Bride of the Emperor (The Prophecy of Sisters Book 4) by Hayley Faiman (urban books to read .TXT) 📕

anymore. I finally fall asleep and welcome the darkness that surrounds me, hoping that I will stay this way for a lifetime.

What feels like only seconds after closing my eyes and finally succumbing to the pain enough to fall asleep, a brightness enters the room and I open my eyes. Lifting my hand from my stomach, I shield my eyes as the brightness takes over and then dims.

There standing in front of me is a man and a woman. They are glowing a golden hue all around their bodies. I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. The pain is still too great to form a complete sentence.

“We are Amare and Odium,” the woman explains.

She is tall and curvy with long curly brown hair and golden eyes. She is dressed much like I am in a long gown with golden ropes and a crown. She’s beautiful, and when she smiles down at me, I can feel the love and kindness that pours from her.

“I am the Goddess of Love,” she whispers. “We are here to help you.”

“The venefica have conspired against the gods, I am here for them.” the man announces. “I am Odium, the God of Hate.”

He is also very handsome, dare I say beautiful even. He has blond hair, the same golden eyes as Amare, and he is simply breathtaking. It is hard to look at him, he is so pretty.

“How?” I whimper.

“She cannot withstand this, she must be taken,” Amare announces.

“Tiberius,” I choke out.

Amare sinks down in front of me. She reaches out and touches my forehead with her cool hand. “He will be looked after, chosen one.”

Then before I can say a word, everything starts to fade away in front of me, including Amare and Odium. I hear Odium’s voice in the far distance.

“We will come for you when it is safe again. Drucilla.”

Then there is nothing, absolutely nothing. Darkness consumes me yet again.

TIBERIUS

As a group, we make our way around the base of the mountain in an attempt to find the entrance or at least a way that we can try to climb. Once we have walked the entire perimeter, we all stop and gather, looking at one another, all of us unsure of what to do next.

Brutus jerks his chin then walks toward me and past me. I follow behind him, leaving the group to speak privately to my cousin.

“Can you call to her, have her transport you?” he asks.

“The venefica?” I ask, unbelieving that he is asking this of me.

Brutus nods his head a few times. “Your empress will forgive you of this once she knows the truth of it. But she cannot forgive you if you cannot get to her, to save her.”

Just as he finishes his words, there is a screech that fills the air, it is so loud that we are all forced to cover our ears, then the sky darkens immediately. Brutus and I both snap our neck backward to look up into the darkened sky.

“The gods,” he breathes.

Before we can say anything else, there is a flash of light, then me and my men are all transported. The landscape around us slowly disappears and we reappear in a cave-like room, with three women in front of us, crouched and their teeth bared.

“What in the gods,” Brutus whispers.

“We need your help, mighty Tiberius,” a smooth voice breathes.

Looking to the side, I almost collapse to my knees at the sight of who can only be Amare, the Goddess of Love.

“My wife is stunning, but we need all of your help,” a booming voice barks.

Turning to the other side, the God of Hate, Odium, stands before me. “Where is Drucilla,” I whisper as fear slices through me.

“She is safe,” Amare states. I whip my head around, my eyes finding hers. “You are not in pain?” she asks, tilting her head to the side.

“I am not,” I announce.

She doesn’t speak, but worry clearly crosses her features as she lifts her head up, her eyes widening as she looks at Odium. She nods her head once, licking her lips, then tips her chin down and looks in my direction again.

“We will not allow this to be too late, we will try to fix it, Tiberius. Now, fight with us.”

No other words are spoken. Almost instantly, the witches send sparks of purple lights in our direction. Lifting my shield, I shout to my brothers to do the same, to deflect their magic. We do and the purple lights are shot back at the witches.

The one that laid with me, that forced my body to take hers, she calls out to me. “Tiberius,” she coos. “Your child grows inside of me, do not do this to the mother of your child.”

I hesitate. My torso jerks forward, I try to fight it, but the pull is strong. So strong. “Fight, Tiberius. Fight for your empress,” Amare calls out.

I try.

I try so hard to fight for my empress for Amare, for my country and people, for my men and my family. I try. My body wears quickly, far too quickly and I start to crumble. My knees give out, crashing down to the stone floor after what feels like hours of deflecting the purple sparks.

“You will not win,” the venefica cry. “You will never win against us, no matter how much power you bring from above. We have more, from below.”

There is heavy panting from each side of me and I look to see my men are in the same position as I am, Amare and Odium are not faring much better. Amare looks over to me and I shift my gaze from her, defeat clearly on the horizon.

“If I willingly give myself to you, will you save my men from any more harm?” I call out.

The sparks stop. Silence takes over the room, all except the gasp of Amare. I ignore the surprise, the obvious reluctance at hearing my words. Refusing to look at her, unable to handle disappointment from a goddess, I