PREVIEW

... 'Western Civilisation,' long before the greatness of Greece and Rome.

-John Henrik Clarke

After that fateful day, Hypnos and Hera spent almost all of their time together. The Titanomachy had temporarily abated, providing the world with a much-needed reprieve. Titans and Gods appeared to have reached an unspoken tactic agreement, retreating and preparing for the final battle that would decide the fate of their pantheon.

Meanwhile, Hypnos had also assumed command of their ...

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*****

He stalked towards her, chin low so the shadow cast by his hard jaw cut across the thick fur collar of his vest. His hair had fallen over his eyes in the scuffle, so he peered at her through it like a lion in the grass. With each step, his graceful, rolling gait reminded her of a predator stalking its prey. Despite the forest floor littered in twigs and leaves, he didn’t make a sound.

“Wh-who are you?” Elia stammered, backing away, her hands up. He met her step for step until she came up hard against the tree behind her—and didn’t stop until he loomed over her, so broad his shoulders and chest made a wall in front of her. She could feel the heat rising off his skin in the cool, night air.

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“Elia,” she breathed.

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Elia swallowed as he leaned in until the scruff on his jaw rasped her cheek. “I am the King,” he said, “And you will be my mate.”

The forest behind him erupted.