By Rebecca Levene
Born in tragedy and raised in poverty, Krishanjit by no means aspired to be something more than what he used to be: a humble goatherd, tending his flock at the slopes of his remoted mountain domestic. yet Krish has discovered that he's the son of the king of Ashanesland - and the moon god reborn. Now, by using his allies, Krish is set to struggle his murderous father and grab keep an eye on of Ashanesland. yet Dae Hyo, Eric and Olufemi, are dangerously unreliable and hiding secrets and techniques in their personal. To take Ashanesland, Krish needs to shuttle to the forbidden replicate city and liberate the secrets and techniques of its strong magic. however the fee of his victory might be a lot more than the results of his defeat...For, deep within the far-off Moon wooded area lives a woman known as Cwen - a disciple of the god identified basically because the Hunter. She believes that Krish represents all that's evil on this planet. and he or she has made it her life's project to hunt Krish and spoil all who struggle by means of his side.
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Extra resources for The Hunter's Kind (Hollow Gods, Book 2)
I was surprised to see you in the Hall, Herb. It has been half a season. " Had it been so short a time? It seemed much longer to Herb. A lifetime since they had been this close. Physically, yes, but emotionally he suspected they were as far apart as ever. If he should reach for her now, would she intertwine or pull back? Did absence make the heart grow fonder? Or only wiser? Herb found he was too much the coward to test it. Without moving he sensed the invisible barrier that was still there, holding him at arm's length.
He hedged. "Thank you, Holly. " He hoped! "Me? Oh, no! I could go on like this all day! " Herb's hopes of an honorable out wilted in the hot afternoon sun. He sighed audibly. This was Holly's signal to wheedle. She put her arms around his neck, heedless of the fine view of her bust this afforded Herb. Herb was not heedless. He heeded for all he was worth. "Please Herbie," she said with the sweet pout her lips formed with such expertise. Her fresh breath tickled his ear, and his firm resolve melted down to a watery puddle that seemed to form in his knees.
He opened his leaves in acceptance as the congregation mimicked the gesture, repeating the chant in unison. The Elder raised the cup and poured the clear cool liquid over the tender leaves of the female. " he began. " The female quivered with emotion, her blossoms losing a few soft petals. She was in full bloom, as was the proper state for the ceremony. The congregation deposited their cups over their foliage in like manner as all chanted away. Herb hoped no one had seen him as he quaffed his down instead.