Heartbreaker Read online

  Praise for V. Romas Burton

  I knew Heartmender was a winner when, after reading mountains of other books, this was the one I kept thinking about.

  S. C. Megale, Next Generation Indie Book Awards

  V. Romas Burton's Heartmender pumps new blood into the classic good-versus-evil paradigm by way of the classic Seven Deadly Sins.

  Lorehaven Magazine

  This is a perfect combination of fairy-tale and Christian fantasy that I absolutely adore.

  M. H., Amazon

  Though Addie's story is only fictional, her journey testifies to us that there are forces of light and darkness around us. That we can choose to be "mended" by someone greater than us and who loves and cares for us.

  Laura, Barnes & Noble

  This is one of the best allegories I've ever read.

  Angela, Instagram

  We feel, taste, smell all the different challenges faced with great description.

  Jason, Amazon

  It was frightening and beautiful, a tale of the war between good and evil and our parts in the fight.

  Dawn, Amazon

  Highly recommended for those who love light romance, action/adventure, sibling stories, christian allegory that's done in a very relatable, not overbearing/heavy handed way.

  Claire, Amazon

  Narnia meets Dante’s Inferno.

  Kell, Goodreads

  Addie is a flawed yet dynamic character I couldn't help but root for.

  Angie, Goodreads

  A deliciously dark world sprinkled with Hope.

  Rachael, Goodreads

  I read it breathlessly racing along as fast as the main character did.

  Maura, Goodreads

  I devoured the new world created by the author.

  Sofia, Goodreads

  The artistry is hauntingly surreal yet truthful for its depiction of a young woman who must overcome the trials of life that blindside so many of us.

  Lands Uncharted

  This has been one of the greatest books I've had the pleasure of reading this year.

  Jeff, Goodreads

  A very unique take on the seven deadly sins, and the choices we all face throughout our lives.

  Chrissy, Amazon

  Heartbreaker

  Heartmender #2

  V. Romas Burton

  Monster Ivy Publishing

  Copyright © 2020 by V. Romas Burton

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover design by Cammie Larsen

  Cover image from Shutterstock

  Map by Adam Gray

  To Buela

  Enjoy a beautiful eternity

  For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this age, against spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places.

  Ephesians 6:12

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Prologue

  The blood-red door on the right slammed shut as the first Reigner traded their heart away. The usual cool weather plummeted to a frigid chill. Damien frowned, crossing his arms over his chest as the crowd buzzed around him, thick with anticipation and desire. Something wasn’t right.

  As the thought flew through his mind, a guttural cackle erupted from between the two doors.

  "You, stupid humans!" the vendor, Schism Breaker, laughed as his fingers elongated into midnight claws. His skin stretched as his limbs transformed him into a horrid creature with red eyes and decrepit wings. "It's time for a new reign in this dismal realm."

  Before anyone could react, Schism attacked. Bodies flew through the market, striking buildings and crashing onto the cobblestone streets. Delectable pastries and shining trinkets plummeted to the ground as the crowd exploded into screams of terror and panic. People shoved against one another as the Traders scattered away from the popular vendor. Damien lifted his arms, ready to brace himself against the oncoming horde. He knew something like this would happen one day. Turning to his lady on his right, he placed a hand on her cheek, his forehead touching hers before he whispered, “Run.”

  With her eyes wide, she threw her thin arms around his neck. After squeezing him tight, she gathered up the fabric of her violet dress and joined the masses fleeing toward the white trees of Wintertide. Damien rushed behind her, elbowing the panicked people of Barracks out of the way. Relief lighted his chest as he turned quickly and watched her small form disappear between the trees of the surrounding forest, safe from the slaughter.

  The cracking of bones snapped Damien’s attention back to the market, and he veered left toward the blacksmith’s forge. He needed something to defend himself, and Gladio always had new weapons ready for Heart Reign.

  Streams of people swarmed around him, toppling over one another as they screamed and pointed. Damien spun around. This time he did panic. The odor of decaying flesh plunged through the air as a flood of sickly-looking beasts poured through the red doors. Their elongated limbs and gray skin were grotesque. Long, ebony claws dug into the ground as the monsters preyed on his people.

  Bile rose to the back of Damien’s throat as he watched a creature impale Brit Hocking, the clock master. Blood dribbled from the puncture wounds, pooling at the monster’s feet. With a flick of its wrist, the creature flung Brit away and leaned over the blood, sucking the red aura from it until the pool was dull and gray. Damien brought a hand to his mouth and bit his fist to prevent his scream. What were those things? Creatures from the shadows? But why were they here?

