The Death King

I was fifteen when the Death King came for us.

With a mighty black dragon and the ability to command the dead, he raised an army of our fallen soldiers to fight for him—and conquered us in the night. My father, King Laurier of Scorpion Valley, couldn’t stop him. I tried to flee but came face to face with the man in black armor, the man who looked more like a god than a human. Instead of killing me, he chose to show me mercy… but it didn’t feel like mercy.

Not when the next ten years of my life are spent as a slave in the Arid Sands, digging for Black Diamonds from sunrise to sunset. I'm also the personal slave of General Titan—a man who has grown obsessed with me. The work under the hot sun is unbearable—but I prefer it to his company any day. I’ve never tried to escape because there’s nowhere to run in the desert, but all of that changes when I hear the news—that the Death King is coming.

I sneak out in the middle of the night to steal his dragon, but that backfires in my face—because you can’t steal a dragon. Khazmuda is no mindless beast. He can speak directly into my mind and hear my thoughts in return. The Death King is about to kill me, but Khazmuda changes his mind—because I have the gift.

The ability to speak with dragons.

The Death King spares my life once again and takes me back to his castle. He has no idea who I am, has no idea what he did to my family ten years ago. He asks me to fight for his cause—but he won’t tell me exactly what that cause is. And then he tells me he wants more from me… desires me more than any other because, like him, I have the gift.

I can’t deny he’s the most handsome man I’ve ever seen, with eyes black like midnight, a jawline as sharp as his dragon’s talons, the height of a mountain, and shoulders as broad as a stream. But no amount of attraction will ever change the fact that he destroyed my life. The answer is no—and it’ll always be no.

But the Death King doesn’t accept that answer.

This book contains dark themes with subject matter that may be difficult for some readers.