Queen of the Lost Boys by T.S. Kinley EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: T.S. Kinley
- Language: English
- Genre: Fairy Tales
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
My life was a collection of the decisions I’d made. One wrong move, one
altered course and I would have been residing in Davy Jones’s locker
centuries ago. I’d trusted in fate, that seductive temptress, to lead me on the
proper course. She had been a vindictive bitch at times, and I cursed her
name on many occasions, but she had never steered me wrong. It was with
that deep rooted trust that I found myself at the entrance of the caves below
the Temple Mount.
The ivory walls loomed like an ethereal beacon, luring me into
darkness. It called me down the path that was now in the hands of fate.
Damnation seize my soul and banish it to hell if I am wrong. But I’d made
my decision and I committed to it with every fiber of my being. I had to
tamper down the desperation rising in my chest.
Gwendolyn occupied my every thought and these feelings were foreign
to me. I was completely unprepared to deal with them. I could feel the weak
spot in my soul that ached only for her, and I knew in that moment how
foolish I was. I would do absolutely anything for this girl and I was a dead
man if anyone found out. The need to get to her was overwhelming, but I
did my best to compose myself. It was crucial that I had all of my wits
about me tonight. Her life depended on it. I needed a level head, and maybe
just a bit of luck.
Once the decision had been made, I’d stopped just long
enough to flip a gold coin into the Mysterious River. A symbolic payment.
A promise of my soul for hers if it should come to that.
The familiar sounds of battle carried on the frigid wind, beckoning me
— the clashing of steel, the grunting of men as they fought for their very
existence. It had always been a captivating symphony of life and death, but
now it sent a shiver of panic down my spine. Was I too late? Had I stood,
indecisive, at the crossroads for too long? Had I been complicit in her death
by simply not showing up when she needed me? I had learned a long time
ago that we were all merely pieces in the Divine’s game.
“Were we no
better than chessmen, moved by an unseen power, vessels the potter
fashions at his fancy, for honour or for shame?” Oscar Wilde’s poor Lord
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