Roots Of Rage: A Vampire King Paranormal Romance (Transfusion Saga Book 9)

  Roots of rage

  THE TRANSFUSION SAGA #9

  STEPHANIE HUDSON

  Roots of Rage

  The Transfusion Saga #9

  Copyright © 2020 Stephanie Hudson

  Published by Hudson Indie Ink

  www.hudsonindieink.com

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

  This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it wasn’t purchased for your use only, then please return to your favourite book retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademark status and trademark owners of various products referred to in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorised, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Roots of Rage/Stephanie Hudson – 1st ed.

  ISBN-13 - 978-1-913904-27-2

  Table of Contents

  Roots of rage

  THE TRANSFUSION SAGA #9

  STEPHANIE HUDSON

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  To be continued.

  About the Author

  Also by Stephanie Hudson

  Other Works from Hudson Indie Ink

  Dedication

  I would like to dedicate this book to all my wonderful fans, those who are both new to the Afterlife and Transfusion world and those who have support me for years.

  I cannot thank you enough for keeping my dreams alive for so long and I will be forever and always eternally grateful.

  All my love,

  Steph and family.

  Warning

  This book contains explicit sexual content, some graphic language and a highly addictive Alpha Male.

  This book has been written by a UK Author with a mad sense of humour. Which means the following story contains a mixture of Northern English slang, dialect, regional colloquialisms and other quirky spellings that have been intentionally included to make the story and dialogue more realistic for modern-day characters.

  Please note that for your convenience language translations have been added to optimise the readers enjoyment throughout the story.

  Also meaning…

  No Googling is required ;)

  Also, please remember that this is part of a 12 book saga, which means you are in for a long and rocky ride. So, put the kettle on, brew a cup, grab a stash of snacks and enjoy!

  Thanks for reading x

  Prologue

  Hatred.

  This was what I faced.

  It was what I was told; that I needed to overcome the heart and tears of a God. But through this God’s rage for injustice, a creation like no other had been born. A force formed from the anger of men and one which had sparked such power, that it had forged the Crimson Eye. A seeing glass into the souls of those it chose worthy enough to use. A key to unlock the door into the future, made by the deep and rooted feelings of the God of time and someone who believed he’d had the power to change it.

  That was his lesson to learn…

  Some doors were just never meant to be opened.

  Because time was a dangerous thing and the one who held the power to wield it was the one who had the power to destroy the very Fates that were supposed to guide us into continued existence. And all because a God’s heart bled for humankind, whilst another was playing puppeteer with rotting souls.

  One power born from the Afterlife living for today’s future.

  And another, from the heart of Hell,

  One made from the…

  Roots of Rage.

  Chapter One

  Lucius

  Smoke and Mirrors

  Days Earlier…

  Here we go again.

  Another fucking enemy at my door was something I needed like a fucking hole in the head! Yet here I was, facing another threat to the most important thing in my life, making me question had word somehow got out as to who Amelia was to me?

  This made me think back to moments before when walking from the throne room after nearly killing the fucking shifter with a death wish. But I had to confess to the satisfaction when a certain redheaded, Scottish asshole walked through my throne room doors and had no choice but to be forced to see the object of his desires sat on my lap, encased in my arms. But of course, I was far from a fucking saint and even though I would not admit as much to Amelia, I had orchestrated this very moment, knowing of the shifters’ request to speak with their King.

  The bastard needed to be put in his place…Amelia was mine. I also didn’t give a fuck how primitive or possessive the statement sounded, for I answered to no man. Not even that of my maker…not anymore. No, now I was a free soul and I had worked hard to claim as much.

  Speaking of which,

  “They appeared from within the Echoing Forest without warning,” Carn’reau said standing next to me with his winged beast waiting impatiently behind him. Its blood-thirsty nature was testing its ability to stay at its master’s command seeing as the enemy was within its sights and in its mind, ripe for the taking. His beast was one of great legend and the first of its kind, hence its unbeatable strength in battle. However, for Carn’reau, I knew the beast meant far more to him than I believed anything else in his life. For it was the only being he showed any heart towards at all.

  The creature was known as a Zilant, and one that owed its very existence to the Dark Fae Prince. It was also the only one that currently resided in Hell as it was another elemental being. And, other than his army, the only thing he brought with him after being cast out of his own realm. From what I could gather, it was the closest thing to family he had left and seeing the way he whispered in his own tongue back at it, was testament to this.

