Before tonight Cassie Tate’s biggest concerns were whether she could pass Algebra and how she was going to keep Elora, her best friend, from dressing her in a skimpy fairy costume for Halloween. Her feet were firmly planted in suburban reality and she had no reason to believe her life would be anything but that of a typical teenager. That is until tonight, when Cassie saw something that no human was ever supposed to see; in the blink of an eye she was thrown into the world of the Light and Dark Elves. He comes from a realm where light and dark have fought for millennia. He is of a race known to humans only in myths and legends. The darkness that lives inside him is a part of both who and what he is and it makes him the most gifted spy and assassin in the history of his time. His life is not his own; he lives in the service of the Dark Elf King. He slays who he must, has mercy on no one, is relentless in his hunt, and never tires of seeing his prey fall. He is Triktapic, assassin, spy, most feared of the Dark Elves. Now, in the midst of his King’s complicated plans to expand the Dark Elves’ holdings into the mortal realm, for the first time, Trik finds his loyalties divided. For no Elf, Dark or Light, can turn away from their Chosen. Unbeknownst to the mortal realm, the battle between Light and Dark is being brought to their doorstep. The only one who can keep it at bay holds darkness in his heart like a lover, and the one who can sway that heart must decide if she can look beyond his black past, beyond his evil nature and see the man he is destined to be. The questions must be asked, does love really cover a multitude of sins? Can true love actually conquer all or will his darkness consume those around him until all that stands is an assassin with the blood of the mortal realm on his hands?
“Humans are not to see the Elfin in their true form. They are not to know of our realm. If a human does see an Elfin in their true form their life is forfeit.” ~ Book 1 Law of the Elfin “You summoned me?” Trik knelt before Lorsan and his mate Ilyrana, the leaders of the dark elves. He kept his eyes on the floor as he waited for his King to address him and tried not to show his irritation at having to wait. Lorsan stood, tall like most males of his race. He wore traditional black fitted pants and a black fitted shirt made of a supple material that moved with the body so as to prevent any hindrance of movement during battle. His warriors donned black vests while he wore a vest of gray. His boots came up over his pants and laced up his calves. These were also crafted in such a way as to provide maximum efficiency in battle. They hugged the foot and calves so well that one wearing them couldn’t even tell that he sported any footwear at all. His hair was long, hanging down past the middle of his back and dark as midnight. His eyes were catlike in shape and glowed a deep shade of gold. He was handsome according to the females of his race though a human might find him quite disarming. He folded his arms across his chest as he continued to stare at his most faithful warrior. “Tamsin is planning something.” Lorsan’s mouth tightened as he said the name of the leader of the light elves. His eyes narrowed as he looked down at Trik. “I need to know what it is.” “Forgive my boldness but why do you believe he is planning something?” Trik asked. “Oh for goodness sake, stand up,” Lorsan told him in exasperation. “Since when do you submit to anyone with such grace? It doesn’t suit you and frankly it bores me.” Trik stood slowly with the grace of a cat unfolding itself from a long nap. He looked at Lorsan with a smirk and brushed his long, dark hair from his face; hair so dark that it held a purple hue and shimmered in the firelight from the torches that lined the walls of the throne room. “Far be it from me to be the one to bore you. How shall I entertain you my Liege?” Trik asked giving a dramatic bow. “Shall I dance? Perhaps sing you a song, one of the old ones? Enchant you with one of the many stories of how the dark elves have corrupted the innocent and bathed in the blood of our enemies? Or maybe you would like me to wow you with magic and mind blowing feats of daring?” Trik rose from his bow and winked at the smiling Queen, obviously enjoying his flippantness. “What I would like, Triktapic, is for you to do what you do best. Be invisible. Follow Tamsin’s warriors to the human realm and find out why they have been spending so much time there.” “Do you want me to bring one of the pasty ones back?” Trik asked. Lorsan snorted at the nickname his most trusted spy had given the light elves, poking fun at their immutable pale skin. “No, I don’t want to draw their attention just yet,” said Lorsan. “Just hide and watch. Leave immediately.” Lorsan dismissed him with a wave of his hand. Trik let out a chuckle at his King’s seemingly careless brush-off. He walked slowly toward the door waiting for the inevitable. “Oh and Trik,” Lorsan’s voice carried through the room echoing off the high ceiling. “Liege?” Trik asked not bothering to turn back around. “Try not to get yourself killed. I would hate to have to train another spy and assassin.” “Since you put it that way, I’ll have to stay alive. We both know that there is none such as I,” Trik chuckled. Lorsan let out an exasperated breath. He knew Trik was right; there was no other elf that even came close to matching Trik’s talents, if that’s what you wanted to call them. When it came to covert operations and undetected killing, no elves, light or dark, could compare. “And stay away from the human females,” he heard Lorsan’s raised voice as he shut the door behind him. Just before it closed, Trik responded. “No promises there.”
