Prologue

  In the Fifth Age, when the Ein Sof walked the earth and the Nephilim had no yet been bound to the pilrs of the world, the forces darkness and light fought one final battle to destroy the world or save it.

  The servants of the Ein Sof, demi-gods who appeared as the mortal races and fought with the strength of the gods themselves, met their ancient foe on the battlefields and in the air.

  The Jotun, enormous beasts of ash and flesh, waged war against the heavenly host and against life itself, believing that their purpose in this world was to serve those even Death herself feared.

  In the end, the Zohar named Sigrid faced and felled the self-described “God Butcher” Nekh’ith, allowing the world to grow and thrive without the threat of total annihition looming overhead.

  The cost was great, and the thirteen remaining Zohar sacrificed their power to become immortal Seals that bound the Jotun, their masters and their own servants away, at the cost of becoming immortal yet very mortal beings.

  They became known as the Founder Kings and lived in obscurity and safety for centuries until one day, someone began to murder their offspring in brutal ways…

  Now

  The woman sobbed as the man pushed down on her shoulder, his fingers digging into her soft flesh, and shaved her head. The whine of the electric shaver and the feeling of the small bdes cutting away her beautiful hair only made the scene more traumatic to the blindfolded woman.

  “Why are you doing this? Who are you?” She had been asking the same two questions for hours now, and still her assaint remained silent.

  The person instead tapped the shaver against a counter and shook out all the stray hairs before turning his attention back to the woman. She wriggled against her bonds, but the rope that tied her naked body to the chair was tied too well, and she knew she had no hope to escape. The person instead tapped the shaver against something hard, knocking the st hair out then turned it off.

  “This next part will not hurt at all. After I administer the sedative, that is. You should be thankful. I did not give the others the same treatment.” The voice sounded familiar. It was a male’s voice, but seemed muffled by something…a mask?

  “Why are you doing this?” He seemed to pause for a moment before responding, and his voice sounded like a shrug.

  “I have been tasked with breaking the Seals. Three have been broken, ten remain. Now, go to sleep. It’ll all be over soon.” Before she could respond, before she could say the name of the man who she now recognized, she felt a needle press against her throat and a burning sensation erupted from the injection site. Within seconds, she lost consciousness and within hours, her body would be found posed and dressed and with the message written in her own blood painted across the ground.

  “The fourth seal is broken. Nine remain.”