Page 3 of A Kiss From Death (Oath of Vengeance #1)

I will cheat, fuck, or kill any person who comes between me and my revenge.

And make no mistake—I will have zero regrets doing it.

My body is just a vessel to use at this point, and I will take advantage of it in any way possible.

I will burn this world to the ground, ashes to motherfucking ashes, even if that means burning with it.

It was easier than I thought to knock out the pathetic guard half-dozing off instead of keeping watch of the bowl.

Just a quick silent headlock, and he was out like a light.

Maybe I punched him in the face as well, just to make sure he was out.

Broken noses don’t take too long to heal, so I would call myself a saint of a lady today.

Citizens of Fallout train their entire lives to be prepared for the off chance they are selected to enter the blood bath games. Two members from each of the five sectors are chosen at random for the year each summer by the Empress up in Lunaria.

Each year the Crucible looks a little different, making it next to impossible to prepare for—all done by design, of course, to give our lunatic of an Empress the grandest show.

Her wicked mind comes up with the cruelest ways to test each participant’s physical and mental barriers, all for her enjoyment.

Each round ramps up in difficulty and deadliness, leaving a single survivor in the end.

No member of Fallout is required to enter themselves into the Crucible, but that doesn’t mean there’s a shortage of willing participants. Quite the opposite, actually.

Each year, the number of participants increases, making it next to impossible to get chosen. Even with the knowledge of two contestants being sacrificed each round until one winner is chosen during the fifth and final doesn’t slow the influx of people risking it all for a chance to play.

Members of Fallout are greedy and power hungry, which is exactly why so many of them are willing to risk their lives for the chance of winning the ultimate prize.

Magic .

Not a single soul living in Fallout possesses the ability to wield magic except the Empress and her Vanquishers, who are tasked with guarding and protecting her when she is down here, living in the smaller version of the castle above. It’s a phenomenon .

Empress Gwyndolyn Seraphine is an Impart, meaning she can harness magic from the Earth and gift it to whomever she deems fit.

One’s own soul decides what magic it can harbor and wield and is not decided by the Empress.

Some can take on elemental magic, like controlling water or wind.

Others can emerge with rarer magic, such as telepathy or invisibility.

Most victors of the Crucible end up with some sort of elemental magic, which is the most common.

If you are lucky enough to withstand all five rounds of the Crucible and come out as the victor, Empress Seraphine hosts a huge party in your honor, where she performs the blessing ceremony to grant and announce your new magic.

In winning the Crucible, each victor is also granted a letter of acceptance to move up to Lunaria to live among the magically blessed, or magicals.

Down here, we like to call Lunaria the “dreamland”; every person living there is blessed with magic, wealth, and happiness.

I mean, I would be happy too if I had the ability to wield magic and got to live on a floating rock in the sky.

I’m not sure what’s in the air up there, but I wish we could breathe that air down here too.

Stories have been passed down through the generations of the wonders of Lunaria.

Some say the colors are brighter, smells are stronger, flavors more potent.

Others say there’s no crime or poverty, and everyone is friendly.

Rumors spread through the orphanage that even their fashion and looks greatly differ from ours and contain colors that aren’t even visible in Fallout.

The kicker is, no one really knows the truth, since no one from Fallout is allowed to visit or live there unless they win the Reaper Crucible. Magic is the key to a better life that most here will never get the opportunity to obtain. Real buzz kill, I know.

I have never been one to hang on impossible dreams of a better life for myself in hopes of living there one day.

All I need is Theo, and I’m a happy girl—or needed I guess.

Now, the only thing that matters is entering and winning the Crucible to get my lucky ticket up to Lunaria.

They won’t know what’s coming for them until it’s too late.

The one thing we do know about Lunaria is its shitty Vanquishers and their bonded Necroshrieks that have terrorized Fallout for far too many years. Vanquishers can command their bonded Necroshriek through mind control, and they have fun doing it.

Most Vanquishers live and patrol up in Lunaria to ensure peace.

A select few live in Fallout to Guard the Empress, who lives part time below with us.

She governs our land and her word is law.

I guess when you’re the only person who possesses magic amongst a bunch of nobodies, it’s hard to be overthrown.

Yuck.

Thinking back to the day the rogue Necroshriek terrorized our village and took Theo from me gives me the shakes.

Necroshrieks are even scarier and uglier than they sound, which is saying something.

They feed off human souls and can scent fear from miles away.

They thrive off it. Legend says their piercing screeches are the combined screams of every soul they have devoured, now trapped within them.

Their giant, black, batlike skeletal wings make them impossible to out run.

They can melt a person, bones and all, within seconds with the black acidic clouds they spew from their vicious beaks.

Their hollowed out eye sockets will haunt my nightmares for the rest of eternity.

I can still smell its rotting flesh like it’s right in front of me.

It’s safe to say I am no longer a fan of birds in any form, especially giant, black, rotting ones that literally look like death on wings.

Don’t even get me started on their nasty horns.

Double yuck.

Tomorrow, each sector’s representative from Fallout’s council will host the drawing ceremony by picking two names out of the sector’s participant bowl, and then publicly announce the lucky winners.

Once your name is pulled, there is no getting out of it.

So, you better be more than sure you know what you’re signing up for.

Two sundowns later, Vanquishers will come to collect the ten “lucky” contestants to commence the annual Reaper Crucible.

I send a prayer to the Empress that my name is chosen tomorrow and hopefully chosen only once.

That would be an ugly situation to deal with and talk my way out of.

I’ll worry about that if the time comes, but for now, it’s time to sneak back home and get some much needed rest before tomorrow’s adventures.

Looking down at the bowl one last time, I am reminded exactly why I’m doing this.

“Love you now and in every life to follow, Theo,” I whisper.