Reign to Ravage

by Zoey Ellis

  Contents

  Copyright

  Reign To Ravage

  Western Lands Map

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Reign To Rule

  Author Note

  Acknowledgements

  About Zoey Ellis

  Copyright © 2018 by Zoey Ellis

  All rights reserved. Sale of any edition of this book is wholly unauthorized. Except for use in review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part, by any means, is forbidden without written permission from the author/publisher.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  First Edition: September 2018

  Reign To Ravage

  His savage need for his Omega drives Malloron to take steps that threaten his throne.

  Knowing his future is tied to her in more ways than one, he is prepared to destroy every obstacle between them to repair what he has done and get her back under his control, whether she accepts it or not.

  Destroyed by King Malloron, Amara makes discoveries that could give her the chance to escape her existence.

  However, when the king makes her another offer, she finds herself at risk of devastation, in the most brutal, carnal, and deepest of ways.

  REIGN TO RAVAGE is a full-length fantasy romance novel that continues Malloron and Amara’s dark and magical epic tale. Begin their story from REIGN TO RUIN. For fans of faithful Alpha anti-heroes and captive romances.

  Reign to Ravage includes romance and situations of a dark nature. Some aspects of this story may be sensitive for some readers. For aged 18 and over.

  See the color version

  CHAPTER ONE

  MALLORON

  King Malloron’s rage knew no bounds.

  He stormed to his temple, his mind empty of all thought except one; he ruined his mate. Amara’s beautiful, stunning eyes that he loved to see harden on him with anger, the gorgeous blue that had captivated him so deeply at first sight, were gone. And in their place, a blank, white nothingness. It did not change her obvious beauty, but it left her with no character, no expression, no fire.

  He did not doubt that she was also deaf. She didn't respond to his voice or sound of any kind. She simply lay on his bed, still and limp, completely unresponsive to anything he did. That passionate, smart-witted woman who was to be his queen disappeared, turned into a shadow of her former self. It was not supposed to have happened!

  He yanked open the door to his temple and headed straight for the spell book. Flipping to the page made of different parchment, he examined it again. He had followed every instruction; he had waited for the dark moon; he had woven the spell correctly; he had selected the appropriate woman. Nothing suggested why it went so wrong.

  He threw the book down and roared as his anger overwhelmed him. Throwing out his hands, he executed sharp gestures that swept all the beakers and potions from their shelves. As his rage blossomed into true savagery, he tore the books from their shelves, toppled the cabinets until they smashed down to the floor, threw orbs that punched into the walls making the whole room shudder. He did not stop until the entire room was destroyed, leaving only the altar, which was protected by the Ancient Tongue inscriptions.

  He breathed heavily, finally still in the center of the carnage he created. Ripped books, jagged glass, and spilled potions surrounded him, but he didn't see any of it. Nothing in that room would help him fix what happened to Amara—what he had done to her. There was no spell, no potion, no procedure that would return her to what she was. He knew because he had already tried to fix the last woman he’d done it to, his last queen, who had been a Beta.

  She also became deaf and blind as soon as the tenebris entered her, but he had expected the side effects because she hadn't been an Omega. He’d been willing to accept any risk and so had she—for the right price. Once she held the tenebris, he was able to draw it into him regularly, reinforce his body, and maintain his Talent without any pain and most importantly, without the immobility. Unfortunately, the tenebris had burned the Beta woman from the inside out. She couldn't hold it for long; it had been too powerful for her.

  Although she died as his queen, he could never refer to her as that again. Never before had he had any kind of experience like what he just experienced mating Amara in her Haze. It sent him far beyond anything he could have imagined. It went beyond fucking, beyond words or games, beyond power struggles and agreements. She belonged to him in every way. In that moment when they were locked together so intimately, when she lay her head on his chest, he wanted to wrap himself around her and never let her go. He caught himself wondering whether she was with child yet and when he would be able to knot her again to ensure it. She was his true queen, the one that was supposed to be at his side. And now she would likely suffer the same fate as the Beta woman.

  The energy in the room began to shift, and the inscriptions on the two wooden beams of the altar glowed a bright gold.

  Malloron turned to watch it, holding out his hand again and creating multiple shimmery magical orbs to prepare for what was happening—he had never seen this before, but whatever it was, he was prepared for it.

  Streams of brilliant bright magic gathered in the center, revolving and pulsing until it stretched into a portal. His brother stepped through.

  Elion froze as the portal closed behind him; his face dropped in shock as he looked around the room.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” Malloron growled.

  “Did you do this?” Elion slowly stepped out of the altar, his expression deepening to disbelief and horror. “What have you done, Malloron?”

  “Why are you here?”

