Crown Of Fangs – Faith James

We may have met at one point, on some bloody battlefield or other. But I cannot appear too eager to escape the coming onslaught, even if my shoulder blades twitch with the effort of containing my wings and my voice sounds somewhat garbled because of my sprouting fangs as I say, “I am a warrior, Your Grace.

I will stand and fight with you. The guards need only look after Edda. And I thought Valkyrien only take those who have been slain in battle, those they wish to honor in Odin’s great feasting halls.” I have little talent for telling lies, even if my very existence is one. But I am impressing myself with these deceptions. Valkyrien have a rather precious reputation in the old realm of Hjartagard.

There, they were mythologized as demi-goddesses of the battlefield, angels who deliver heroes to the halls of their fathers. Such stories are utter tripe, of course, and probably circulated by the Valkyrien themselves to conceal their evil doings. I would say more to Drengr, to convince him I wish to stand by his side and fight, but I will do as I am bid, for I am intent on being a dutiful queen.

It does not seem an opportune moment, however, as he unsheathes his blade and prepares to slay my sisters. My false sisters, that is. I have nothing in common with these creatures who revel in their bloodthirst. But even as Drengr lowers his helm and clangs his sword against his chest, he answers me– “No, Princess.

These creatures are cursed by Odin, doomed to hunt living warriors to satisfy the appetite of the Great Serpent. I would feel sorry for them, if they were not about to try to take my men. I will not have them take you, as well.” And without another word of explanation, or even a backward glance, he is gone, racing to join his men in the thick of battle, where so many of the Valkyrien congregate.

They hover above the ground, beating their wings, seeming to taunt the warriors below, who have their spears pointed toward them.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual people or events is coincidental. Cover Design by Arcane Covers OceanofPDF.com For My Nana, Betty James Torkomian, 1924-2004 OceanofPDF.com CONTENTS 1. Thyra 2. Thyra 3. Drengr 4. Thyra 5. Drengr 6. Drengr 7. Thyra 8. Drengr 9.

Thyra 10. Thyra 11. Drengr 12. Thyra 13. Thyra 14. Drengr 15. Thyra 16. Thyra 17. Drengr 18. Thyra 19. Drengr 20. Thyra 21. Thyra 22. Drengr 23. Thyra 24. Thyra 25. Thyra 26. Thyra 27. Thyra 28. Drengr 29. Thyra 30. Thyra 31. Thyra 32. Drengr 33. Thyra 34. Drengr Excerpt from Court of Fire Acknowledgments About the Author OceanofPDF.com I 1 THYRA t is Handfasting Day. Otherwise known as my twenty-first birthday, a day I have dreaded for every one of those years.

Perhaps I exaggerate. When I was born, I did not yet know my birth day would, in future, be used to auction me off to the highest bidder, like a prize sow at market. “Hold,” my nurse commands, interrupting my thoughts. It is not strictly accurate to call Edda my nursemaid any longer, as I have been out of leading strings for eighteen years, but old habits are difficult to abandon.

Without question, I grasp a bed post as she tightens the laces of my gunna, as she has countless times before, when there is a feast or festival in my father’s hall or a wedding, which I was always happy enough to attend when it wasn’t my own. What is different, though, is I notice she takes care to tie the laces beneath my breasts, instead of over them. She is freeing them, instead of binding them. “Do not worry so, Edda.

These suitors will want me whether my breasts look pert or not. They want Father’s kingdom, which only I can provide. A good pair of breasts, they can find anywhere.” “You complain too much,” Edda responds as she steers me to the stool by my desk. She is a deft hand at both lecturing and pulling and tugging at me so I am made presentable, all at once.

“Many a noble lady has found herself wedded and bedded before her sixteenth year. Your father gave you over two decades to yourself, free of the cares of a married woman, not to mention a future queen.” To emphasize her point, she pulls my laces with a tug that is even more aggressive than usual.

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.

Book Information

• Unique ID: d6b5e2a8e0cd1c3b
• File Extension: .pdf
• File Size: 1,332,855 bytes (1.271 MB)
• Title: –
• Author: Unknown
• Pages: 246
• Language: English (en)

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• Estimated Reading Time: 447.71 minutes
• Total Words: 89,542
• Total Characters: 478,211
• Average Words per Page: 363.99
• Average Characters per Page: 1943.95

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