  Forcing himself to move, Damien clambered his way through the frantic people, commanding them to hide or escape into Wintertide.

  Leaping over the fallen displays of the once-jovial festival, he arrived at the forge. Damien froze as he saw the blacksmith’s apprentice, Silas, bending over Gladio’s portly body. The old blacksmith’s vibrant, olive-toned skin was dull and lifeless.

  “What happened to him?” Damien gasped, barreling toward the apprentice. He fisted Silas’s shirt in his hands before slamming him against the wall.

  Silas stared back at Damien, his face blank, but he lifted his hands in surrender. “I—” he began before wrenching out of Damien’s grasp and retreating from the forge.

  “Wait!” Damien cried, regretting his hasty accusation. “Wait, I need your—”

  Silas’s blond locks melded into the chaos, and Damien lowered his hand. It was too late. He was already gone.

  Sorrow weighted Damien’s shoulders as he turned back to the
deceased blacksmith. He closed Gladio’s eyes, then covered him in a canvas. How could Silas leave his master in such a dishonorable way?

  Anger churned his stomach as he ran to the opposite end of the forge. Damien’s gaze landed on a wall of gleaming knives. Silas may flee from a fight, but he, Damien, never would.

  He ripped knives off the wall, not caring about their size or jewels. The screams of the massacre outside sent his hands in a fury as he strapped the various blades onto his belt.

  Rushing out of the forge, Damien darted through the streets, the icy air dense with the metallic stench of blood. Gripping a knife in each hand, Damien lunged at a gray creature chasing young Willy Travis. The poor child was only seven.

  He stabbed the knives in the creature’s back and arm before retracting them. The monster moaned, grabbing Willy’s leg. Willy whimpered, covering his face as Damien impaled a knife in the creature’s head and stomach repeatedly until the beast’s limbs went limp. It fell forward, squashing little Willy. Damien heaved as he pulled Willy out from beneath the monster. Thankfully, the boy had nothing more than a few scratches.

  “Run to Wintertide and hide,” he commanded.

  With tears rolling down his plump, red cheeks, Willy nodded and took off.

  Deep moans ricocheted off the broken displays as the creatures ravaged the market. Damien’s knees quivered, but he forced his legs to move. He wouldn’t allow these monsters to kill the people who had helped him when his father wouldn’t. Though it had taken him several tries to kill one beast, he was ready to destroy the rest.

  Damien hurried to the center of the market, daggers still in each hand, and tackled the first monster he saw. He pierced the knives anywhere he saw gray skin. Sweat dripped down his temples, and his arms strained after multiple strikes, but he wouldn’t stop until each creature was dead.

  Snatching one of the knives off his belt, Damien flung it at a monster dragging Old Man Chank through the crowd. The bronze hilt protruded between the soulless black eyes of the creature, and it crumpled to the ground. Old Man Chank almost fainted but was caught by Chandra Dunkis, one of the seamstresses from the market. The two scrambled toward the white birch trees of Wintertide.

  Wiping the sweat from his brow, Damien narrowed his gaze as he scanned the chaos. Dread coiled around him as Headmaster Clive was captured by two monsters and dragged from the market. He anticipated the headmaster’s demise, but the creatures didn’t kill him. What did they want with him?

  Damien turned, ready to save the headmaster, when he noticed an angel in the crowd. Blonde waves flowed from her head as she glided through the panic. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

  “What do we have here?” Her voice danced over him like freshly fallen snow. She lifted a hand, and the monster to his right ceased its attack. “A hero among the cowards?”

  “I’m no hero,” Damien replied.

  The curvaceous woman raised her hand again, and another creature next to her stopped, as well. Though it still moaned and swiped the air, it didn’t attack. Damien cocked his head to the side, waiting.

  “If you’re not a hero, then what are you?” She licked her crimson lips sensuously.

  He held his knives pointedly at the woman. “Nothing you would like, madam.”

  The woman placed a hand on her chest and let out a sultry laugh, sending Damien’s nerves on end. Yes, his judgment about this one had been correct.

  The woman stroked the yellow stone on her necklace. A staticky sound popped before she pointed her slender finger at him. An electric-blue light zinged through her skin.

  Damien held his stance and waited for the blow. But when nothing happened, he gave an impish smirk.

  “Interesting,” the woman mused, studying her fingertips. “I can’t harm you.”

  “Don’t you hate it when that happens?”

  The woman pursed her lips, the playful tone of her voice fleeing as she tapped her small chin. “There must be something else.”

