Evening Creek Press

Episode 1: Seizing Glory

Devver took one look at Orren's eyes, and cursed.

With only his word that it was justified, confronting the traitor before would have been pointless. Alerting the king to his suspicions would have been the safer move--and would have done nothing for his stagnant reputation. Of course, there had been a third option: he could have joined him.

Two days ago, whispering feverishly, stabbing the rocky soil, Orren had pleaded for an ally. "You have every right to hate the king. This isn't supposed to be your life."

To his discredit, Devver had listened, and done nothing. Committed to death, and too deeply entrenched in his own grief, he had heard little and cared less. It would have been easier if he did hate the king--if he could blame Delarnen for his own failures. If he could blame anyone but himself. He'd barely looked up when Orren shoved him and stalked away.

Now, under his breath, in disbelief, Devver cursed again. The dead eyes in that familiar face said Orren was about to give him the greatest opportunity of his miserable life. He was about to kill the king.