Excerpt: The Tyrant King

“Why, King Jareth, I believe we’ve frightened your bride.”
Krystal did not move as the stranger spoke. Instead, her eyes flicked to her husband, who immediately walked to her side and took her arm.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
She nodded. She couldn’t make her mouth work just yet. Krystal blinked, but still he stood there—tall and dark haired, with painfully familiar green eyes.
The stranger cleared his throat. “Perhaps introductions are in order?” He bowed low, and then straightened to look at her. “Donovan Gildresleve of Demarde at your service, my queen.”
“It appears my uncle had a son,” said Jareth.
Krystal found her voice. “Impossible.”