The Reign of Darkness

by Britney Jackson

  THE REIGN OF

  DARKNESS

  CREATURES OF DARKNESS: BOOK FOUR

  BY BRITNEY JACKSON

  THE REIGN OF DARKNESS

  Copyright © 2019 by Britney Jackson

  All rights reserved.

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  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.

  Published by Noctem Publishing

  First Edition, May 2019

  www.britneyjackson.com

  THE REIGN OF DARKNESS

  by Britney Jackson

  SUMMARY

  As war breaks out between vampires and humans, the world’s most powerful vampire, Rose Foster, and her girlfriend, Kara Unnarsdóttir, take refuge in a hidden kingdom of vampires to save the life of a friend. There, Rose finds that, despite having never heard of this kingdom before, everyone there seems to know her. Not only that, but they’re prepared to follow her into battle. Yet, they refuse to tell her why.

  A supernatural world war rages on in their absence, threatening the extinction of both species. Rose soon realizes that, even though she doesn’t want the power, if she wants to prevent genocide, she’ll have to take her place as a Commander of Power.

  But when Kara uncovers a terrifying piece of information about Rose, she must decide, once and for all, if her loyalty to the woman she loves is strong enough to withstand even the end of the world. Or if it’s time to do what she does best: betrayal.

  In this final installment of the Creatures of Darkness series, the Eklektos will either save the world or destroy it.

  CREATURES OF DARKNESS

  Series

  Book One: The Stone of the Eklektos

  Book Two: The Tomb of Blood

  Book Three: The Assassins of Light

  Book Four: The Reign of Darkness

  Find out more at:

  britneyjackson.com

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Flirting with Death

  The Princess of Skotalia

  The Future

  A Strange Symbol

  Games

  The Kingdom of Skotalia

  Need

  Bad Omens

  A Bloody Wedding

  The Attack

  The Queen of Skotalia

  The First Vampires

  The Truth

  Once a Liar

  The Black Rose

  Bad News

  The Last Night

  The Commander

  The Alliance

  A Lust for Power

  Loyal to No One

  Messy Reunion

  Beginning of the End

  The Dragon and the Wolf

  The Reign of Darkness

  Defying Fate

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  About The Author

  DEDICATION

  This book is dedicated to you, my readers.

  Writing this series has changed my life—and fulfilled me in ways I never thought possible. These books will always hold such an important place in my life, and I’m so, so grateful you’ve chosen to give them a place in yours, too. Thank you for joining me on this journey. Saving my tears for the author’s note, but just know: I’m eternally grateful for all of you.

  “The world breaks everyone, and afterward, some are strong at the broken places.”

  —Ernest Hemingway

  1

  Flirting with Death

  608 A.D. in Northern Europe…

  Shivering and feverish, Kara clutched the ragged, wool blanket closer and rolled onto her uninjured side—gasping, as she suddenly made eye-contact with a pair of shadowy, black eyes. It was a woman—or something that resembled the shape of a woman—in the corner of her tent. But this woman-shaped creature had long, shadowy hair that swirled like ink in water, and dark, shadow-filled eyes.

  The creature lifted her finger to her lips, motioning for Kara to stay quiet.

  Kara noticed a ruckus outside, as someone with heavy, clumsy footsteps trudged across the frozen field, toward her tent. With no small amount of effort, Kara rolled back toward the entrance of the tent, watching, as her father entered.

  Unnar had to kneel, as he squeezed into the small tent. The howling, icy wind beat against the sides of the tent, nearly collapsing it on top of them. He sat down on a small crate that they’d placed beside the bedding. He leaned forward, resting his elbow on his thigh, raking his fingers through his long, blonde hair. “I hope you enjoyed your first battle,” he sighed, as he watched his daughter shiver under the blankets. His light blue eyes narrowed. “Because it was also your last.”

  “Well, fuck, Dad,” Kara scoffed. “Don’t soften the blow or anything.”

  “Your wound isn’t getting better,” Unnar told her. “You know it isn’t.”

  Kara winced, clearly in pain, and still, she didn’t whine or complain—not while her father watched, anyway. She had too much pride for that. “Yeah,” she sighed, glancing toward the other corner of the tent. “It’s gotten pretty nasty.”

  Unnar scratched at his beard, shaking his head in frustration. “I told you to stay home. I told you that you weren’t ready, that you might not ever be ready. Why couldn’t you have listened? Just this once.” He straightened, and the anger that she’d seen in his face seemed to disappear, hidden behind a cold, impassive façade. “I have to look out for my men. We should’ve left long ago. If winter hits before we get home, the journey will be nearly impossible. We only stayed this long because you were ill. But you’ll die soon, and I can’t wait around any longer.”

  “I get it,” Kara mumbled, not looking at him. “I’m a lost cause, anyway.”

  Unnar stood—or tried to, anyway. He was too tall to stand straight. He nodded. “We’re leaving tomorrow, but I won’t leave you to die alone.” His voice cracked a little, which surprised Kara. “If you don’t pass before morning, I’ll have someone put you out of your misery. We’ll give you an honorable, Norse funeral.”

