Tyrant Of Tarsit - ebook

The states of Arnhid and Tarsit have been fighting for centuries. Armundi, King of Arnhid has hatched a plan to take over Richard III's kingdom and end this bloodshed once and for all.

The only trouble is the mysterious woman who's fallen into his spy's lap and is taking his role as spy. When Malcolm, Richard III's sorcerer, begins to fall for the girl and aches to reveal what he knows of Arnhid to her, the spy must move quickly, before all their planning comes undone.

But in the ashes of the spy's mission comes a tortured truth… A Dark Hero sparking to life…

Excerpt: 

Henry looked Malcolm in the eye, anger to anger. “You’ve been corrupted by the witch, Malcolm. You’ve fallen for her charms. But don’t worry, my friend. You’ll be free to help me take down her master and his rag-tag bunch of half-trained barbarians very soon.” He turned his back on Malcolm, focusing on his father. “She’ll be out of your hair and the enchantment will be gone before you know it.”

Malcolm’s insides froze. “What have you done?” he whispered in horror, fists tightening. “If you’ve hurt her, I swear, Henry—”

“Don’t bother making threats, sorcerer. Your witch will be dead by now,” Henry taunted, his cold gaze locking onto Malcolm’s. “Your loyalty is returned to my father, and, by extension, me. So do what you swore to do, and kill the bastards who destroyed my father and seek to destroy his kingdom!”

Malcolm felt his heart stop, ice flooding every molecule of his body. Henry killed Lauren? Impossible, Malcolm was just with her! But he remembered the long and seemingly-endless trip through the castle, and all the time he’d wasted talking to Henry. All the time Henry’s guards could have used to kill Lauren.

No...no, it can’t be...

“You sick bastard...” Malcolm spat at Henry and dodged the guards reaching out to hold him. He made it out the door, the guards on his tail, and ran as fast as he could for his workrooms.

The door was open and he burst in, sliding to a stop when he realized how many experiments he risked breaking by barreling through his workrooms without heed. He made a quick jog for the corner where Lauren slept and stopped dead when he saw the empty bed, left in a mess. Lauren always made the bed when she got out of it.

He looked around for any clue of where she would have gone, but there was none. The clothes she slept in were on the ground, her leathers gone. So she’d had time to get dressed, at least...

“Lauren!” he yelled, even as the guards ran into the room and stopped, watching the multi-colored liquids hostilely. “Lauren! Please tell me you’re here!”

There was no answer.