Divine by Blood

Chapter 6 (#uc60b3a38-db55-5b63-9b16-359a008cd9a3)

Chapter 7 (#ua6f7611f-e23d-5d62-906b-37e885062ec6)

Chapter 8 (#ue70a3c99-18bb-5208-92e9-1088d79bfde7)

Chapter 9 (#ud5934805-2bf6-5a2a-a1a2-146502ce43a7)

Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)

Part III (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 17 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 18 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 19 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 20 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 21 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 22 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 23 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 24 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 25 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 26 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 27 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 28 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 29 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 30 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 31 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 32 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 33 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 34 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 35 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 36 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 37 (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue I (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue II (#litres_trial_promo)

Preview (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

PROLOGUE

She wasn’t dead.

She wasn’t alive, either.

In truth, she might have passed countless years simply dwelling in the outlands of existence. Not dying—not living. Just being. If it hadn’t been for the life that stirred within her womb, and the anger that stirred within her breast. Before she remembered who she was, she remembered that she had been betrayed.

Yes, anger is good…

The voice in her mind was not her own, but it felt familiar, and she grasped it as she sought to find herself again. Who was she? Where was she? How had this happened to her?

She opened her eyes. Blackness surrounded her. Blackness and weight, as if she had been submerged in a warm pool. For a moment panic overwhelmed her. If she was underwater how could she breathe? Surley she must be dead. Dead and entombed an eternity for crimes she couldn’t remember committing.

Then the child within her fluttered again.

The dead did not bring forth life.

She commanded her panic to recede, and it obeyed. Panic never helped. Cold, logical thought. Meticulous planning and precise execution of those plans. That was the way to triumph. That was the way she had always triumphed.

Until now.

But she had been betrayed. By whom? Her anger built and she fed it, channeling her frustration and fear.

Yes…allow anger to purify you…