  It was also a language he didn’t believe I knew, so the caring and soothing words didn’t come as a surprise to me. Not when they had been ones I had heard spoken before to the beast.

  But then I also knew the benefits as a ruler when allowing those around you to believe what you wanted them to. It was also how I knew that Carn’reau was completely loyal to me, for I had heard him speaking to his men of this in his own tongue. After all, he was nearly as powerful as my brother and I, and with his own army would have had no problem trying to overthrow my rule. Es
pecially with how little time I spent here.

  However, this was not the case. No, instead he took my orders and acted on them with the loyalty of a man who owed his life to me, which he did. For without my acceptance of him then he wouldn’t have survived long without his realm, one that was situated so close to my own. He was at his strongest back in the elemental realm and needed that smallest connection to keep him alive. But he could still leave here for periods of time, it just meant that the longer he was away, the weaker he would eventually become. Which always made me wonder, if he was as strong as he was now, then Gods, what would the heartless bastard be capable of back in his own kingdom?

  A dark thought indeed.

  But, like I said it was that closeness to his own realm that he could still feed from and hence why he had needed my approval. In return I had the use of his men and of his power. In all honesty, it had been the first move I had made when the power I held in Hell began to turn dramatically, and a more equal ground was starting to even out between me and my maker. Much to Lucifer’s annoyance.

  But Carn’reau wasn’t the only ruthless bastard that couldn’t give a fuck about being over ambitious in trying to take what he had the power to take. Because I couldn’t give a fuck about ruling all of Hell, as it was not a Gods be damned headache I needed! Not when I had my own kingdom here and one topside. Like I wasn’t busy enough, I thought holding back a frustrated sigh when facing yet another new thorn in my side. Gods, I’d only just got my girl back and the last fucking thing I needed now was some new threat to face!

  But with regards to the shift in power, as far as I knew, Lucifer had accepted my word on the matter and believed me when I said I wasn’t interested in ruling his world. How long he would continue to believe this I had no clue, but I knew the bastard was a twitchy fucker when it came to his throne. And I suppose I couldn’t blame him, not after seeing how many times others had tried to overthrow him in the past and take possession of his world.

  Thankfully, many had tried and just as many had failed.

  In fact, the closest attempt made that had nearly been successful had been the last time. It was when Lucifer had made his one and only weakness known, despite all warnings from those closest to him, including my brother and myself. Through his love for Pythia, now his queen, he had almost failed to keep that throne and now I knew more than most what a weakness could do to a man in power.

  For clearly…

  It could bring a God to his knees.

  It was why I went to such lengths now to keep my own secret, for no one here could know what she meant to me, for I would not make the same mistake my father did. Lucky for Carn’reau his only weakness was the beast whining at his back and nudging its demonic horned head at its master. It looked like some scaled sea snake, with the body of a horse. A beast, that if legends were correct, had once been his royal steed and he had sacrificed much to give life to the creature before me now.

  Carn’reau was its maker, just as Lucifer was my own.

  Now, the details surrounding it I didn’t know exactly. Only that at one time the Fae who stood next to me now was once worshipped as a God. As for the beast behind him, it was the result of a prayer he heard and couldn’t ignore, not from the beautiful damsel it came from.

  But like I said, the details surrounding it were merely a whisper I had picked up during the times spent among his army, for none of them ever believed I knew their native tongue. But what I did know is that the mortal girl who had once been from old Kazan, had been transformed into the winged beast that was currently snapping and whipping out all eight of its black snaked tails.

  “Calm yourself, Aysilu!” he hushed back at it, using its given name that meant ‘Beauty as Moon’ in Tatar. Historically, the term Tatars referred to anyone originating from the vast Northern and Central Asian landmass, which was then known as Tartary. This had been dominated by mostly Turco-Mongol semi-nomadic empires and kingdoms. Nations built on the blood spilt by none other than the empire of one Genghis Khan. But as for the Gods they worshipped, the Mongols were highly tolerant of most religions, meaning that man was free to believe what they wanted.

  As for their ruler, Genghis Khan believed in Shamanism, a religion connected to the realm of Fae. For this was a religious practice that involves a shaman, one who was believed to interact with a spirit world through altered states of consciousness. The goal of this was usually to direct these spirits or spiritual energies into the physical world for healing, or some other purpose I couldn’t give a fuck about.

  All I knew was that the connections and the power obtained through these rituals were connected to Fae life. And as far as I could tell without asking outright, was that there was a reason the Mongol Empire became the largest contiguous empire in history, even after Genghis Khan’s death. And why, because Carn’reau, being worshipped as a God, had made it happen.

