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Forsaken Chronicles

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billionaire
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fated
forced
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badboy
aloof
kickass heroine
dare to love and hate
beast
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daemon
ghost
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female lead
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Blurb

Warning: This story is a dark urban fantasy rife with violence. Reader discretion is advised.

Adara has no idea who she is.

What she is.

That doesn’t stop danger from stalking her.

It also does nothing to stem the nightmares.

Caught in her dreams of darkness, Adara attracts the attention of a werewolf and a vampire and wonders if she’s losing her mind. They can’t exist, and her mind says…forget. But she wants to remember. However, if she does, will the truth shatter her?

Includes:

Dreams of Darkness, Awake in Shadows and Kiss of Light.

The Forsaken Chronicles was created by Eve Langlais, an

eGlobal Creative Publishing Signed Author.

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Chapter One : Dreams of Darkness
PROLOGUE She hadn't died - yet. Regaining consciousness proved that at least. However, with the pain coursing through her limbs, a fiery agony that stole her breath so she couldn't find a voice to scream, she wished for sweet oblivion. Overwhelming in its intensity, the torment of her body didn't allow her a moment to think or wonder how she'd ended up in such a state. She only wished for it to end. Giving up so soon? Cool fingers brushed across her temple, leaving behind an icy tingle that spread, and where it crept, it left blessed relief in its wake, a numbness she welcomed. This is what it's like to be free of pain. She savored the brief moment, knowing it wouldn't last long. It never did. The misery retreated, a dark beast that returned to its cave. She opened her eyes. Panic clutched her, for she stared into nothingness. Have I gone blind? Or had she passed through the final veil? "Where am I?" she whispered, her voice a hoarse croak she didn't recognize. "Silence. You weren't given permission to speak." The brusque tone clamped her lips together. At least she wasn't alone - a realization that did little to quell her inner trepidation. Small sounds - the whisper of fabric as something moved, a hushed murmur as if more than one person were present - drifted to her, and yet, all around, only darkness reigned. At her sides, her hands lay flat on cold stone. The surface not entirely smooth. Etchings were chiseled into it. She dragged her nails across the hard surface before curling her fingers into fists. She tried to push herself up to a seated position, but a heaviness upon her chest kept her pinned. Not a strap, or even a hand holding her down, more like a pressure, the very air itself keeping her prisoner. What's happening? She didn't know, which only served to feed her panic. Her breathing quickened. "Enough. Calm yourself." The commanding voice cut through her anxiety, and despite the situation, her limbs loosened - a relaxation she didn't truly feel. "It is time," a deep voice announced. Time for what? she wanted to ask, however, her mouth would not respond. "What is your name?" Cold and impersonal, the questioner - not the same one who'd spoken before - paused to allow her time to answer. Caught in the dark, bodiless limbo, she could only look within herself, an even scarier vacuum. She peeked around every corner of her mind. Looked for doors to open. Any hint of an answer. She found nothing. Not even an echo. Aching sorrow gripped her as she whispered, "I have no name. I am nobody." "Where do you come from?" Another query by the faceless voice that made her want to scream, Who are you and what do you want? Instead, the answer rose without conscious thought and slipped from her mouth. "Nowhere." "What do you remember?" Once again, she reached into the shadowy recesses of her mind, searching for something, anything. Who am I? Only a hollow void loomed around her. "Nothing." "What are you?" Finally, a question she had an answer for. How could she not when it rang in her head, screamed at her in all its ugliness? A tear streaked down her cheek. "Forsaken."

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