Chapter 1 “Halloween is here and once again I’m struggling to pick a costume. Once again I am trying desperately to ward off Elora’s attempts to turn me into some sort of gothic princess or dark fairy. If you happen to see me strutting down the street in a halter top with wings, glitter in my hair, and three inch heels, please shoot me on sight.” ~ Diary of Cassie Tate “I’m not wearing that Elora. You might as well take that pattern and stuff it back into the bag of long lost costumes that should never see the light of day.” Cassie climbed into her best friends beat up Dodge Neon. The door creaked ominously as she opened it. Chipping red paint sloughed off, revealing a layer of blue beneath it. Who knew what color lay beneath the blue. Elora’s car had been painted several times by her older brother, Oakley, when he had started working at the auto body shop his senior year and the original color was since long forgotten. Few little sisters would have voluntarily allowed their brothers to practice painting on their vehicle, but Elora didn’t have much of a say in the matter. At least he had finally covered up the skull and crossbones he had jokingly, and quite poorly, painted on the hood. “I’m telling you now, as your friend, if you try and wear a costume like you did last year, I will personally put you out of your own misery, not to mention my own,” Elora said in her signature dry voice. She rolled down the window, letting the crisp fall air blow through the car that had, despite the increasingly cool temperature, still grown hot from sitting in the asphalt parking lot that boasted absolutely no shade for the student parking. “Seriously?” Cassie’s jaw dropped open. “That costume was so creative.” Elora rolled her eyes as she started the car. She shifted into drive and pressed the pedal to the metal, coaxing the sputtering little engine to deliver its maximum effort, which resulted in a loud squeal from the tires as the girls pulled out of the school lot. Cassie latched onto the door unconcerned about the loud noise; well acquainted with her friend’s maniacal driving skills. “You were an ant.” Elora’s face scrunched up in distaste. “Yeah, but I wasn’t just an ant. I was an ant on a picnic table.” “Exactly,” Elora responded deadpan. “You were wearing a table. I’m sorry Cass but I draw the line at wearing furniture. We’re seniors this year; we have a responsibility to blow the minds of all the underclassmen peons.” Cassie laughed. “What about Charlie’s Angels? They are some kick butt females.” Elora raised a single pierced eyebrow at her best friend. “Do you really see this,” she motioned to her face and then her body, “as Charlie’s Angels material?” Cassie looked over at her friend. There was no doubt that Elora was beautiful, but not in a typical way. She was heavy into the Goth scene. Her hair was dyed jet black, with the exception of the bright red chunks she put in it. She wore it in long layers with bangs sweeping across her face intentionally creating a mysterious air. She had a stud resting in her left brow; four piercings in her left ear, five in her right, a stud in her right nostril, and, of course, a stud in her tongue. She wore dark eye shadow that gave her purple eyes, made possible by colored contacts, an enigmatic sparkle. She was naturally fair skinned, so she didn’t bother with any powder on her face and her skin was flawless anyways. She wore black, black, and more black and she rocked it. Black miniskirts with black fishnet tights drew attention to her insanely long legs on her five foot, seven inch frame, which was completed by black combat boots and an off the shoulder shirt revealing a black halter top. Around her neck dangled various crystals, all of which were, according to her mother, effective to promote healing, positive energy, or some other such nonsense. Various rings, ranging from skeletons to talons, adorned nearly every finger. Cassie’s mouth quirked up. “I see your point.” “Just leave the costumes to me. I’m sure my Lisa can help me come up with something dark and sexy.” Elora turned onto Cassie’s street and her tires screeched to a halt in her driveway. Lisa was Elora’s mom and that is what Elora had always called her. Elora wasn’t into titles that she claimed society put on people to set them apart, when, as she put it “we are all human beings who picked their noses as children in front of people without shame and then in secret as adults.” “Who says I want to look dark and sexy?” Cassie asked. “I do,” Elora answered giving Cassie a what kind of question was that glare. “Just remember that we are not standing on a corner trick or treating for the wrong kind of tricks and treats, okay?” Elora rolled her eyes but then added, “That was actually a pretty good analogy.” “So glad I meet your approval.” “I’ll call you later tonight. No doubt you are going to need my help on our English project.” Elora began to back out of the driveway. Cassie motioned for her to roll down her window. “I have to go up to my dad’s work remember?” Cassie yelled to her. “Why do you have to go again?” “His assistant is out for the week and he asked me to do some of the filing and whatever other meaningless tasks she does,” Cassie said in