About In A Wolf's Eyes
Raine is a slave, a gladiator. Known as the Bloody Wolf, he is the champion of all champions in the Empire of Khalid. Ly’Tana is a warrior princess of Kel’Halla and is set to wed the heir to Khalid’s throne, Crown Prince Broughton. When Raine and his new wizard pal, Rygel, accidentally murder the High King, they set in motion events rapidly spiraling out of control. Ly’Tana discovers the true, and violent, nature of her betrothed, a man nicknamed Prince Brutal for his vicious nature, and escapes her marriage.
But Brutal will stop at nothing to have her for his wife. To entice his runaway bride into a trap, he brings down and captures her griffin bodyguard, Bar. Ly’Tana vows to have Bar back or die trying. She seeks the help of Raine and Rygel, and frees Bar from Brutal’s clutches. Yet, in doing so, Raine and Ly’Tana are forced to flee for their lives, hunted by Brutal’s secretive assassins.
Can they escape the hunters and their silent, evil hounds? Can Ly’Tana evade Brutal’s hungry need to marry her and seize her beloved country? Can Raine keep Ly’Tana alive and still save himself from capture and torture? Can they stop themselves from falling in love?
Thus begins the first novel of The Saga of the Black Wolf series.
About A Katie Rose
A. Katie Rose is a Colorado native, and earned her Bachelor of Arts degree in History from Western State College in Gunnison, Colorado. She enjoys riding, teaching and learning from horses, likes camping, reading novels, watching movies and, of course, lives to write fantasy books. She currently works as a photographer in San Antonio, Texas, and is a slave to her six cats and four horses. “In a Wolf’s Eyes” is her first novel.
“This is no place for you, Ly’Tana.” His eyes grave, he sipped at his wine chalice. “You could fall prey to his viciousness. Peace isn’t worth having if Kel’Halla loses you.”
Affronted that Kel’Ratan would sneak behind my back, I stiffened. “I can take care of myself.” “On any battlefield or tavern brawl, I agree. Against a madman on the Khalid throne? Ly’Tana, we have kept the Federates out of Kel’Halla for thirty years. We will keep fighting them.”
“I have no choice, as you very well know,” I snapped. “Not since Father issued that bloody decree.”
Kel’Ratan blew out a gust of breath, a deep sigh that fluttered his mustache. “The Crown Prince is the only heir that meets his criteria,” he said.
“What about the King of Arcadia’s heir?”
He smiled gently. “Girl, do you really want to marry a six-year old?”
I snorted. “A six-year old would be hard pressed to murder me.”
The crowd parted enough for me to study Prince Broughton as he chatted with his circle of butt-kissing cronies. Brown-haired and brown-eyed with a thin wispy beard, he looked innocuous and clerkly. Dressed in a gold tunic trimmed in scarlet, with a light cloak of the same gold trimmed cloth that draped him to his knees, he looked not at all the savage man who earned the nickname of Brutal. Not much taller than I, he weighed probably less, for he was thin almost to the point of emaciation. Tonight, a prince’s circlet crowned his head, and if the dagger he needed to cut his meat was twice as long as any other, who would protest?
His eyes caught mine from across the hall and he smiled, raising his cup in a salute. I smiled and offered a slight, though respectful, curtsey, observing the spark of madness deep within his eyes even from that distance. Kel’Ratan was right, I thought. There must be other avenues to peace between our nations. How would my death benefit my homeland and my father if I died at the hands of my own husband?
Drinking the last of the fruity wine in my chalice, I licked the last drop off my lip. I cast about for a servant or a slave for a refill, but saw none nearby. Only the aristocratic merry makers and the still circulating musicians strolled within my immediate vicinity.
“Here,” Kel’Ratan said, taking the light cup from me. “I see a slave over there.” He jerked his chin toward the cluster of royal brothers. “I’ll fetch you another.”
“My thanks,” I replied, a little surprised at his courtesy.
He eyed me with some humor, his mustache bristling. “I know how badly you need your drink, young lush.”
“Bloody boor,” I grumbled, but the teasing blue twinkle in his eye forced a laugh from me.
Khalidian aristocrats parted the way for him, melting out of his path, as though fearing he might turn on them. They eyed him sidelong, as though he were not royalty in his own right, but a rapid and vicious cur. I knew these people called us ‘barbarians’, and feared us more than a little. To see them behave in such a fashion in a civilized setting as the great hall beneath the noses of High King Lionel and his Queen Iyumi burned me more than a little. I turned away to keep myself from screaming invectives at them.
Without warning, a nobleman pushed rudely past me, striking me hard with his shoulder. From the tail of my eye, I saw grey silk trimmed in silver. I might have kept my balance and my royal dignity had I been wearing anything but the simple dress. In the wild attempt to keep to my feet, I stepped on the hem of my gown. If I fell, sprawling in a most undignified fashion, I would be humiliated before the entire court. If I kept my feet, and remained stoically upright, it meant tearing the flimsy dress from my shoulders, leaving me utterly naked, and shamed in the eyes of the High King and Queen. It appeared Lord Colvin would have his petty revenge, by one method or another.
Starting to fall, I felt my arm gripped tight above the elbow, blissfully saving me from the disparaging choice of either a disgraceful headlong tumble or total nudity.
The hand, strong but gentle, steadied me until I gained my feet and my wits about me. I turned to thank my benefactor, words already in my throat – until I looked up into the most incredible eyes I have ever seen.
My words died stillborn. Like the sun on ice, the eyes were a pale, an almost translucent grey. Long lashes any woman would murder to obtain framed those light irises ringed eerily in black. His black pupils looked as though they peered through a hangman’s noose.
Once, long ago, I saw a shark pulled out of the surf by a fisherman, its eyes black, wide and staring, lifeless and yet alive, predatory and chilling. Like that shark, these eyes lacked anything that resembled human consciousness or emotion. I, a warrior from birth, have stared into death’s eyes without flinching, have killed men who would have killed me, led men into battle with a warcry on my lips. Never before have I seen eyes as cold-blooded as these eyes. I caught my breath against the icy ruthlessness in them. Killer’s eyes, flat and inhuman. Mesmerized, I looked long into those merciless eyes, feeling the chill of fear creep down my spine.
Suddenly the iciness in them vanished. Warmth and humor appeared as if by sorcery. None of his facial muscles flexed, his lips failed to smile, his cheeks remained rock hard and smooth. Yet, curiously, kindness and sympathy gleamed from those sinister eyes as though he had smiled broadly. Then he winked. The lightning fast wink of a man who looked at a woman and liked what he saw.
I gaped. He had winked. He dared to wink at Her Royal Exalted Highness, Princess Ly’Tana, only child of King Gareth, and heir to the throne of mighty Kel’Halla. He winked at me as though I were any tavern slut. I drew myself up to vent my feminine fury into his smiling eyes -
“Move on, Wolf,” said someone behind him.
The chill returned to his eyes like a veil hiding the sun and he turned away. Only then did I see the leather collar studded with jewels around his neck.
Kindle Fire HD International GiveawayTo be in with a chance of winning a Kindle Fire HD, everyone who purchases either In A Wolf's Eyes and/or To Catch A Wolf and email proof of purchase to firstname.lastname@example.org will be placed into the draw. Purchase one and get one entry, purchase both books and get three entries.
In A Wolf's Eyes
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