‘The Stars are Dying is the hotly anticipated first book in the epic, dark Nytefall trilogy. Loosely inspired by the Greek myth of Astraea and the fall of the Golden Age and featuring a hostile world full of vampires, The Stars are Dying infuses mythology and ancient folklore for a richly inventive, world-building romantasy. Forbidden love, deadly Hunger Games-inspired trials, light vs. dark with magic, mystery and a hefty level of spice make this an unmissable read.’

A USA Today and B&N bestseller, don’t miss this tale of star-crossed lovers in a world full of magic, mystery, and betrayal.

‘The brightest star needs the darkest night.’

In a world abandoned by its celestial guardians and left to suffer a tyrant king’s reign, all Astraea can recall are the fragmented memories of the past five years. She’s determined to discover more about her past, even if that means leaving behind the only safety and security she has ever known by venturing out into a world where bloodthirsty vampires are rumoured to roam.

Making her way in an unfamiliar world, she encounters the mysterious Nyte, who makes her an offer she cannot refuse. As Astraea accepts Nyte’s help, she is drawn in by his darkness and she begins to wonder if she has struck a deal with one of the ruthless beings her people have always feared.

Astraea’s opportunity to escape this deal presents itself when she has to decide whether to take her friend’s place in centenary celebrations of the Libertatem – a succession of trials hosted by the king in which the five human lands compete for safety against vampires who hunt them down to drink their blood.

Is fighting for the safety of her kingdom worth more than answering questions about her past?

1 

I didn’t think I’d be so reluctant to greet death as the man I watched die.  From above, I was a mere spectator to his pleas for his children, his wife,  and the job he wished to spend the rest of his years working for the one  who stood to claim his life. 

He didn’t know I was there. 

Every time I watched a man on his knees, I couldn’t help my need to  observe from the high rafters, wondering if I’d relate to his pleas if my own  breaths were numbered. With my fragmented memories only spanning five  years, I had little to attach my purpose to. 

It was as if Hektor Goldfell heard no cries as he gave a nod to the brute  of a man pinning the victim down with a single large hand on his shoulder.  He wouldn’t spill blood—not in this room. He wouldn’t disturb the bustling  night time entertainment in the main room of his establishment with this  man’s death. 

I pinched my lips at the sickening twist of his neck, fortunately not hearing the crack over the chatter and low music before his body slumped. It  churned my stomach all the same. 

As though he’d exerted himself, Hektor slumped into the nearest booth,  flicking his chin so the few locks of red hair weren’t touching his eyes any more. When two beautiful women slipped in either side of him, I averted my  eyes, lying down on the wooden beam only a little wider than my spine. My  glittering silver hair spilled over the sides, along with the sheer material of  my skirt, which floated in the air. But I didn’t fear anyone finding me here.  They never looked up. 

My fingers brushed the ornate black hilt of my dagger idly. I wasn’t permitted to dance or entertain like the women below, but I still enjoyed the  lightweight elegance of their movements. 

Skilfully, I got back to my feet, perhaps childishly copying one of the  ladies who was trying out the art of theft among the newest group of esteemed card players. Distraction came in her fluid movements. I crossed over  the wooden rafters, light on my toes, twirling like she did, and studied her movements, pretending it was I who attracted the men’s lusty eyes, their gazes  preoccupied enough to miss her hand purposely placed on one’s shoulder to  divert his attention from her other hand dipping into his pocket.

I couldn’t see what she stole, but her blue irises gleamed triumph. 

She twisted and perched on the edge of the table, arching her back as she  lay so as not to disturb their game. I reclined backward until my hands felt  the wood, legs rotating in the air, and my next blink canceled out the dizzy  sweep as I straightened again. Then I leaned back against the vertical support  with a sigh, casting my gaze away from the busy candlelit room to the gloom  of my vantage point. Cloaked in shadow, I felt no more than an insect caught  in a spider’s web. It was hard to believe we were in the same room. 

Sometimes I wished the guests would see me just once, even if I disappeared in their next blink since I was a prize only to be known by one man. My eyes found Hektor, who hadn’t moved at all, though the women were  now spilling themselves over him. His deep green irises were the one set I’d  never want to be found by up here. 

Within these grand walls he kept me safe from the horrors outside. The  vampires. Different species of them who consumed blood or souls and kept  the humans afraid. 

But they, like us, were under the control of the king. 

The main room was bustling with talk of the Libertatem, a centennial  trial hosted by the wicked ruler in the Central Kingdom of Vesitire. Five  humans, the Selected, from the surrounding kingdoms would be sent off in  the coming days to compete for one hundred years of safety from vampire attacks. When our world upended into chaos three hundred years ago, following the king’s conquest in the war he announced henceforth that the humans  would fight for peace, and the vampires would be kept under control by his  enforcement of the Libertatem trials. I suppose it gave the people something  to look forward to. If their kingdom won, they’d have freedom to leave their  homes without terror for themselves and their children for a generation. If  they lost, at least it was a break of pageantry in their bleak lives. 

I think everyone knew deep down but didn’t want to acknowledge that their beacon of hope was a lie of oppression. I couldn’t relate to the excitement that buzzed through people’s talk of it, but I understood. 

Spirits were fragile. Hope kept them from breaking. 

As I remained confined within these four elaborate walls with rarely any opportunity to venture beyond them, I didn’t know as much of the outside world  as I yearned to. All I could do was pluck kernels of insight from my frequent  eavesdropping during these envious nights of beauty, gambling, and seduction. 

I spent hours here listening in to the discussions of guests more eagerly  than usual but my interest rooted more personally. 

Four more days until the Libertatem send- off. 

A clock ticked each minute in my mind as if it was an opportunity slipping through my fingers like sand and a grip on my heart squeezed tight at  the thought of my longest friend leaving as our Selected from the southern most Kingdom of Alisus. 

My memory went back far enough to remember Hektor’s hold on me, but  not what had chased me into his comparatively safe arms. He’d brought me  here and told everyone the story of how I wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for  him. Now, five years later, from what I’d been told, I was around the age of  twenty- three, and I knew he’d never let me forget that debt. 

My hand hovered over the two long scars that ran from under my jaw  to the hollow of my neck. Though I couldn’t recall the face, nor the moment it had happened, phantom jolts of searing pain erupted whenever I  thought of it. Like when I fixated too long on the raised skin in the mirror,  trying to find the memory. Another mystery perhaps owed to what I’d fled  from. 

What remained a despair I could never voice was that I would never know  who I was before Hektor. 

“You’re safe now, Astraea,” he had said. 

Those first words I would always remember. Hektor hadn’t just found me,  but also my name, which once heard I knew was mine. 

In that respect, he possessed both my lives.

The Stars Are Dying is out this week from Headline! You can order your copy on Bookshop.org