  After all, he was known as a God of War for a reason.

  And speaking of war,

  “What is their race?” I asked my now commander and general.

  “As of yet, it is still unknown, my Lord.” Again, I forced down the urge to sigh and scrub a frustrated hand down my face whilst muttering, ‘for fuck sake’, something I would have felt free to do in the human realm.

  “And their leader?”

  “Still unknown, and as for the look of things, he is either a coward or non-existent.” Now this did make me raise a brow for both were uncommon in Hell. An army without a leader was unheard of and one found at the back of his army calling the shots almost more so. For no army in Hell would have respected such a ruler enough to go to war for. No, something definitely wasn’t right here, and it was time to find out.

  “Take your Zilant, and get a closer look, I want to know exactly what we are dealing with before our army goes into battle,” I ordered, making his silver eyes flash and the black ring that usually framed the iris started to glow crimson. This was a usual reaction before going to war, and one I had seen many times before. It was a show of excitement for what would soon be delivering death on the horizon.

  My general literally lived for moments like this and it was the first time that I felt anything akin to feeling sorry for him. For if death was all that heated his blood then he was fucking missing out that was for damn sure! My thoughts of last night and being seated in the warmth of my Chosen One’s core was a memory that only strengthened that sentiment.

  He bowed his head before turning his back on the shadow of an army barely seen from the cover of the Echoing Forest. Then he ran a gauntleted hand over the scaled head of his restless steed, before grabbing its horn and using it as leverage to heave his large body upon its back. Carn’reau and I shared a similar build, yet he was a few inches taller. Fae were known for their height of course, but were normally of a slimmer build, like most of his army. However, Fae royalty was the exception, for it had to be said the lineage of rulers were obviously known for breeding big, powerful bastards. Making me wonder what his brothers looked like?

  My musing didn’t last long as I watched my general take flight, with his Zilant’s battle cry echoing along my lands, warning of all the rivers of blood that would be sure to follow. However, the moment the beast’s body swooped low at his command I knew there was something wrong when the shadows didn’t move. There were very few that wouldn’t have been running by now with such a sight coming at them.

  “What the fuck?” I muttered the second I saw it suddenly get as low as it could before gliding straight through the army. But the mass of bodies didn’t go crashing into the forest as they should. Horns didn’t spear flesh and the whip of eight barbed tipped tails were met by nothing but smoke.

  Smoke and mirrors.

  Fuck!

  The army wasn’t fucking real! I growled before letting loose a demonic roar of rage when suddenly I knew what this had been. A fucking diversion! The army around me took in my deadly demeanour quickly and in response gave me space as my demon snarled back over at my castle.
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br />   “Amelia!” After her name had left my lips, I opened up my wings and launched myself into the air. My demon roared as I felt every muscle in my body tense and crack with untapped power coursing through my veins. My rage had to be contained before I lost all control, but this was easier said than done when I knew that the fucking army in the forest had all been a ruse.

  It had all been a plan to take what belonged to me! Meaning that army of smoke may not have been able to bleed but the ones that made it most certainly would, and they would do so the second I got my fucking hands on them!

  And well, let’s just say that I had a pretty good idea whose blood I would soon find coating my hands…

  “Fucking Witch!”

  Chapter Two

  Ice Cold Fate

  I landed outside the castle gates with a thundering crack. It was one which travelled the length of the path that led all the way to the colossal doors, splitting the wood. I knew before I even entered my domain that she had been taken, for her presence was gone. But little did whoever took her know of my means of finding her. Especially when it was so soon after feeding from her. In fact, I could still taste her blood on my tongue, something that turned bitter the second I saw my brother barking out orders in the throne room.

  “Šeš! The girl, she is—” I cut him off the second I had his throat in my hands, demanding with a roar of rage,

  “WHERE IS SHE!?” He closed his eyes for a moment and allowed my anger to wash over him before absorbing it and using it to stoke the embers of his own power. When his eyes opened again they flashed a deeper green before black, and with great calm and restraint, as was needed for those still around us, he replied,

  “I don’t know.” I snarled before letting him go, wishing I could cast blame his way, when deep down I knew it was my own doing. After all that had happened my first priority should have been to get Amelia to my tower and seal her there knowing she would be safe, for no one would be granted access. But in my haste and my anger I had foolishly thought that being within the walls of my castle would be enough. Feeling confident in this to meet the army head on and eliminate all threat before it could reach my castle doors.