exasperation. “Okay. We’ll work on the paper tomorrow. It’s not due until Friday anyway,” Elora waved as she continued out of the driveway and peeled and puttered off down the street. Cassie looked at her watch and realized that she was already late. She walked over to her less than impressive, not to mention ancient, Honda Civic, digging her keys from her backpack. Once she had them, she tossed her backpack into the back seat, slid into the driver’s seat, and started it up. She backed out of the driveway in a much more reasonable fashion than Elora just did, and headed towards her dad’s work in downtown Oklahoma City. ~ “Dad, I’m here.” Cassie hollered as she walked into the reception area of Woodland Oil Company, Inc. From what little she knew of her dad’s work, he handled the company’s financial stuff and had the words “President of,” in front of his name. She walked past the reception desk and down a long hallway passing office after office on either side. Her father’s office was the last one at the end of the hall. She knocked and opened the door when she heard his voice. William Tate, III sat at his paper-covered desk, tie loosened around his neck, his salt and pepper hair rumpled from continually running his hands through it. “Come on in, Cass,” her father said and she noticed how tired he sounded. He always sounded tired, Cassie thought to herself. He worked way too much. Though he never complained about it, Cassie could tell the long hours were wearing him down. She made a mental note to bug him later about taking her on a vacation. It was for his own good. “Hey,” she said with her brightest smile, hoping to bring a little energy into the stale room. She wanted to wrap him in a hug when he returned her smile and he immediately looked at least ten years younger. “So what do I need to do?” William stood and his six foot, three inch form seemed to make the large office shrink a bit. With a flat stomach, large muscular arms and powerful legs, William Tate was an avid athlete. He tried his hardest to make time to do push-ups and sit-ups in his office throughout the day. Aside from his graying hair, he looked much younger than his forty-six years. He laid the papers that were in his hands down as he came around his desk and motioned for her to follow him back down the long hallway to the reception area. His assistant, an older, frumpy woman named Martha, kept her desk in meticulous order. He pulled a box of papers out from under the organized desk. “These need to be filed alphabetically into these file cabinets.” Then he pulled another box from the other side of the large file cabinets. “These need to be shredded,” he motioned to the box. “The shredder is actually in the break room which is out those doors,” he pointed to the main office doors. “Down the hall, on the left.” “That seems like an odd place for a shredder,” Cassie said absently. Her dad let out a huff of laughter. “You don’t have to tell me. But do you want to be the one who tells Martha where she should put her shredder?” He turned to go back to his office then paused. “You’ll be okay out here by yourself?” Cassie rolled her eyes. “Dad, I’m eighteen. Technically I no longer require supervision.” He let out a groan. “Don’t remind me,” he said, leaving her to it. An hour and three paper cuts later, Cassie finally finished the filing. She stood and stretched her legs and then her arms. She looked down at the box full of papers to be shredded and quickly decided that she was not going to be able to carry it down the long hall. She looked around the office for some sort of cart. “Bingo,” she smiled as she pulled a rolling cart from a closet to the right of Martha’s desk. She hefted the heavy box onto the cart and then steered it from the office and down the long hall. Cassie had to admit that it was kind of creepy being alone in a large building, knowing there was no one else inside. It reminded her of a movie that she once saw where the lead character woke up from a lengthy coma and staggered from the hospital only to discover that there was no one left alive in the city. She found the door that her dad had been talking about and poked her head inside to make sure that it was indeed empty. She saw that no one occupied the room and proceeded to pull the cart inside and over to the shredder sitting at the back of the room. She began the monotonous task of pushing paper into the machine and listening to the grinding sound it produced as it cut the paper into tiny pieces that would be impossible to read. Just as she grabbed the last of the papers, she heard raised voices that sounded as if they were coming from just beyond the wall to her right. Cassie froze. Without thinking, she tried to quiet her breathing, which had inexplicably begun to speed up. Cassie stood and walked over to the wall and pressed her ear to it. The voices were intoxicating, smooth and intriguing, like melted milk chocolate. She found herself wanting to get closer, wanting to find out who could have such a voice. Before she realized it, she found herself walking back out of the break room and to the very next door in the hall. The wall of this office was made of glass instead of painted sheet rock. The blinds that hung in