King of Immortal Tithe (Darkmourn Universe #2) Read Online Ben Alderson

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Darkmourn Universe Series by Ben Alderson

Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 109030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)

From the bestselling author Ben Alderson comes a fantastical and spicy reimagining of the Hades and Persephone tale. King of Immortal Tithe is a standalone in the Darkmourn Universe.

Human. Arlo Grey will do anything to fend off the sickness that longs to destroy him. To uphold the promise he made to his parents, ensuring the protection of his sister from the world and its dangers. Especially if the dangers come in the form of elves from a realm beyond that of the human world.
Elf. Faenir Evelina is scorned for the murder of his family. Forced by the bitter Queen to partake in the Choosing, he discovers a single person who can resist the deadly grace of his touch.
It has been many years since the vampiric disease spread wildly across Darkmourn, making humans a rarity. And protection from the undead comes at a cost, one that Arlo is forced to pay when he is stolen by the Prince of Death.
Arlo finds himself tangled in a web of secrecy, family politics and unbridled magic when he comes face to face with the impending doom… his truth.

*King of Immortal Tithe is a complete, M/M *stand-alone novel*, inspired by Hades x Persephone… but if Hades fell in love with Persephone’s brother instead.



I smiled in the face of death, welcoming it like an old friend.

My reflection was etched into the wide, moon-round eyes of the vampire pinned beneath me. Even in the lightless cavern, my smirk was visible.

But to a vampire, I was no friend. Far from it, because friends rarely plunged stakes into each other’s chests and watched the insignificant life they had left drain away into nothingness.

Killing a vampire was easier than one would have imagined. It involved a good deal of stealth, for the fuckers were known for having a keener ear than an owl. There was also a healthy helping of fearlessness required. Vampires were monsters of nightmares, except no longer figments of imagination but real. As real as me and the stake I had gripped hard in my hand.

I no longer feared them. I couldn’t. Being scared was not an option. But I could still recognise the danger they possessed. There were hordes of vampires. Thousands. The figure likely higher than I could ever imagine, which made them far more deadly than I. I couldn’t pull the true number out of my ass to tell it even if I wished.

The corpse beneath me would have been young when he was turned. Its creaseless skin and innocent eyes revealed as much. His harsh face was crowned by sun-kissed locks of yellow and gold, long enough to fall around his skull like the petals of a picked flower.

I usually followed a rule I’d set for myself, as strict as a religion. Don’t kill the young ones. The discomfort which followed once I buried wood in their heart was too much to bear at times.

However, today was an exception.

I had slipped from Tithe later than I would have liked. It was easier to clamber out of the town during the shift of the wall’s guards around early dawn. The Watchers, as they were aptly named because it was all they ever seemed to do, were tired by the time they were swapped out, which meant they grew lazy—lazier than normal at least. Not that I complained. For years I had been completing this dance of leaving town before dawn and returning all before the break of the morning fast.

All day I had searched for the undead, seeking desperately through the ruins of long-forgotten buildings overgrown foliage had claimed. Usually they were easier to find, but it seemed today every single vampire had fled the world entirely.

If only.

Darkmourn, a city lost to death and time, nestled in the shadow of Castle Dread, was a major nest for the creatures. Today, the old town was utterly dry of the bounty I required.

When the sun ruled the skies, the creatures would flee to the darkest corners of the world. Light, much like my trusted stake, was deadly to the undead.

The more time slipped by, the harsher my desperation grew. Then I heard the familiar weeping of the creature, which finally led me to my prey.

The vampire was cowering in the cellar of an old bakery in Darkmourn. Years ago, this building would have been filled with the luscious smells of fresh bread and the tickling scents of sweet delights. Now it was a cavernous place, home to rats the size of cats and shadowed corners hiding other unseen horrors.

Fuck, I hate rats.

The vampire was whimpering in the dark belly of the bakery, its light voice enough to slice the skin of anyone without a stomach forged of iron. I knew it had been a child the moment I caught the dulcet tones lifting from the shadows of the cellar.