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The Belador series is an ongoing story line,
so you may want to read the books in order:
Belador urban fantasy Series
Book 1: Blood Trinity
Book 2: Alterant
Book 3: The Curse
Book 4: Rise Of The Gryphon
Book 5: Demon Storm
Book 6: Witchlock
Book 7: Rogue Belador
Book 8: Dragon King Of Treoir
Book 9: Belador Cosaint
Tristan's Escape (novella)
DRAGON KING OF TREOIR: Belador Book 8
The Treoir dragon holds the fate of the Beladors in one hand ... and his own in the other.
The Beladors finally have a true leader in Daegan, their new dragon king, but life is far from secure now that they've inherited his enemies. As their Maistir, Vladimir Quinn played a risky role in freeing the dragon from the lair of their enemy, the Medb. Quinn now faces a heavy price for his part. The Medb queen is out for blood. Vigilante killings erupt among Atlanta's secret preternatural community and all fingers point to the Beladors.
The dragon king has his first real test as a ruler when he has to choose between protecting his people and entering a hostile realm full of deities capable of killing a dragon. But as a two-thousand-year-old warrior, Daegan has never shied away from any battle. Quinn, Evalle, Storm and friends race to discover who is trying to turn the entire VIPER coalition against the Beladors before war breaks out. With the clock also ticking down for Quinn, who has been ordered to hand over Kizira's body to the Medb queen, Daegan reveals an even greater reason the Beladors have to prevent the queen from any chance to use necromancy on that body than secrets Quinn protects.
Freedom is never free. Not when the powerful gods and goddesses poised to decide Quinn's fate see an opportunity to also destroy a threat to their existence - the last dragon shifter.
"When it comes to urban fantasy stories, Dianna Love is a master." ~~A. Richards, Always Reviewing
Table of Contents
Note from Dianna
More Belador Novels by Dianna Love
More Books by Dianna Love
A word from Dianna
This book is for readers who share the love of urban fantasy with me. Thank you for joining my world of Beladors.
The underworld realm of Anwynn
Two thousand years of paying for one mistake.
Two thousand years of pain, every minute of every day.
Lorwerth cursed his thirty-one-year-old body that would not age and could be healed so easily. He begged for death with each breath. Today would be different.
I should be leading a powerful army against my enemies, but instead ...
"The Koovl!" Stomp.
"The Koovl!" Stomp.
All at once, his world spun back into focus. He lost his grip on that place in his mind where he traveled to escape reality.
A loud crack from the forty-foot whip rent the air above his head. Fire danced along the strands, throwing shards of sparkling light across this cavernous den of misery.
None of it touched him.
Prisoners cheered on Y Cwfl, The Koovl.
Lorwerth's naked backside and legs had been flayed to pieces, left raw and burning. He tensed, waiting for that next hit, but the bastard flogging him, Y Cwfl, toyed with each prisoner, reaching for emotional abuse as much as physical.
Lorwerth bit down hard, focusing only on the end.
It would come today.
Prisoners of Anwynn shouted their favorite chant, calling Y Cwfl's name and stomping.
Death would not come. No blessing of eternal sleep for the damned. Not in Anwynn, land of the dead, ruled by the Celtic god Arawn.
Pain fed Arawn's power. The more his minions suffered, the stronger Arawn and his enforcers, like Y Cwfl, became.
No more. This ended today.
Lorwerth had a plan.
"The Koovl!" Stomp.
"The Koovl!" Stomp.
Lorwerth's knees quivered.
His body would have sagged if not for his outstretched arms held up by woven iron rope. Spikes along the binding dug into his wrists.
Stinking sweat poured into his eyes. His hair stuck to his head and neck. His back lay in raw agony from a whip split into five lengths, each strip hot as burning coal spun into leather.
The Koovl had paused in striking him.
If Lorwerth's heart gave out, which it had many times, The Koovl would call his master to bring Lorwerth back to life. They'd dump him in his hole, a circular space ten feet across, and leave him until he'd healed enough to start the vicious cycle over.
Torture came in many forms.
Like waiting for the unknown.
Every time he regained consciousness after healing, he waited in terror for what would come next. It changed constantly, from beatings to perversion to flogging to losing body parts that were later regrown.
Through it all, his mind refused to give way to insanity.
That left him only one choice--force The Koovl to destroy his body beyond the point Arawn could heal it.
Lorwerth had seen The Koovl make that mistake once before, th