A kingdom in turmoil or the love of her life. Which one will she save?
Elemental mage Rielle hasn't heard from her best friend in far too long. Yet no one at the Tower of Magic seems to care about Olivia’s silence, or the curtain of secrecy surrounding the distant capital. Before Rielle can investigate, she's assigned a strange new mission: escort a knight named Jon across the kingdom.
When whispers reveal mercenaries have killed the king and taken the capital and that no one is coming to help, Rielle can’t leave Olivia in peril. But as infamous mages and deadly assassins hunt Jon, she can’t leave him unprotected either--especially as she finds herself falling for his strength, his passion, and his uncompromising goodness. Her past returns to haunt her, a werewolf stalks their steps, and an ancient evil is gathering, yet the restraints forbidding their love strain and snap one by one.
Saving Olivia and the kingdom means defying orders and sacrificing her every ambition, and could mean losing the man who's become so much more to her than a mission. Which will she choose: her best friend and the kingdom, or the love of her life?
If you like the romance of A Court of Thorns and Roses, the epic adventure of Game of Thrones, and a heroine who never gives up, you’ll love this romantic epic fantasy series.
Buy Blade & Rose this November and dive into a medieval world sensual and dark, full of magic and greed, love and blades, where factions vie for influence and there are no easy choices.
Click the Instafreebie button to the left to download the free 64-page sneak preview!
Out the fifth-story window, or not at all.
Rielle sprang from the bed and grabbed one of her mage coats, white wool with the Master Mage’s four-bar chevron on the sleeves, and fastened the double rows of buttons from neck to hip. Gloves next. After all, she didn’t want the glow of spellcasting to give her away. She slipped her hands into the wool-lined black leather and flexed her fingers. A new pair. The heat of her pyromancy last mission had deteriorated the previous set.
With a flick of her wrist, she extinguished the fireplace, willing the flame away. Then the candles, one by one, until only darkness and the faint silvery glow of the gibbous moon remained. She tossed her braid over her shoulder and opened the window latch.
If one of the guards on wall duty looked at the Tower instead of out at the gates and the surrounding wilds . . . A Master Mage jumping out her window would not go unreported.READ MORE
Her gaze darted to the crystal goblet on her desk, and Olivia’s latest letter beneath it, bearing the same runic protection she and Olivia always used. Rielle had read it a dozen times already and replied three weeks ago.
Olivia’s response from the capital should have arrived by now. And no one was punctual like Olivia. Rielle had notified the Proctor of the Emaurrian Tower of Magic about Olivia’s long-overdue letter, had asked about word from the capital, and had gotten exactly nothing as an answer. Either no one knew or no one cared.
But tonight, she’d get her answer—from a contact outside the Tower. A werewolf. The kind of monster thought to exist only in fairy tales. The kind of monster that incited mobs bearing torches and pitchforks.
The full moon was a week away, so she had to meet Brennan before then anyway. If she didn’t, he’d have no control over his Change when it came. As much as she despised Brennan, she didn’t want him to turn into an uncontrollable monster, possibly killing innocent people and endangering himself. Papa had always told her, Leave well enough alone. The lesson, however, had never taken.
And so she’d be seeing Brennan. Perhaps he’d even have some answers about Olivia, or at least about the capital.
She tapped the window frame. If she got caught, she would never see anything but the inside of a dungeon ever again, and Brennan—well, mobs were unkind.
Her boot perched on the parapet, she peered at the ground. Dark. Quiet. Empty. Farther from the Tower, torches illuminated the walls of the inner bailey, and farther yet, they dotted the walls of the outer bailey and the gates. Beyond, white pines challenged the midnight sky, their peaks silvered by the aloof moon’s gaze. The forest—that was her destination.
An early autumn wind riffled her coat. She shivered, eyeing the five-story drop as she climbed onto the parapet. With a curl of her index and middle fingers, she called an updraft strong enough to catch her and held it. This better work.