  Kara continued to stare in the opposite direction, watching that strange, shadowy creature on the other side of the tent. But when her father followed her gaze, he saw no one. “You’d let someone kill your daughter?” Kara said curiously.

  He shrugged his broad shoulders, his chainmail armor clanging a little as he did. “Trust me. It’s a better death,” he said gruffly. “It’s quicker and dignified.”

  “Dignified,” Kara scoffed, as if she found that funny. She glanced at him, for the first time since he’d first started talking. “Don’t let Ingi do it. He’s an ass.”

  “Your mother would be disappointed,” he said, “if she were still alive.”

  “Good,” Kara said with a weak laugh. “I do love disappointing people.”

  Still pretty bitter that she’d disobeyed him—and, secretly, upset that he’d lose her, too—Unnar turned and stormed out of the tent, leaving Kara by herself.

  Or so he’d thought.

  Kara clenched her jaw, trying to stop herself from shivering, as her light blue eyes shifted back toward the other corner of the tent. “He acts like it’s easy—to have someone kill me,” she told the dark figure, “but it’d hurt him quite a bit.” She winced in pain. “So, it’s a good thing I’ll be dead before morning, anyway.”

  The woman’s dark, shadow-filled eyes shifted toward Kara, studying her curiously. “Why do you think that?” she asked, her voice soft and dark, like v
elvet.

  “He couldn’t see you,” Kara replied. “I could tell by the way he acted, by the way he gazed blankly in your direction. If he couldn’t see you, you’re not real.”

  “Is there no other possibility?” the dark creature asked Kara. “If he can’t see me, does that mean that I must not be real? That I must be a hallucination?”

  “It’s the only possibility I know,” Kara told her. “I’ve seen it before. I’ve seen other warriors die of fever. When their wounds fester, as mine has, they die.” She sighed, “And it’s always on the night they die, when they start to hallucinate.”

  The black-eyed woman stepped closer to the bedding, the frost-covered ground crackling beneath her feet. Her hair moved in ethereal swirls, like elegant wisps of smoke. The shadows within her eyes seemed to move, too, in this slow, sensual dance. “Perhaps, they weren’t hallucinating,” she suggested. She knelt next to Kara’s bed, her inky hair falling forward, over her black robes. Lowering her voice to a whisper, she said, “Perhaps, you have to be close to Death to see her.”

  “Death,” Kara repeated. She licked her lips—suddenly aware of how dry and cracked they were, suddenly wishing that she looked better than she did now.

  “Some call me that,” the woman said, “but I have other names, as well.”

  Kara trailed her gaze down the woman’s body, noticing the soft, sensual curve of her hips and breasts, which were covered by thin, black robes. “Are you a Valkyrie?” she asked breathlessly. “I’d always imagined they’d be beautiful. Like you. Why else would men fear them so? Power is scary. But power and beauty?”

  Though she tried not to smile, the woman’s lips still curved a little at the corners. “You think I’m beautiful?” she asked softly. To Kara’s pleasant surprise, the woman lay down on the empty side of the bedding, resting on her back, beside Kara. This close, Kara could see the softness of the woman’s skin. She could see its creamy, pale color, which contrasted starkly with her shadowy hair and eyes.

  And those eyes—so dark and strange—sent a shockwave of fear through Kara’s body, cooling her blood, quickening her pulse, filling her with adrenaline.

  “Because,” the creature said lowly, “most people find me terrifying.”

  “Yes,” Kara whispered, her heart racing, “but you’re also beautiful.”

  The woman turned to lie on her side, face-to-face with Kara. The edges of her lips curved, and the sight of that smile—as gentle and sensual as black rose petals—eased the fear in Kara’s chest. “What if I told you,” she whispered, “that I’m not a Valkyrie? What if I told you that I’m older? And much more powerful?”

  Kara’s eyebrows lifted. “Are you one of the goddesses? Hel, perhaps?”

  “Closer,” the woman told her, “but I’m far older than the Norse gods.”

  “You are a goddess, then,” Kara realized. “Is that what you’re saying?”

  The woman shrugged one shoulder. “If that’s the word you want to use.”

  “And,” Kara said, blinking slowly, “I’m not hallucinating right now?”

  “Your fever is severe,” the woman said, “but what you see, now, is real.”

  Slowly, Kara pulled her hand from beneath the wool blanket, her fingers trembling as she did, and with a curious frown, she touched the woman’s hair. It didn’t feel much like hair. It felt cool and smooth, like velvet—but more like fog than solid strands of hair. The shadows swirled around her fingertips, clinging to them like an affectionate cat, circling its human’s legs. Kara breathed out slowly, stunned and amazed by the sensation. “Are you…certain I’m not hallucinating?”

  “You shouldn’t touch it,” the woman said. “The shadows are dangerous. They’re capable of destroying everything they touch.” She paused. “If I desire it.”

  Kara’s icy blue gaze shifted up, meeting the woman’s shadow-filled eyes. “I’m dying, anyway, aren’t I?” she said, wincing, as her side ached and throbbed.

  “Yes,” the woman said. Kara noticed something in the woman’s eyes, in the sensual sway of shadows, that looked a little like sadness. But she didn’t know why a goddess would ever be sad. “How much does it hurt?” the goddess sighed.

