Prologue

Before you read:

The Midnight King is a reimagining of several kidnapping fairytales. It is a narrative filled with intense male domination, violence, and a deliberately passive female character. As a result, some content in this book may be triggering for certain readers.

For any readers seeking a warrior type, save yourself character, this is not the tale for you. But for those who crave a different kind of heroine, one who finds liberation in surrender and obedience, shut your mouth and be a good girl. There’s no turning back from The Lands Once Lost.

REIYNA

The Midnight King arrives with the shadows of the night. We were warned of his coming–warned that the ruler of the Lands Once Lost would arrive in incomprehensible fright.

We sense him before he arrives.

A shiver crawls down my spine, a silent herald of his presence. Cool, calming shadows, drench the crumbling walls of my mother's white castle in dark, wicked delight. I’ve trained my entire life to know that he revels in this–in terrorizing his victims before the kill. That the Midnight King feels no mercy, and bathes his hands in blood.

But so do I.

My sisters won’t stop screaming, Remi, Rose--not even the eldest, Rebecca. Remi, the youngest, is the only one who stands apart. Barely eighteen, her pale blue eyes are as wide as the full moon above. She and Rose are weak, untrained, and free. They are untainted by the curse that rules over Rebecca and I.

Every hundred years the Solis Family is to offer the Lost Lands their eldest daughter. For what reason, we do not know. Not a member of our human village has known for centuries why he comes, why he takes, nor why the bodies of our beloved eldest never return.

But this year we are fighting back.

The curse will die with our action tonight.

The glittering walls of my decaying home stand as foolish sentinels in the magnificence of his power. Beyond the castle doors, we hear him cut through dozens of guards sworn to protect us–to protect Rebecca–in swift, calm, shadows, dark as the summer night.

The guards' desperate cries are cut short, their lives extinguished before they can draw breath to defend themselves. They are killed before they can run. Killed before they can fight.

Remi’s cries turn to chokes. Perhaps we should have heeded our little sister’s plea to remain in their towers tonight. But the Midnight King demands every Solis daughter present, even the helpless ones.

Rebecca clings to me, her grip drawing blood from my white dress. "Promise me, Reiyna," her voice barely audible amidst the chaos, "promise me you'll fight to escape."

Strategize. Fight. Escape.

Such words have been ingrained in me since the age of five. My mission is clear: deceive the Midnight King at all costs, convince him that I am the firstborn–the key to ending his people's suffering. Then strike when the time is right.

I am going to kill or be killed tonight.

Rebecca’s grip on my arm tightens, drawing me back to the present. I rove over her silent plea for salvation, the fear in her bright blue eyes which in a different life may have mirrored mine. But I've been raised to endure. Fear is a feeling I can no longer find.

My mother's nod is a silent command, a recognition of my fate as her chosen assassin, her sacrificial lamb. From the moment she carried me in her womb, I was destined to be the savior. The assassin.

I can almost hear the words on her tongue from the sidelines of my training. “The sacrifice of one will save the many,” she would remind me as I fought, over and over again until my knuckles bloodied, “Family is the only thing worth sacrificing for.”

Family.

Would a true family raise you to die?

My gaze sweeps over my trembling sisters, at Remi’s doe-like, terrified eyes. It’s not her fault she’s underprepared for his power–the way he can manipulate terror to the point where it feels like glass spiders cut against your spine. It’s not her fault that she and Rose have never seen violence, never even held a knife.

I’m just grateful that they can feel something–even if it’s obnoxious terror. I’m a good warrior–and I will die with my honor– but I think it’s the greatest tragedy of my life, to have been living all this time but not alive.

My Second in Command nods to me, just a few minutes now.

Memories of the information I received from our spies flooded my mind: The Six High Lords and their ruling King grow impatient. They're plotting to kill us all if they can't find what they seek. Yet the Oracle decreed a prophet from non-Firstborn blood. Another daughter of the Solis Kingdom will rise.

It’s an effort to nod to Rebecca, to turn back to the guards under my command who know they are going to die.

My voice is more hoarse than my last battle, my grip on my swords twice as tight. "I will be the last to fall for our name."

Not quite a promise, not yet a lie.

The sounds of the last of guards dying fill the hall, and I taste in the late summer air the iron tang of blood. He’s here. I will go with him willingly, deceive him, trick him, and fight when the time's right.

But still, the question lingers. Would a true family raise you just to die?

The way Remi shrieks as the throne room doors explode erases the question from my mind. By Fate's Design, I was born for this, born to fight for my family. And whether or not I am what the Midnight Prince seeks, I will die for my sisters. I will meet this monster which hurts my family head on.

Darkness swells, and I swear, even the pearl light of the moon runs and hides. Guards I’ve known all my life, War Generals who have seen terrors beyond my imagination, flee before the predator in terror like mice.

I’d deem them cowards, gutless, if it weren’t for the Midnight King’s manipulation of my mind. Even twenty-four years of training isn’t enough to resist his might.

Everyone bows except my mother and I. One of my little sisters has wet herself, Rose most likely–but I lift my chin to the apex of the sky.

“High Lord,” my mother pulls from the side of my false throne in a swirl of vivid blue. The gold embroidery of her dress is just as faded as our House Crest banners hanging in the rich night sky. Our Kingdom is also dwindling. There are two sides to this fight.

“Allow me to introduce my eldest daughter, Rebecca–”

His footsteps echo before my mother can finish, headed directly towards me. He will take Rebecca, and tonight * I am Rebecca*. I bear the duty of both the first and second child.

The smirk on this male’s lips could end wars. Start them, too.

Evil radiates from him in every form. His charm is clear–dark blonde hair, a sharp jawline, striking blue eyes. A beautiful man to lure beautiful, beautiful prey. The mask of a sociopath's mind.

I will go with him, I will plot. I will fight.

He will not harm my sisters.

Those violent eyes shift from me to my mother, then settle on my sisters behind my shoulder. Cold, dark terror settles in my gut. I know, just the same as my mother knows, that we have failed at our deception.

My swords pull as he advances, and I settle into a fighting stance between him and Rebecca. He doesn’t need to say it, the Midnight Prince is not convinced.

“I invoke the right to challenge you,” I command, swinging one sword left, then right. The Midnight King reveals no emotion at my action, doesn’t even bat an eye, “You will take her over my dead body.”

“Reiyna—I’ll go,” Rebecca attempts to push past my arms, I cut her accidentally as I push her away from him.

My lips curl and I speak with too much force, my teeth gritting as I talk. I was raised to complete one thing only–save Rebecca’s life. “I said over my dead and twisted life.”

The man of mountain and myth only grants me a bored expression–one which looks like he has better places to be.

Shadows swirl around him like dark ink, marring our castle of gold and white, then a ripple of power slams into my chest, and through my mind, casting me weak and defenseless.

His voice is ice and wind. I can’t make out his words, but faster than I can run, faster than I can breathe, the Midnight King lurches not for me, not for the eldest–but for the girl I never thought of any importance.

In a flash of sun and shadow, a disappearance of ash and ink, the Midnight King steals away my sister.

And I think I die on the sun-warmed stone of my mother's castle–bleeding out from my torn-out heart. He did not take the sister I was sworn to protect. He did not take Rebecca.

So I smile at the rising dawn, a mixture of exhaustion and gratitude flooding my senses. I thank the Midnight King for letting me leave this Warrior’s life with honor. With the final gift of what I’ve never had in my life.

I leave this earth *alive.