The Troll Queen s Bride full novel download

“The Dead travel fast, but Death travels faster.”

Prologue:

This is what I remember:

He stands by the howling void. Chalk white cliffs plummet downwards to the raging sea. The blue-blackness froths beneath him. Wind screams. It is absolute zero.

Shadows fall like dolls into the abyss. There are no cries of pain. Merely silence.

The Legion stands before him. Michael brandishes his flaming sword. His face is raw with suffering.

“Don’t do this, brother,” he pleas.

His cry falls on deaf ears. It is a corpse that stands before him. Razor thin. Pale as winter snow. He towers over the archangel, still as the grip of death.

He opens his hollow eyes. All Heaven holds its breath. The void yawns, grating its jowls. Its master smiles wretchedly. His flesh cracks like ice as he speaks:

“Either way, I win.” His voice is like bitter wind.

The pull of the Pit wraps around the Host like a vise. The weakest crumple like smashed mica. Their shards plummet into the abyss.

Michael’s bones shake. His sorrow turns to wrath. He roars, then delivers the killing blow. The serpent is crushed beneath him.

The corpse laughs as the sword pierces him. “Come with me, my brother,” he whispers. He takes him by the heel. Lightning strikes fire as they embrace. Michael surrenders himself to his adversary. Finally, the Host is freed.

The brightest stars blaze into the darkness. The void is sealed shut. They leave a graveyard of angels behind them.

Time begins.

Death is born.

“You should run, human girl.”

Chapter 1: Disposable Teens

I woke in a sweat again, screeching. Running my hands through my hair, I bolted upwards, struggling for breath. The same dream again, probably spurred on by the chili corn dog of questionable origins the cafeteria had served up for dinner. “Holy frappacino,” I whispered as a slamming headache hit me. My stomach rolled, whether from fear or indigestion, I couldn't tell.

My roommate flipped on the lights, groaning: “Again, Fianna?” She tossed her pillow at me, eyes bruised like a racoon's.

I clutched it to my chest and collapsed. “Yeah,” I sighed. “I'm so, so sorry.” I glanced at the alarm: 3:00 AM. Just the latest in a string of witching hours I'd awakened to in the past month. Perhaps it was the darkness of winter that drew out the strange visions each year. The unyielding cold that dug into one's marrow weighed heavily on us all, stirring upsets that lay buried in the subconscious.

“Quinn? Quinlan?” I asked, tossing the pillow back at her. She caught it drearily.

“What?” She lounged on her bed, eyes dead. “Was it them again? The twins?”

“Yeah. I think the caf's food was laced with something. Roofies. Crack...”