  Elion stilled. He turned to face Malloron, eyeing the orbs hovering around his hands. “Have you finally gone mad?” Anger crept into his tone. “You better hope that most of this can be salvaged.”

  His anger renewed, Malloron growled as he shot the orbs directly at his brother. Elion moved quickly to protect himself, curving and jutting his arms to pull together a shield of magic. But he wasn't quick enough. The orbs hit his shield, destroying it, and the remaining momentum knocked him backward.

  He yelled as he fell heavily onto the debris behind him.

  Malloron advanced, creating new orbs as he approached. "I dislike having to repeat myself, Elion," he snarled.

  Elion looked up at him, his jaw hard, but resignation in his eyes. "There is a protection spell on the temple," he muttered reluctantly. "If the temple, or any of its contents, come under threat, then the altar summons the next appropriate family member with Visant blood and sufficient skill in the Talent to protect it."

  Malloron sneered down at him. "And you were summoned?"

  "I am not as weak as you think," Elion snapped. "Whatever secret you have been keeping to maintain your strength, it is not your real power. It has falsified your Talent to keep you strong. But you are not that much stronger than I am."

  "You have no idea what it takes to be strong," Malloron shot back. "Admit that and accept it, and stop getting in my way."

  Elion slowly got up. "I would love to never have to see you again," he said, his face dark. "But my responsibility is to the Visant family. You are destroying centuries of work and research. Yo
u do not have the right to take such action."

  "I have the right to do whatever the fuck I want," Malloron bellowed. "I am king."

  "And yet I am here," Elion shouted back. "Summoned by such an important spell and you didn't even remember it."

  Malloron breathed heavily. Had he been aware of that spell? He thought back to when his father was alive. The first time he’d been shown the temple was with all of his siblings. He’d been young, certainly under ten years old. Their father had let them look at everything in the room, before explaining the importance of the history that the room held and the need to ensure it was protected. He vaguely remembered something along the lines of what Elion mentioned, but it was so long ago. The most prominent memory he had of being in the temple was the day his father told him he was the heir and would take the throne.

  Malloron glanced down at the spell woven into the rug on the floor that was in place to protect the room from intruders. It wasn’t active. The room was no longer protecting itself. He dispersed the orbs and lowered his hands. The inscriptions on the altar were extremely powerful to have transported Elion from Khayola straight into the castle and disabled the ancient spell to hide the temple. If he forgot that was possible, what else had he forgotten? He glanced around the room. The parchment. The parchment the procedure had been written on was older than the book it had been sewn into.

  "Whatever your reasons are for doing this," Elion said, his voice low, "I hope they are worth your throne."

  “And how do you hope to overthrow me?" Malloron snapped. "Whatever you think you are doing here, you will never take the throne."

  "I do not want the throne,” Elion said hotly. “I already told you that no other member of the family will be able to rule Eiros and keep the royal name in existence. But you have now destroyed any chance and hope of being able to combat whatever the other rulers are planning. This is the worst time that you could have decided to destroy your most valuable resource."

  Hard pounding on the temple door interrupted Malloron’s answer.

  When he opened it, Emric leaned against the door frame bent over panting and panicked. "Your Majesty, I’ve just seen your… guest floating over the city," he blurted out. "She is floating!"

  Malloron stomach dropped. "What the hell do you mean? She’s in my bedroom."

  "No, Your Majesty," Banon said as he caught up to Emric. "We were heading to the port as you requested, and we saw her in the air. I don't know how she is using magic in Eiros, but she is. Emric insisted on coming back to tell you.”

  Malloron pushed past them and ran down the corridor. It couldn't be true. How could she have left his bedroom? She couldn't see! Had there been some kind of side-effect that he was not aware of that allowed her to use magic? Her beacon, the pulse in his palm, had stopped the moment the tenebris entered her so he could no longer tell where she was, and he didn’t think he would need to. A dread coiled in his stomach the closer he got to his bedroom.

  He burst through his bedroom door and saw the confirmation for himself. His bed was empty, and the windows were wide open, but he hadn't left them open. He scrutinized the room carefully. How could she have walked from the bed to the window? And why would she? Was she trying to kill herself? He couldn't let that happen. Regardless of her condition, there was no way he was going to let her consider that as an option. She was still his. And even if she was never able to see or hear again, she was his mate and would remain his until they both took their last breaths. She didn't know it yet, but she would. He would find a way for her to understand.

  Emric and Banon arrived at the room and stood in the doorway. "What would you like me to do, Your Majesty?" Emric asked, still out of breath.

  Malloron went to the window. To one side were the royal gardens and the other led to the castle city. "Where was she?" he asked turning to face them both.

  "She was over the castle city, heading toward Norryth." Emric froze, suddenly alarmed. "She was heading to Norryth, Your Majesty. Toward the breach."