front of the glass were closed, blocking her view to the inside of the room. She walked a few steps down the hall, passing in front of the glass. When she reached the end of the glass, she saw that there was a small, roughly four inch opening where the blinds weren’t quite covering the window. She peered in through the opening and her breath caught in her throat. A long table filled the room and was surrounded by chairs, half of which were filled with men, though they were far from normal looking. These men were beautiful, regal, and masculine all at the same time. Each had long hair, board straight and shiny, with unorthodox coloring. The hair of one of the men was stark white, though he looked as if he were in his early twenties. Another sported hair of pale blue, while another’s was light purple. This was bizarre in and of itself, but that was far from their most unusual feature. Cassie’s mouth dropped open when she noticed that their ears were pointed at the tips. Not sort of pointed, like some people have, which are often described as ‘elfin’ in appearance. No, these ears were well and truly pointed, strikingly different from anything she had ever seen before. Cassie blinked her eyes and rubbed them fiercely, trying to make sure that she wasn’t just seeing things that weren’t really there. She looked away from their ears and instead studied their faces. Again she noted that they were inhumanly good looking. Everything about their faces was perfect. High cheek bones, straight, perfectly proportioned noses, pale, smooth, flawless skin that seemed to shimmer under the florescent lights. Then she noticed that their eyes, like their pointy ears, seemed unbelievable. They sparkled, containing unnatural colors that appeared to match the color of their hair. One of the beautiful men stood from the table and she saw that he was unusually tall. His fitted clothes left no wonder to his body structure. This man’s hair shimmered a dark blue, and his eyes were a matching sapphire. He was muscular, but far from bulky. He was built for speed and agility. He wore loose fitting brown pants that looked as if they would allow him to move without hindrance. The material of his white shirt appeared to be the same as his pants and while it also seemed to be fitted for allowing maximum movement, was tight enough to reveal a flat stomach. His chest was broad, but not too thick. His arms, even covered by the sleeves of his shirt, were obviously muscular. He began to walk around the table and she noted that his movements where so smooth as to be catlike in their grace. He walked confidently, owning the room and commanding the attention of the others. As he drew closer to the back of the room, nearer to where Cassie stood on the other side of the glass, she held her breath, wondering if he could hear her. He stopped only feet away from her on the other side of the glass and his eyes snapped up, meeting hers. His piercing stare seemed to root her in the spot, even though everything inside her was telling her to run as fast and far as she could from the room, and the beautiful men that occupied it. His lips began to move and the motion of another man standing behind him broke her eyes from the intense stare. She saw that the man was moving towards the door. Cassie made a quick decision, albeit the wrong quick decision. Instead of heading in the direction of her dad’s office, she turned and ran in the opposite direction, grabbing the first door she came to. The door opened into an empty office next to the conference room. She rushed inside and pulled the door closed, pushing the lock in place, not bothering to check and see if the room was empty. Once again, not her brightest moment. Her breath came in rapid pants and her heart was beating so hard it felt like it was going to jump straight out of her chest. She pressed her ear to the door, listening to see if she had been followed. When she didn’t hear anything she turned, pressing her back to the door and tilting her head up. Her eyes closed as she let out a long, nervous breath. She stood there for several moments composing herself before she felt someone’s eyes on her. Letting out an inward groan before she opened her eyes, she nearly whimpered knowing that she was going to find someone staring at her. Deciding that there was nothing left to do but face the individual, she opened her eyes and slowly scanned the room. They stopped on a figure with his arms crossed, leaning against the wall that separated the room from the conference room where the impossibly beautiful men sat. He looked as if he didn’t have a care in the world and didn’t appear to be surprised to see her there. She couldn’t move or speak. Like the men she had just seen, he was gorgeous, unbelievably so. For a moment the person seemed to flicker and someone else stood before her, equally gorgeous, and then he returned to his original appearance. She frowned, puzzled by the strange occurrence, but was quickly distracted when he spoke to her. “Well hello, beautiful.” His voice was deep, resonating to her very soul. It was smooth and as flawless as his form. Cassie still couldn’t speak. Her mind was too busy taking in his appearance. His hair, dark as midnight, fell across his forehead and was long enough to tuck behind his ears. Long lashes framed his silver eyes, which shined when they caught the light. He had high cheekbones and a straight, aristocratic nose. His lips were red and full, and appeared to Cassie as if they were made for all things pleasurable. He was tall and, like the other men that she had seen, muscular but not overly so. If his looks were not enough to disarm her, then adding the clothing would take care of it. If she had to describe his clothes in one word it would be ‘medieval.’ He wore black pants, that appeared to be the same material as the others, fitted to his form, a black shirt that was molded to his arms and over the shirt he wore a black vest that looked like it was designed for protection more than style. He had on black boots that came up over his pants and laced all the way around his claves. Her eyes ran slowly back up his body and when they returned to his face, she saw a smug, knowing smile. She blushed at having been caught obviously ogling him. “Had your fill?” He asked her and the teasing was evident in the mischief dancing in his unusual silver eyes. He continued to watch her and seemed to be waiting for something but Cassie’s mind was lost in a fog of desire and longing. “I’m wondering if someone as beautiful as you can speak,” he said. “And if so, will the intelligence level be so wanting that it ruins the outer package.” That caught her attention and pushed through the fog. “Are you asking if I’m an idiot?” Cassie asked incredulously after finding her voice. He smiled a slow, Cheshire Cat smile and the look in his eyes made her shiver. “She speaks,” he uncrossed his arms and one hand came up to cover his heart as he pushed away from the wall and took a step towards her, “and her voice is a caress to my soul. I suppose if you have a voice like that then I could tolerate you not being the brightest bulb in the box.” Cassie’s mouth dropped open at the insult. She too pushed away from the door, not considering the fact that she was in a locked room with a guy that she didn’t know, who looked dangerous and unpredictable. “What makes you an authority on intelligence levels?” She snapped. He took another step towards her, his eyes never leaving hers. “I’m a genius,” he answered with a look that said “duh.” “Oh. Well in that case, you being an ass is totally okay.” Cassie let out an exasperated breath as she continued to watch him. “Perhaps I am being a tad rude.” He stepped closer still and was suddenly only a foot away from her. He swept down in a dramatic bow and stood back up, looking at her with smoldering eyes that had her holding her breath. “My apologies, my lady. Will you let me start our introduction over?” Cassie could still hear the playfulness in his voice but there was something else as well, something that made her feel like he really wanted to know her. He reached his hand out, waiting for her to place hers in it. She looked at the hand and then back up at him. Something in her screamed, ‘don’t do it’ and yet she slowly lifted her hand and placed it in his. He wrapped his strong fingers around it and his eyes squeezed closed. She felt a jolt of power burst up her arms. She wanted to pull away, yet she also wanted to wrap herself in his arms, to have him touch her, kiss her, love her. Her eyes, which had closed at some point, popped open. Love? WTH, she thought to herself. Cassie get a clue, he’s dangerous, it’s written all over his lovely form. Yes, he is, but I still want him. She frowned at the petulant voice her subconscious had suddenly become. She shook her head, trying to clear it. She felt her feet moving forward and realized that he was pulling her to him. She was standing mere inches from his face. She tilted her head back to look up at him and found his silver eyes staring back at her. His brow was furrowed and she could see the questions on his face. “You saw me?” He asked her disbelievingly. “My true form, you saw it.” “What do you mean?” She asked, her voice wavering under his intense scrutiny. “Cassie, beautiful Cassie, what are you? How could you possibly see my true form?” He still held her hand in his and with his other hand he ran a finger down her jaw causing her to shiver again. She wanted to take a step back, needed to take a step back, but she couldn’t move. “How do you know my name?” She asked. His lips lifted in a crooked smile. “I saw it in your mind.” He said it like it was the most normal thing in the world. Cassie tried to pull her hand away but he tightened his hold. “You think you can read my mind?” She asked slowly, as if speaking to a child. “Not think, know,” his finger was now trailing slowly, so very slowly across her bottom lip. “I know that you think my lips are made for pleasure.” Cassie felt the blood rush to her face in embarrassment. “Oh,” she squeaked out. She cleared her throat and tried again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” It came out more as a question than the firm statement she had been going for. His finger continued to run gently across her jaw and down her neck to her collarbone. “I know about the time you fell out of the tree in your front yard and broke your arm because you were