A Knight of Cold Graves by Clara Coulson

A Knight of Cold Graves

A Knight of Cold Graves (The Revenant Reign Book 1) by Clara Coulson
English | 2020| Urban Fantasy | ePUB | 2.5 MB

“Even the strong force of fate can’t blow the coming storm off course.”

Until they were eleven years old, identical twins Saul and Tanner Reiz were inseparable. Then a terrible accident sent Saul spiraling down a delinquent path that ultimately spurred him to run away from home. And so Tanner wandered into an average adulthood alone, while Saul wandered into something altogether…different.

But when a case of mistaken identity unexpectedly throws Tanner and Saul back together after twelve long years of separation, the brothers find themselves stumbling through a race to stop a dangerous magic conspiracy that’s been building in the shadows of the world for generations.

Three innocent girls have been kidnapped. A dangerous weapon has been stolen. And a deadly ritual has been set in motion that, if successful, could disastrously alter the course of the future.

Saul and Tanner have mere hours to unravel the mystery and rescue the girls. But the enemies they face harken back to a time of myth and legend, populated by knights and wizards and powers beyond belief. So if the brothers can’t quickly reconcile their decade’s worth of differences, they may very well lose the battle…and the world may lose the war.

What did not fit the cottage was a man dressed in a long black coat, with a sword at his side and a knife in his hand that he’d used to cut his palm. Though Kim was still two hundred feet out from her house, she could taste the blood-born magic, a powerful spell that whispered dark tidings beneath the dull roar of the wind.

The man, who stood just outside the boundary of the targeted inferno ward, held out his hand toward the cottage’s door, and a dark-blue light emanated from his palm. He was searching for weaknesses among the array of defensive wards so carefully woven into the windows, the walls, and the very foundation of the cottage.

He wouldn’t find any, Kim knew. And when he didn’t, the sorcerer would switch to the brute-force approach. He’d try to rip her wards apart, layer by layer, unwind all the work she had meticulously sewn into the fabric of her house.

The mere thought made Kim furious. What audacity this man possessed, to think he could so easily rip to shreds the work of a witch like her. She clicked her tongue against her teeth and began to weave the tidings of her own spell.

Words that were hot like fire danced between her teeth, and carried with them the taste of cinnamon spice and a touch of mint. The spell was an old favorite, one her past selves had used to great effect in the many centuries they’d protected their precious charge. So Kim thought it was fitting to use it once again to smack this man and his nasty blood magic, riddled with the putrid smell of decay—

Kim slammed on the brakes. The hatchback skidded twenty feet farther down the road, producing a screech that half the island could hear. But Kim was less concerned about being heard and more concerned about living through the next five seconds.

She hurriedly unclipped her seatbelt, struggling to untangle it from the folds of her fluffy coat. Then she opened the door and dove from the car, landing in a hard roll on the opposite lane of the road.

The instant her knees hit the ground, something that weighed nearly forty stone landed on her hatchback and completely crushed the roof. It was what Kim had smelled, its undead scent mixed with the copper tang of the sorcerer’s blood magic. It was a manticore, with the body of a lion, the tail of a scorpion, and the head of a human being. It was a necromantic chimera, the product of the most forbidden and reviled of the magic arts.

Unconstrained necromancy. The darkest path a sorcerer could take.

The past incarnations of Kim had not faced a necromancer skilled enough to construct a manticore in over two hundred years. Necromancy as an art had waned in recent times, due in part to the overall decline of magic driven by the Industrial Revolution, and due in part to the slow but consistent organization of magic practitioners on a global scale, a development that allowed the preternatural community to better police its many rogues.



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