Heart of a Kingdom

Book Three of the Aruvalia Chronicles

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When the truth has been buried
A warrior must expose the lies
Even if all other ears seem deaf

In order to safeguard Aruvalia’s throne and prevent the looming threat of war, Domerin has committed a heinous crime. His former work partner, Gregory Barrow, is aware of the transgression and hell bent on bringing him to justice. But that isn’t the indomitable warrior’s biggest problem.

In order to finish his mission and ensure his sacrifice isn’t all for naught, Domerin must infiltrate one of Aruvalia’s most notorious and dangerous criminal complexes – and he must do it alone, without the aid of a support team or even the powerful sorcerer who assisted him in Ebonhollow. Failure means death at the hands of Aruvalia’s greatest enemy. But success might mean exile even if he restores Aruvalia’s rightful heir to her throne.

Clara and her mysterious voice are determined not to let a terrible fate befall their precious protector. But in order to guide him through the worst of the challenge ahead, they have to accompany him – and Domerin is determined not to put Clara in danger a second time. Not after the horrors of Ebonhollow.

While Clara and her mysterious friend race to find a way to circumvent Domerin’s protective arrangements, Domerin descends into the lion’s den to face off against a powerful sorcerer, his crazed ex-boyfriend, and the tenacity of the man he used to work with side by side – all to determine the fate of his beloved kingdom. But can he emerge in one piece? And if he does, what fate will await him on the other side?

Deep in Enemy Territory
Domerin darted down a side hallway and checked each of the offshoots for signs of rough caverns. He saw none.

The longer he stayed in the corridor, the harder his heart pounded, filling his ears with the roar and rush of blood, which made it difficult to hear footsteps and muttered orders. Most of the patrols used hand signals to keep silent, and he only avoided the next because they were engaged in a whispered conversation to fill the boredom during their duties.

He needed to find a door or corridor marked with more than a letter and a number. He needed to peek through a window slit and see a lab, server room or high-ranking officer.

In desperation, he backtracked, moving up a level in hopes that would help. He spent fifteen tense minutes tucked into the well beneath the stairs waiting for the echoes of the open space to fade so he could move with confidence.

He was already drenched in sweat, but he didn’t have time to worry about discomfort. He kept one hand close to the gun at his hip and checked every direction before he moved, pausing often to strain his ears.

Heart in his throat, Domerin dove through several corridors, risking discovery to avoid discovery, until he settled back into the silent stillness near the vent he abandoned.

He was only two turnings away from some rough corridors. If he could just catch a hint of the patrols, he would be golden.

But his luck had run out.

The heavy click of footfalls turned directly into his corridor.

Cursing silently, Domerin rolled to his feet and drew his gun. These were not patrol officers, but it was clear everyone in Karis’s employ was at least trained to fight. He was building an army. The nobility wouldn’t lift a finger to help, but they’d supply the money to fund that army, ensuring every new arrival received a firearm and knowledge of how to use it.

Domerin backed up and darted around a corner before either of the shocked office workers could react, but they instantly called over their shoulders to an approaching patrol. Within moments, two of the surprised guards bolted around the corner.

Domerin slammed the butt of his gun over the first man’s skull, dropping him like a rock. Then he leapt lightly over the body and wrapped his arm around the second soldier’s neck, squeezing to cut off his air supply.

The soldier fought, digging his nails into Domerin’s wrist and kicking his shins with his boots, but Domerin gritted his teeth and dragged the man backward, maintaining pressure.

The second soldier had just run out of air when the rest of the patrol arrived, and not from the direction Domerin expected. Cursing, he darted back toward the familiar hallway. He barely managed to dive down another passage when the first shot flew toward his back.

The sound echoed through the corridors, neatly blowing his cover. Half this section of the complex would be on their way to his location in a moment, which meant he needed a new plan.