Page 1 of Forged in Dusk
Prologue
Konstantin
Kozlov Royal Vampires, The Magic Hour.
Fifteen years ago.
It’s a bloody crisis.
The rogue Vampire managed to destroy the peace and security in the Kozlov Royal Palace. The bastard killed my uncle and kidnapped my cousin, Princess Anastasia.
It’s bloody unbelievable.
I look around the royal chamber at my Sire and brothers' somber faces. I grind my molars, fisting my hands to control my anger. I look at my Sire, the Tsar’s distraught violet-blue eyes, as he turns to look out the balcony, staring at the horizon, pressing his lips.
The air sweeps through the open French doors, swirling around the Tsar, the Princes, my brothers, and me.
I notice his face is strained, trying to conceal his pain. My Sire was close to his brother Prince Ugo, and I know that he’s distraught. I’ve never seen my Sire struggle to control his emotions, therefore, it turns my gut inside out seeing his pain.
The atrocious act has devasted the entire royal family, highlighting our vulnerability.
I still can’t believe that a bloody rogue Vampire was able to enter the palace, cause malevolent catastrophic deeds. It’s bloody shattered the sense of security the impenetrable have from such evil deeds.
I’m going to go after this fucking rogue Vampire and rescue my cousin, Princess Anastasia. The motherfucker is trying to force our hand by taking Princess Anastasia.
“My sons, Princes, tis is time. The Golden Hour is opening, the magical hour for the portal is now open. You must enter the dimensions,” Tsar Kozlov murmurs, lowering his eyelids, staring out the open French doors at the colorful display, the different shades of blue, pink, and orange.
A minute later, the sky is now dark navy, Tsar inhales, his nostrils flare as he exhales.
Tsar Kozlov adjusts his black, long wool coat, his signet ruby ring glows as he moves. The Tsar is dressed impeccably, with grey wool slacks, white button-up shirt.
My Sire, the Tsar, looks young; only the silver in his hair attests his age of two centuries. Of course, that’s because the Vampires live forever unless we’re killed, as the Prince, Uncle Ugo killed. The fucker rogue Vampire Ivan beheaded my uncle, a vicious act.
Our realm exists parallel with the Earth, it’s an independent realm of life, and we also live among the humans on Earth.
I look at the sky, it proceeds into the Blue Hour that lasts about thirty minutes, the Twilight Golden Hour moves into the night.
The Golden Hour is the most important time; tis is the magical hour to enter other dimensions.
My Sire, Rudolph Kozlov, the Tsar of the Vampire Realm stands tall, curling his fingers to crush the parchment in his fist. His silver, long black hair shimmers as the moon rays stroke him as he stands outside the balcony.
“My sons, the rogue Vampire has been seen on Earth, in the City Of Sin, Las Vegas. The Black Knight Enzo is in pursuit and will continue until your return. Tis time, my Princes,” Tsar Rudolph growls, throwing the parchment onto the shiny ivory marbled floor.
The Tsar swings his hand, hurling a lightning bolt into the sky, illuminating the palace. the palace. The anger overtakes him, a dark shade of red spreads over his face. He presses hard on his molars, glaring at the sky, raises both hands, pointing his index fingers, throwing additional lightning bolts causing the bolts to light up the sky.
“Sire, we’re ready,” I say, standing tall, my back straight in the regal stance, grasping my hands behind my back.
Prince Vladimir, my eldest brother, the heir to the throne, and my younger brother Prince Dionisie and I stood before the Tsar, waiting for his dismissal.
Prince Vladimir is serious and works fucking hard in managing the empire on Earth. Of fuckingcourse Prince Dionisie, is a fucking pain. He’s young and is fucking taking his sweet time to grow the fuck up. It’s not that Dionisie is that young in comparison to the Humans but for the Vampires, he’s young, a few hundred years old. Dionisie is fucking around, he’s playing in the MC playground until he gets fucking bored. It’s so damn risky but his plan is to enjoy life before he becomes like Vladimir and me, cynical and bored so he claims, what fuckingever.
We’re not cynical, bored maybe, but you would be too if you’ve seen and done everything.
Dionisie is a fucking immature brat, but hey, he has all the time in the world to grow the fuck up.
I’m the middle son; yes, you can say that I have the middle child complex, or let’s say that I enjoy milking it. I’m good, happy, and have everything I want or need. I’m in the London branch for the time being, until I get fed up, then I’m gone.
“Sire, we will locate Princess Anastacia,” Prince Vladimir says, shifting his feet, standing tall, nodding.
