The Dread Descendant (The Dread Descendant, #1)

by Lauren Cate Leake

Filii Magicae Numquam Soli.

“In a desperate hour, your Prince of Darkness will return. Through a broken line of Magic, into unsuspecting veins. His life will call like to like in those where Magic blood remains. The Descendant of Dread will conquer the plague of the Promised Land, with a single finger, not a sword. Rejoice, child of golden blood, freedom shall be yours. On backs and broken necks will balance be restored.”

“I’m at this table tonight because I have performed at an Elite level for years, in multiple subjects. And recently, A Supreme level. I score at the top of the school consistently and am incredibly dedicated to the execution of Magic beyond what we know of its limitations. I’m a Paragon, incredibly well organized and studious, and have written hundreds of unassigned papers over my educational time here at Vaukore simply because I enjoy learning and exploring Magic. I am the youngest witch in history to create a memory charm and, undoubtedly, one of the youngest to create any type of spell, let alone one that quite literally bends the mind. I am the only witch on record in the history of Magic with the ability to jump between minds and I would bet my father’s entire fortune you don’t even come close to that achievement.”

“And for the record, I am not ‘just a pureblood,’ Grisham. I’m a fucking Sacred Seventeen. And you’ll do well to remember it.”

“Magic calls to magic. Darkness calls to darkness. Blood calls to blood.”

“Who the fuck did that to you?”

Varför bryr han sig? Läser jag in för mycket i detta?

“I will end each and every one of them that tries to take what is mine.” “The Dread Lands?” She asked as his hand pulled out from between her stomach and her pants. A darkness formed on Mal’s face. “You.” His eyes bore into hers with a lethal rage so calm it should have been unsettling. “You are mine.”

“Let me make something clear, Primrose Rosethorn. If you ever speak of my second again in such a vulgar and disrespectful way I will ensure your right to The Dread Lands is denied. And anyone with your blood as well. Save for Abraxas, who luckily did not inherit your lack of poise. I will see to it personally that you are abandoned here of Earth, with not a scrap of clothing to your name.”

“I will gladly die a hundred deaths if it is he who breathes life back into me.”