trying to rescue the neighbor’s cat. I know that you aren’t sure you even believe in prayer or the One you pray to, but it comforts you. I know that you think that your best friend is prettier than you are and I know that you do not see yourself clearly if you think that.” Cassie’s breath was coming in short gasps as she listened to this guy she had just met, and didn’t even know his name, tell her things that there was no possible way that he could know. She felt like she was suffocating; she couldn’t get enough air and her sight started to fade. “Come on beautiful, breathe for me.” His voice sounded far away though she knew he was standing inches from her. She felt his breath on her face as he spoke. His scent swirled around her and as she breathed in and out, she felt like she might be drunk on the smell. She felt him brushing her hair away from her face and then tilted her chin back to look up at him. She blinked as she looked at his inhumanly handsome face. She saw his features flicker again. For a brief moment, he had long, pitch black hair, pointed ears, and eyes so silver and clear that they shimmered like diamonds. His face shifted slightly. If she thought that he couldn’t be even more beautiful, she was wrong. Then, in the blink of an eye, she was again looking at the man with shorter dark hair, regular ears, and eyes that were a more subdued, yet stunning grey. “Wwwhat was that?” She stumbled over her words. Finally getting her feet to move she pulled back from him staring up at his widened eyes. When he continued to stare at her instead of answering her, she gathered her thoughts. She turned to look back at the door where she had entered. She could hear the other men out in the hall, speaking in low tones. “They are going to find me soon. I need to go.” She looked back and nearly jumped when her face almost ran into his chest. She tilted her head to look up into his face. “They won’t look for you in here,” he told her confidently. “They will eventually. It’s pretty obvious since its right next door to the room they were just in and I hid so quickly,” she reasoned. His lips formed a wickedly crooked smile. “They won’t find you because I won’t let them.” “And who are you, exactly?” Cassie raised a single eyebrow in question at him. He leaned forward until his mouth was mere inches from hers. “I’m yours,” he whispered. Cassie snorted out a short, abrupt laugh to cover up the gasp his words caused. “Does that work on all the girls?” Suddenly his head whipped up as the handle of the door began to jiggle. Cassie’s body tensed as she turned to look at the door, ready to bolt like a frightened animal. “Cassie, are you in there?” Cassie let out a relieved breath as she heard the voice of her father. She took a step towards the door but was stopped abruptly when an arm snaked around her waist. She let out a gasp of air as her back came in contact with a very firm chest. She felt his breath on her ear as his lips grazed her skin. “I will see you again, beautiful.” She closed her eyes briefly as she tried not to enjoy the sensation of being held so confidently. When he released her she headed quickly for the door and as she unlocked it and began to turn the knob, she felt his breath on her neck again and then a whisper. “Trik, my name is Trik.” She turned to look over her shoulder at him but there was no one there.
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Before tonight Cassie Tate’s biggest concerns were whether she could pass Algebra and how she was going to keep Elora, her best friend, from dressing her in a skimpy fairy costume for Halloween. Her feet were firmly planted in suburban reality and she had no reason to believe her life would be anything but that of a typical teenager. That is until tonight, when Cassie saw something that no human was ever supposed to see; in the blink of an eye she was thrown into the world of the Light and Dark Elves.
He comes from a realm where light and dark have fought for millennia. He is of a race known to humans only in myths and legends. The darkness that lives inside him is a part of both who and what he is and it makes him the most gifted spy and assassin in the history of his time. His life is not his own; he lives in the service of the Dark Elf King. He slays who he must, has mercy on no one, is relentless in his hunt, and never tires of seeing his prey fall. He is Triktapic, assassin, spy, most feared of the Dark Elves.
Now, in the midst of his King’s complicated plans to expand the Dark Elves’ holdings into the mortal realm, for the first time, Trik finds his loyalties divided. For no Elf, Dark or Light, can turn away from their Chosen.
Unbeknownst to the mortal realm, the battle between Light and Dark is being brought to their doorstep. The only one who can keep it at bay holds darkness in his heart like a lover, and the one who can sway that heart must decide if she can look beyond his black past, beyond his evil nature and see the man he is destined to be.
The question must be asked, does love really cover a multitude of sins? Can true love actually conquer all or will his darkness consume those around him until all that stands is an assassin with the blood of the mortal realm on his hands?