A Crown Without Mercy

A Crown Without Mercy Crowns of Darkness | Book One J.L. Weir Scarlet Lantern Publishing Copyright Copyright © 2022 by J.L. Weir & Scarlet Lantern Publishing 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. This book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language. Contents Trigger Warnings 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 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Glossary of terms Family Lineage Also By J.L. Weir About the Author Trigger Warnings A Crown Without Mercy contains content which may trigger some readers. If you are bothered by torture, kidnapping, self harm, or mentions of rape, please consider carefully before reading this book. Chapter 1 It was ominously silent as Sylvana walked through the unfamiliarity of the forest, and it appeared as if all the wildlife had long ago disappeared. She knew she was being followed and froze when the snapping of a twig off in the distance startled her; her canines slid from her gums, she turned in the noise’s direction, and squinted her eyes, trying to see who, or what, had been following her. After taking a few cautious steps back, she sprinted deeper into the woods. A rush of wind blew over her body and her legs flew out from beneath her when something crossed her throat; the air exploded from her lungs when she landed on her back. She fought back against her attacker, but whomever, whatever it was, lifted her off the ground and slammed her face down. She heard numerous males speaking however, their words were unintelligible, and she could not see through the strange material covering her head as they pinned her down and bound her wrists and ankles. “Why are you doing this?” she bellowed. The heavy weight of their bodies disappeared, and she lay there doing her best to hear anything that would indicate who had taken her, or why they had taken her. They picked her up and placed her face down on what she assumed was a wood floor, based solely on the smell of the aged wood. Although they removed the binds from her wrists and ankles, she could not move. There was an ethereal energy pinning her down. They pulled the bag from her head and as she looked out of her peripheral vision; a large piece of wood obscured the attackers and the energy holding her down dissipated. She hastily rolled over, only to realize she was being sealed in a wooden box. Sylvana pounded her fists on the smooth planks which did nothing more than cause trickles of dirt to cascade down on her face, causing her to choke on the dust and debris. Her sight was blurry and her eyes were watering having been coated in a layer of dirt. It wasn’t long before the sounds of the dirt thumping against the top of the coffin became muffled and the last trickle of light shining between the planks from the lanterns above disappeared. When the claustrophobic confines of the small structure consumed her, her breathing became labored, and she was panic-stricken. “Why are you doing this?” she screamed. She continued pounding her fists against the planks over and over which did nothing more than drain what little energy she had left. She closed her eyes to let them heal, and held her breath to calm the erratic hammering of her heart. After a moment, she opened her eye and used her keen sense of sight, seeking any means of escape. She slid her fingers over the planks, took a deep breath, and waved her hand across the lid. A yellowish-orange glow grew in intensity, and symbols and writing in a language she did not know morphed and twisted above her body. “Powers of the Faye,” she said aloud. The tears spilled from her eyes. “No one is coming. No one is going to save me.” “Sylvana, wake up,” Calista said. After a moment, she gently shook her shoulder. “Sylvana, wake up.” Sylvana gasped for a breath and sat up in a cold sweat. “Calista?” “Yes. I heard you scream. Are you okay?” She tossed the covers to the side, and draped her legs over the edge of the bed. “I had had a terrible dream, is all.” Kadric sat at the table with his head resting on his cupped fists, dreading having to leave his family. He heard the scrape of the door and turned to see Alaric appear. “Sit. Have a drink with me, son.” Alaric picked up a wood pitcher, filled a cup, and took a seat across the table. “What’s on your mind, Father? You look troubled.” “I’m tired is all. What did you find out?” Alaric reached into his pocket, pulled out a piece of cloth, and tossed it on the table. “It’s as you suspected. There are Lycans in the area.” Kadric picked up the cloth, rubbed it between his fingers, and smelled it. “Fuck.” He mumbled under his breath. “How bad is it?” Alaric asked. Kadric tossed the piece of cloth into the slowly, burning embers within the hearth. “There’s much you are unaware of. If the Lycans are crossing our lands, the Acherons will soon follow.” “Why is it a problem? We’re members of the Legion, you’re a warrior for the Cynfadel clan, and the Acherons’ respect them. They shouldn’t have reason to suspect we have anything to do with it.” “You know them as well as I do. I won’t allow my daughters to become their whores.” “Father, I know your animosity for their clan runs deep, but you worry too much.” “And you