  Kara wanted to lie—the way she would’ve lied to her father—but lying about something so obvious seemed pointless. She could see, as she stared at her fingers, that her skin had turned sickly gray, and she could feel, beneath her head, that her long, blonde hair was drenched in cold sweat. “It’s difficult to…ignore.”

  “It’s all right to admit it hurts,” the goddess whispered, her brows creased with sympathy. She held out her hand. “Don’t hide your pain from me, warrior.”

  Kara frowned curiously at her hand, another astonished breath spilling from her lips, as she noticed the shadows that swirled around the creature’s hand, as well. She remembered what the creature had said, just moments before—that those shadows could destroy her—but the longing that flared up inside of Kara, in that moment, the desire to touch this woman, was so intense that she couldn’t resist. She placed her hand in the creature’s hand, watching as the shadows swirled around their joined hands. It felt as if something were being pulled out of Kara, drawn upward by a string, and then, suddenly, her entire body sagged with relief.

  The woman traced Kara’s fingers with her own. “Better?” she whispered.

  Better? Kara couldn’t help but laugh. It came out as a weak, raspy sound, and she knew that meant she was probably still very ill. But she’d been in pain for weeks, and now, she felt so relieved. So weightless. She raised up in her bed, the blankets pooling around her waist, leaving her bandaged torso visible to the woman. She glanced down at her wound, at the bandages that covered it. She thought they’d been white once, but now, they looked dark brown. Almost black.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t heal you,” the woman said. “I only took your pain.”

  “Only?” Kara muttered, her eyes wide. “That’s pretty extraordinary.”

  “Not really,” the woman said, not looking at her. “Pain belongs to me.”

  Kara glanced at the woman, her matted, dirty-blonde hair falling forward, over her bare shoulders. Her hair was still cold and wet with sweat, and it was so cold in the tent that she felt as if she might freeze to death, if she didn’t get back underneath the wool blankets. But she remained still, staring down at the creature in her bed. “When you take someone’s pain,” she whispered, “do you…feel it?”

  “Always,” the creature said. Her shadow-filled eyes shifted toward Kara, and the pain that she felt caused those shadows to dance faster. “I always feel it.”

  Kara swallowed uneasily, as a strange feeling opened up inside her chest. She lay back, once again, turning to face the dark creature. “Then, why take it?”

  “It’s what I am,” the woman told her. “I am Death. I am Pain. I am…”

  “You’re what?” Kara whispered, moving closer. “What is your name?”

  For a few moments, the woman just stared at Kara, studying the flash of delight in Kara’s light blue eyes, the hint of a smile on her lips. “I should leave.”

  “Not without me,” Kara reminded her. “You came for me, remember?”

  The woman scooted closer, invading Kara’s space, sliding under the wool blankets with her—even though Kara knew the bed must’ve been soaked with blood. The woman lifted her hands, tracing Kara’s feverish face with her fingers.

  A quick, shaky breath fell from Kara’s lips. It wasn’t the first time Kara had been close to a woman. Not in the least. But it was the first time she’d ever felt like this—so affected, so vulnerable. She still wasn’t sure what this creature was—if she was a ghost, a hallucination, or if…perhaps, she really was a goddess.

  But regardless of what she was, Kara knew that she wanted to kiss her.

  She longed for it. She longed to know if the woman’s mouth was as cold as her breath, if her lips were as soft as her shadowy hair, if her tongue was as gentle as her voice. Kara longed to know
how it would feel to kiss something so terrifying and so beautiful. She leaned in, tilting her face, their lips nearly touching.

  “Most warriors would fight for their lives,” the woman whispered against Kara’s lips. “But not you. You’ll flirt with Death. Share a kiss with her, even…”

  Kara’s eyes fluttered closed. “Yes,” she breathed. “A kiss. Yes.” She lifted her hands, grasping the creature’s face, touching the silky, cool skin of her cheeks. Then, she tilted her face and claimed the shadowy creature’s lips with her own.

  The woman’s lips felt cold against Kara’s—so cold that Kara shivered at the sensation. And when the woman’s tongue met Kara’s, it was the gentlest thing Kara had ever felt—and the sweetest thing she’d ever tasted. Kara pressed herself closer to the creature, even as the shadows swirled around her skin. She moaned, as the woman’s soft body pressed against her own. She knew there was nothing soft about her own body, at the moment. She hadn’t eaten well in weeks. But the creature didn’t seem to mind. As a matter of fact, she seemed to be enjoying the feel of Kara’s body, as much as Kara enjoyed hers—if those soft moans that she breathed out against Kara’s lips were any indication. Kara gasped, a needful ache traveling through her, finding its destination between her legs, as the woman bit Kara’s lip. The woman pulled away, shadows dancing violently within her eyes.

  Kara just smiled, which seemed to surprise the creature. Clearly, she had expected Kara to be afraid of her, but Kara felt no fear whatsoever, as she leaned in, once again, aching for yet another kiss. The woman’s lips brushed against hers.

  The woman pulled away. “I must go,” she sighed, “before she notices.”