Viktor:Heart of Her King
Julia Mills
Kings of the Blood ~ Book 1
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Edited by Lisa Miller, Angel Editing Services
Proofread by Charlene Bauer with Wickedly Bold
Cover Designed by Linda Boulanger with Tell Tale Book Covers
Cover Model Tommy Barresi
Photographer Eric David Battershell with Eric Battershell Photography
Formatted by Charlene Bauer with Wickedly Bold
DEDICATION
Dare to Dream! Find the Strength to Act! Never Look Back!
Thank you, God.
To my girls, Liz and Em, I Love You. Every day, every way, always.
To Charlene, Your support is just amazing! This one's for you!
Index of Latin
as spoken by the Kings of the Blood
Custos Animae..........Keeper of My Heart
Te Amo..........I Love You
Saecula..........Forever
Amicus..........Friend
Amicorum..........Friends
Hodie Ipse Et In Saecula..........Today and Forever
Amica Mea..........My Love
Rex..........King
Deliciae Meae..........Darling
Dilectum Meum..........My Beloved
Cor Meum..........My Heart
Saietas..........Feeder
Ita Vero..........Yes
Imperator..........Commander
Vale..........Goodbye
Tuus sum..........I Am Yours
Tranquillitas..........Calm
Sum Rex Ab Eo..........My King
Sanguinem..........Blood
Prologue
The warrior known as Viktoras lay atop the highest mountain, the point of the village closest to the gods, as the sun scorched his bare skin. He waited, spread eagle, wrists and ankles bound to the stakes that had been driven into the dry, brittle earth by his comrades. Those he'd fought beside, bled beside, and swung his sword to defend. This brave soldier had been sentenced to the foulest punishment of their kind. Left to wither away, a slave to the elements, a feast for the vermin.
He thought about the years of his life, the thrill of the victories and the pain of the defeats, all only memories to take to his grave as he felt blisters form upon his searing flesh. He relived every moment of his trial; a farce set upon him by his enemies, led by the weak-minded commander of their sister clan, Bjorn. Such a big name for such a small man. The same coward who'd left his men to die while he ran in fear when faced with their most bloodthirsty adversary.
Bjorn had come to the trial prepared. The traitor had called upon his goddess, Eris – the ruler of chaos, strife and discord, who lent him the power to stand before their Council of Ancestors and provide false testimony against Viktoras. The turncoat assured a conviction against the mighty warrior with a glint in his eye and a snarl upon his lips. Viktoras' men shouted from the gallery, screaming at the injustice before them, telling and retelling the true story of the battle they'd just survived. Their Supreme Commander, however, stood stoic, unwilling to lower himself to be a party to the charade playing out before him.
The only defense Viktoras waged for himself was to the gods. Praying to the goddess of war and wisdom continually from the first day of his incarceration, begging for her guidance. Every unanswered plea was an arrow to his heart. He'd been left to suffer in silence...alone...a doomed man. Sure that his appeals for justice had fallen upon the deaf ears of the goddess Athena, the warrior began praying directly to Zeus. He asked the Father of the Gods to shine light and honesty on the travesty before him, while hour after hour he listened to tainted testimony planted by his enemies.
Finally, the time came for his generals to take the stand. Roman, his second-in-command and friend since childhood, spoke of Viktoras' bravery and valor. The general explained how Viktoras had led the charge against their enemies, never asking even the lowliest of their ranks to do anything he himself, had not already accomplished. Achilles, a brigadier general and named for his father, spoke of the many wounded their supreme commander and friend carried to the medics while continuing to fight the thundering hordes descending upon them from all sides. The last allowed to speak was Bain, the eldest of the Michaelidis family and a newly promoted general. He focused on the man beyond the battlefield, explaining in excruciating detail the special care Viktoras took of the women and children left without a man of the family due to their country's constant conflicts.
The commander watched the faces of each member of the council as his friends and comrades gave testimony. The corrupt lawgivers showed no emotion, gave no indication they were even listening, only looked over the crowd as if taking attendance. When they left to deliberate, Viktoras knew the outcome was a forgone conclusion. His fate had been decided the moment the cold steel shackles were clamped tightly upon his wrists and ankles. The trial was only a formality, a way for his enemies to justify his murder. They wanted to avoid an uprising from those who would remain loyal to the great Supreme Commander, Viktoras.
No matter his belief in the doom he faced, Viktoras still prayed to the almighty Zeus, knowing if a miracle was to be bestowed upon him, it would be by the King of the Gods. Long after the fateful verdict had been delivered, while the mighty warrior sat waiting for the executioner, a light shown from above and a voice unlike any Viktoras had ever heard reverberated off the stone walls of his cell.
"You have remained loyal, my child, even unto the end. A fate worse than most has befallen you and it is true that life as you know it will soon be forfeit, but this is not the end, great warrior. You are destined for far greater things.
"Your heart will cease to beat. Your lungs will cease to draw breath. You will be buried in a traitor's grave-but do not fret. Thirty days will come and go while your body rests and transforms. As the sun touches the horizon on the night of the thirty-first day, you shall rise. Your heart will again beat. Your lungs will again draw breath and you, my loyal servant, will be made immortal. You will be known as ‘The Unum', The One, the first King of the Blood. You will serve a higher purpose. You will smite the enemies that mortals cannot. You will live in resurrection as you lived in life, an unknown hero amongst the masses with a worth beyond all imagination.
"Those loyal to you in life may also be called into service. It is a choice you will have to make, for only you will have the power to make them immortal, to make them future Kings of the Blood. Together, you and yours will form a fraternity unlike any other, with the sole purpose of protecting those who cannot protect themselves.
"As with everything, there is a price and yours is twofold. Although you will live and thrive as you always have, you will also need to consume life's essence once every new moon. The darkest night of the month at the darkest time of the night is when you shall feed. It should be given willingly and accepted gratefully. Take only the small amount you need to replenish the powers bestowed upon you and leave your donor unblemished.
"Lastly, you will have a mate, your custos animae, the keeper of your heart. The one woman in all the world who can save your doomed soul and breathe life into your dead heart. She will be the perfect complement to your darkness, a light that shines so brightly there are no shadows for you to hide behind. She will know your every weakness, share your every secret, and accept you for all that you are. This gift of the gods will be your only nourishment from the moment of her recognition of you. You will know when this woman is born. You will feel it in the depths of your soul, but you must wait for her. When the time is right, she will come to you. The mating must be completed before nightfall of your three thousandth year or you will cease to exist. You will return to the ether from whence you came, ashes to ashes and dust to dust. You will enter the Elysian Fields and live a hero's afterlife.
"Our time is up, my supreme commander. The guards approach. Your day of death is nigh. Know that I am watching and waiting. Know that your purpose is true and just, blessed by not only the King of the Gods but by the entire Pantheon. Go forth, brave warrior, die so that you might live and fulfill your honor bound destiny."
In the blink of an eye, the light from above and the voice of Zeus disappeared as if they had never existed. The guards arrived as predicted and once again locked steel shackles on his wrists and ankles, but this time, he was taken to the top of the mountain and left to die.
Days passed. His strength waned. He knew the end was near but held out hope that what Zeus had promised would come to pass. Viktoras knew he was to serve a greater purpose. He would be true to his mission and do as the King of the Gods had commanded, while also hunting down those responsible for his premature death. Bjorn and the lawgivers would feel the cold, harsh steel of his blade upon their necks. He would watch the life fade from their eyes. Their blood would pay the debt.