her a slight turbulence of beauty. The young men that floundered and stuttered in her wake were often left speechless and ever so slightly off balance.

  She always continued through her day, through her life, completely accepting of her own feminine power as if it were nothing unusual. She made no apologies for it, nor did she flaunt it. She simply was.

  This particular day, she could be found on the subway with her best friend, Mackinzie, heading to their favorite restaurant to get a large pepperoni pizza. They stood on the subway, leaning into each other to whisper and giggle about the guys they liked and how school was going. Together they were the picture or teenage innocence in full bloom.

  Lillith had a crush on one of the football players, but she hadn’t worked up the courage to come right out and tell him.

  “Well, girl, are you ever going to tell him? I mean, it’s not like most of the guys have the guts to come and ask us,” Mackinzie asked while aggressively chewing her gum.

  “I would, but he is so dumb. It’s not like I haven't shown him that I’m attracted to him. I am so not the girly type and for me to be like Hey, you look good in that uniform was flirting... Hello!” Lillith said, annoyed.

  “Maybe I will send him a text message,” Mackinzie teased, giggling as she pulled out her trusty phone. “You better not!” Lillith squealed, struggling to get the phone away from her. They fell into fits of giggles and decided to take a selfie with the phone instead of grappling over it.

  As they struck a pose, the train stopped and as a man stepped on it was as if the very air around them grew thick and heavier. This slight shift in the atmosphere caught Lillith off guard and she felt her stomach pitch as if she were on a roller coaster. Her eyes were drawn to him in equal amounts of attraction and revulsion.

  The man’s attire was old fashioned and out of place. He stood over six feet tall and long, black curly hair hung down his back. Lillith was hit with a strong sense of deja-vu, as if she knew him. She found herself unable to look away and transfixed, she lost track of the conversation with her friend until she felt an insistent hand on her arm and heard her friend’s voice as if it were coming from far away.

  “Girl, hello! Earth to Lillith! What in the world are you staring at?" Mackinzie asked, one hand on her hip and the other pushing her sunglasses up on her nose before tucking her long dirty blonde hair behind her ear. Lilith’s voice quavered, "That guy over there with the strange clothes… Have we seen him before?"

  "Heck, no!" Mackinzie shuddered and covered her mouth as she let out a small giggle and then hoped the man didn't hear them.

  “Pier 146,” the conductor said over the intercom, signaling their stop. As the train slowed to a stop, the doors opened, and new passengers boarded as Lillith and Mackinzie exited the train.

  Lilith felt the hair on the back of her neck rise. Fear trickled down her spine and her feet stumbled briefly, her natural grace failing her. She felt like prey. She looked all around her for the source of her discomfiture until she thought she saw the man from the subway in her peripheral vision. She stopped and turned her head quickly, looking over her shoulder, but the peculiar looking man wasn’t there.

  The girls continued on, but as they walked up the long corridor a feeling of uneasy apprehension swept over them. They kept talking, but their steps fell faster and faster, the feeling building until it became nearly overwhelming. Their breathing increased, and their heart rate soared when at last, they could see the opening of the subway with daylight shining down the steps. Both breathed a sigh of relief, and a small skittish laugh escaped Lillith’s lips as they moved arm in arm toward the stairs.

  They were laughing at their own silliness when the man appeared seemingly out of nowhere. His face was turned down so that his long black hair covered his face until slowly he lifted his head to reveal the classical features that are normally reserved for Greek gods. His skin was tralucent and gleamed with creamy perfection, his mouth was full and inviting. Despite all of these coldly seductive features, it was his eyes that truly captivated and mesmerized. They were as green as emeralds and glowed softly as if something burned inside them. A gasp escaped Lillith’s lips and Mackinzie gulped audibly. Without being told, the girls knew they were being stalked by something not human.

  "Hello, ladies," he said with a thick English accent that should have sounded crisp, but somehow was smooth like very good wine. Lilith recognized that he was seductive; irresistible, but all the best traps were. He bowed to them, one hand behind his back. "I have come to offer you a gift."

  Mackinzie's hand slowly slid into her pink purse and put a strong grip on her emergency pepper spray. "Lillith, listen to
me, this guy is crazy. We are going to have to fight to get away," she whispered.

  Lillith nodded in agreement as she took a defensive stance next to Mackinzie.

  "Look, we aren't afraid of you. Go back to wherever you came from and keep your gift!" Mackinzie yelled. As the man continued his slow but deliberate gate toward them, he continued talking. "This gift is unlike anything this earth could offer. It is eternal life. I have lived in my realm for many years, dear maidens. My father was King of Taldor," he paused, seeming to gather his thoughts before continuing. “Now, I must take the throne, and I'm in need of a queen. You are so beautiful,'' he said, a lovesick look on his face as he gazed at Mackinzie. “Your beauty overwhelms me, and I must have you. I swear to you, we are destined to be together and you, sweet, beautiful one, are to rule at my side. Don't fret though,” he finished, turning toward Lillith, “you will, of course, not be left out. Seeing as you are an acquaintance of my bride to be, you shall be a perfect addition to my court.”

  Before the girls could even begin to process his words, he gently took Mackinzie’s hands in his and flew to the highest point of the subway’s ceiling. Hovering high above Lillith, his hands moved to Mackinzie’s waist, then around her as he wrapped her in his arms. Fear struck Mackinzie’s heart and words struggled to escape her lips when he whispered, "This will only hurt for a second,” before biting into her neck.

  The iron smell of blood filled the air as it ran down her shoulder and dripped to the floor in front of Lillith. He licked his lips and struck once more, inserting his fangs into the gaping holes in her neck while Mackinzie was fighting frantically to get away from him and stay conscious. She’d somehow managed to hold on to her pepper spray, and she brought it up, spraying him in the eyes, which turned out to be no more than a minor annoyance to this creature.