  Her gaze darted behind Damien, and a vicious grin split her face. “Find the females,” she commanded, with a flick of her wrist. A group of monsters groaned, stretching their sewn lips before sprinting into Wintertide.

  “No!” Damien screamed, launching after the group of monsters before his legs were swept out from under him. Groaning, he quickly spun over his shoulder and lodged his dagger in the face of the creature. It hissed. Black blood dripped from the wound onto Damien’s face. Damien threw the monster off and started running, only to be hit by more creatures.

  Damien stabbed and punched as many as he could, but they kept coming. He had to stop the beasts. He couldn’t let the creatures find them.

  With a yell, Damien simultaneously pierced two monsters in the backs of their heads before breaking free of the pack. His feet flew across the snowy ground, trying to catch up with the first group of monsters, but it was too late. The woman had pointed the creatures straight in the direction of the people he valued most dear. High-pitched screams echoed against the gray cloud. Each familiar shriek shattered his soul, and Damien cried out in anguish. He fell to his knees, allowing the monsters to pile on top of him. He sobbed as the creatures killed them, one by one. And he would be next.

  Chapter 1

  As I left the white door's warmth, the cool breeze slapped me in the face, and I welcomed it as an old friend. Goosebumps popped on my arms, although I rubbed them furiously. The dress Sana had given me was beautiful, but the fabric was a terrible defense against the chill. I shivered as the wind beat against my exposed neck, blowing my short locks from their braids.

  Home. I could hardly wait to find Nana and Silas and tell them everything that had happened. I could practically see them as I opened my eyes, expecting their blank faces to greet me. But as I scanned the horizon, my heart dropped.

  Dark, filthy ice coated the field before the market. While there had always been ice in Barracks, it had never been dirty. A thick, muddied coating covered the trees, as well. The sky was dense with charcoal clouds. Grabbing the strap of my satchel, I searched around. Where was everyone? Worry rose in my chest. This was not the Barracks I had left.

  I stepped onto the mud-streaked ice, my foot sliding across the fickle foundation. Catching myself before I fell, I unwrapped Lyle's sweater from the bundle and yanked it over my head. The warmth of it cocooned my skin, reminding me of what I had been through and what I had overcome.

  I placed the additional shirt and pants Sana had given me in my satchel before turning to James, who had his hands fisted on his hips, staring blankly ahead. His gaze was heavy, drinking in the icy land; the downturn of his lips deepened.

  “It wasn’t always like this,” I started to explain.

  “I know,” James replied gruffly, covering his mouth as he gave a raspy cough before cutting his eyes to me. “It was my home, too.”

  “Oh.” I had wondered which Land he was the Magister of.

  “We should probably take a look around,” he continued. His fingers adjusted the pack on his shoulder before he trudged through the thick snow.

  Brushing the stray curls from my forehead, I followed. The layer of ice on top of the snow crunched beneath our feet, echoing against the eerie silence.

  Every few steps, James’s head rotated from left to right as he analyzed the state of his former home. Barracks was probably still a fruitful land of happiness and warmth when he was here last.

  Taking a few long strides, I caught up to him. He took a deep breath, allowing the air to trickle slowly from his mouth and form a thin cloud.

  "So, a Magister?" I asked, hoping to distract him from the cold wasteland.

  James grunted as he rubbed his chin, keeping his ice-blue eyes forward.

  The wind howled, and I wrapped my arms around my stomach. Had the weather gotten worse since I had left? How long had I been gone?

  The question sent uneasy tingles through my veins before James responded.

  "It's a position of honor bestowed upon those who have mastered
the way of the Mender." He tapped his chest, where the mark of the Mender was carved.

  "Is that what that extra mark means? That you're a Magister?"

  He nodded, keeping his attention on the icy plain. "Eman is an ancient creature, knowledgeable in the oldest of magics. When darkness first descended from Regno, he chose one Magister from each of the Lands to protect and defend them. I was the Magister for Barracks."

  I sucked in a breath as my foot sunk into thick mud from melted ice. Luckily, I had changed into my boots before leaving Ramni, but the beautiful dress was now ruined from the sludge.

  Yanking the hem out of the muck, I turned back to James. Should I ask how Ophidian infiltrated Barracks so easily? Luckily, James explained without much prompting.

  His thick fingers tightened around his pack. "It was my job to protect the people. And I failed," he whispered so quietly, I barely heard it.

  I studied James’s downcast gaze. I could almost see the guilt layered on his shoulders. How long had James been carrying that burden? Dropping the hem back into the mud, I stopped.