  Malloron’s face contorted in anger. She was heading toward Brecc and his foolish attempts to create a power source to best Malloron. And Malloron no longer even had the tenebris. Without her, he would suffer the effects of not being able to feed from it, and without it he’d be unable to get his Omega back.

  Focusing his mind, he drew on magic to surround him. "Get to the port and focus on our visitor from the Southern Lands," he said to Emric. "Bring him back to the castle and do not let him leave."

  With that, he jumped out of the window after Amara.

  CHAPTER TWO

  AMARA

  The vibrations around Amara made up a new world. As she drifted, they pulsed and danced and flittered and trembled, existing both within her and around her. They held different qualities that were beautiful and somewhat fascinating.

  Amara willed herself to slow and the air around her stilled. She tilted herself one way, and then the other, experimenting with the feel of the vibrations. Recognizing the pull of the earth, she determined which way was upright, and righted herself. Sending her awareness out around her, she noticed that the air was silky and smooth with minimal vibrations, while busier and rougher vibrations stretched into the distance below her. She examined them closer, and the more she held her attention on them the more defined they became until the intricate complexity of them stunned her. It was too confusing to pinpoint every vibration that existed; they each vied for her attention, and she pulled back, suddenly afraid of how energetic and alive they felt. What were they? How could vibrations fill her whole existence? The only thing she knew of that penetrated every single thing was magic… Was she feeling magic?

  Taking a breath, she focused her mind like how she was taught to when about to engage magic by will, and then sent her awareness out again. The vibrations were indeed magical and they turned toward her, aware and alert as though waiting for her to take action. In her mind’s eye, they unfolded to create a picture of her surroundings, and suddenly she could see. It wasn't the same as using her eyes, but she could recognize the shape and landscape of Eiros city in the form of buzzing, shifting, trembling vibrations. She observed the scene in her mind’s eye in wonder.

  She hovered high above one of the markets, a little distance away from the castle, and it all looked incredible in the form of magic. The vibrations of the people and objects moved, dancing along each action, making it just as interesting as any performance from the royal theater company. It was vibrantly colorful, each color harmonizing and contrasting with the others to create a canvas of unequal beauty.

  As she watched, she noticed a thick blanket of multi-blue magic smothered the whole area. Although its vibration was powerful, it trembled, twisting slightly as though something was pulling it on one side. She sought out the source of the disturbance and discovered that the mass of vibration that had initially caught her attention was eating into the blanket of magic and causing it to tremble and quake and lose potency.

  What was this mass of magic? She didn't recall any such magical power existing in the Western Lands. Curious, she headed toward it.

  The mass of magic vibrated so strongly the closer she came; its tremble reached deep within her. She sighed with a relief, her heart lifting, glad she could feel something beyond the numb, white despair. She studied it, trying to figure out what it was. An unnatural combination of energies that did not belong together, twisted and revolved as they tried to escape their forced consolidation. As she focused her attention, it became aware of her and she was suddenly unsure again. She stilled, wondering if it was truly alive. The Mothers had always said that magic was a living energy source that permeated everything, but she never considered it being sentient. Deep within this mass of magic, its separate energies contorted violently trying to free itself, desperate to escape its capture but unable to. Such energies could only ever be volatile—why would anyone force them together? Without thinking, she reached out for it using her will—just as she would to weave magic—and connected w
ith it.

  A rush of power shot through her body in an exhilarating thrill, and she felt every part of it as it flooded through her. Testing out the mass, she identified the various energies and the spell that conjoined them and began to unravel them.

  The mass unfolded, becoming wilder and larger as it unraveled, filtering into separate energies. But just as Amara reached the point at which it would disperse, it was suddenly yanked back into formation and a blast of magic slammed into her body from the ground. She lurched back, but before she could react, another blast hit her. And then another and another. The blasts shuddered through her body with such force they knocked the wind out of her, sending a shock through her as she propelled backward in the air. She embraced the feeling, glad to finally experience something sharp and biting. She hadn't realized she had been feeling so numb. Searching below for the origin of the attack, the scene materialized—a group of men surrounding the magical mass were firing hard blasts of magic at her.

  As more blasts hit her, she angled toward the vibrations, wondering if it would be possible for them to kill her. Her team had made it safely to Madis and would be heading further west to regroup. There was no need for her to continue existing like this, regardless of how beautiful the vibrations were. She couldn't help her sisters or the children in this state. The Mothers seemed to have been prepared to give up on the children, which was a shock that had been eclipsed by the news that her team had been captured. She could not believe the Mothers truly felt the children should be abandoned. Surely, they were planning something else; they had to be. But that wasn't her problem anymore. Amara was useless now. Tears sprung to her eyes as she realized how deeply true that was; after two years of so much planning and preparation, she had failed spectacularly.