In Flames, Destined Series Volume 1

by Elissa Daye

  In Flames

  The Destined Series

  By

  Elissa Daye

  World Castle Publishing

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, organizations, or person, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  World Castle Publishing

  Pensacola, Florida

  Copyright © Elissa Daye 2012

  ISBN: 9781938243868

  First Edition World Castle Publishing July 15, 2012

  http://www.worldcastlepublishing.com

  Licensing Notes

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in articles and reviews.

  Cover: Karen Fuller

  Photos: Shutterstock

  Editor: Brieanna Robertson

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to the people who have been pushing me to follow my dreams throughout the years: my husband, my friends, my family. Whenever I wanted to give up, you lifted my spirits and kept me motivated. With your support, anything is possible.

  Chapter 1

  Outlands 1342

  The Outlands was a favored stopping place for the soldiers of Blackwolf Keep. It was a village filled with wanton women who had decided to live away from the rest of the world. The soldiers were always eager to slake their lust within its walls. The wars that waged across the countryside had almost diminished, making their visits to their favorite stopping point few and far between but always treasured. When they arrived within the wooden gates, the women of the village rushed toward their horses with their buxom chests and swaying hips. Everyone knew that the night would be filled with sounds of passion.

  Lord Aesov walked into the middle of town like he owned the place. After days of conquest he was more than ready to find a warm body to relieve the tension from his aching body. The Outlands was certainly the place for that. He had taken his pleasure with most of the women in the village and today would certainly be no different. The women were lounging all around him, but none of his usual conquests would quench his thirst today. That was until he spotted Bridget from across the camp. Something about her distracted him from the swarm of beauties before him. Perhaps it was the fiery hair that fought to escape from its ties, the way her chin jutted out in defiance as he perused her body, or maybe even the way she tried to ward off the blush that crept up her face. He had never seen her in the Outlands before. He would certainly have remembered her. When he dismounted, he walked over to where the quiet woman stood. When he reached out to take her hand, she pulled it away. He bowed low to her and let his eyes meet hers slowly. “I’m Lord Aesov, leader of Blackwolf Keep. I am humbled by your beauty, my lady.”

  “Humbled my arse,” she chided him.

  “I’ve never seen you before. Are you new to Outlands?”

  “What you mean to say is you’ve never ridden me before. I’m not a doxy and I do not tussle for the mere sport of it, my lord.” She lowered her blue eyes away from his and turned away from him.

  “Aye. I can see that.”

  From that moment on, Aesov made it a goal to stop in the Outlands as often as he could and a slow courtship began. He had never been turned down before and his ego made him feel like a stuffed porcupine; his prickles were always up whenever she was around. It took time and perseverance on his part, not to mention spending time away from his husbandly duties at Blackwolf Keep. His wife, Lilyana, had known better than to keep him on a tight leash. While it would have been objectionable to most women, the riches she enjoyed made turning her back on his dalliances easier to do.

  When Bridget finally caved in to his demands, Aesov could not get enough of her. He had stayed with her for weeks at a time hoping that soon his desire for her would be quenched. He knew she was becoming attached to him, so he planned on breaking it off as soon as he had his fill of her.

  Aesov ran his warm hands all over the beautiful body before him, his desire for her so unworldly he thought he would explode. She had been rather difficult to seduce away from her naive notions that love was the only thing that separated them from the wild animals of the forest. It had been hard to trick her, to make her believe that her feelings were returned, but Aesov had been persistent. He would never settle down with the fiery redhead, not the way she wanted, but he had yet to voice it to her. He finished up hastily within her and pulled the covers up around him.

  “Oh, Aesov, will it always be like this?”

  Aesov grimaced slightly. He had not expected her to start in on him right away. Rather than answer her he grabbed her closer and covered her mouth with his own. His very kiss robbed her of all her thoughts and, once again, they were lost in the moment. When they were both fully satisfied, Bridget fell asleep. Aesov removed himself from bed and gathered his clothes.

  When he returned the next evening Bridget met him at the doorway with a passionate kiss. His hand reached to pinch the tight nipples beneath her dress and she moaned against him. Their desire renewed once more and they spent the rest of the evening ignoring the world around them as they reveled in the flames that leapt between them. When Bridget brought up the future again, he pretended to be asleep.

  The next night began like the others. Aesov knew that he would soon have to tell Bridget that he had no intention of marrying her, that she was just a stop along the road he traveled in life, a diversion from his married life. He would happily keep her as a mistress in Outlands, for his wife had already drawn the line at housing any mistresses within the Keep.

  When their desire had died down much later in the night Bridget told him of the plans she was making for her wedding dress. “I think blue would make an absolutely beautiful dress.”

  “I’m sorry, what wedding dress?”

  “The one I will wear when we wed, silly.” Her eyes beamed up at him and the moonlight streamed in the window around them.

  Aesov let out a long, drawn out sigh. “Bridget, I have never said anything about this being a permanent relationship. The truth of the matter is, I cannot marry you.”

  “Why not?” Her blue eyes misted over.

  Aesov looked away from her, trying his best to hide his guilt and wanting to protect her from the shame he knew she was about to feel. If he had met her long ago, before he had married his wife, things might have been different. While he had only felt desire for her when he first saw her, he had cultivated a fondness for her over the past few months. “I’m already married, Bridget.”

  “If you were already married to someone else, you had no right to be with anyone else. So what are you saying, Aesov? Was I just a tumble for you? Did my feelings, what I wanted, mean absolutely nothing to you?”

  He felt a slight sliver of guilt rise to his conscience “I was drawn to you in ways I could not understand, Bridget. Just because I cannot marry you does not mean this has to end.”

  “Get out! Get out this very instant!”

  When her blue eyes flashed a dangerous warning Aesov gathered his clothes and dressed briskly. He looked back at the woman in the bed before leaving the doorway. “Goodbye, sweet Bridget. You have only to send for me if you change your mind.”

  Bridget threw the covers back from her bed and raced across the room with an enraged shriek. She stood in the doorway, her naked form trembling in anger, staring venomously at Aesov. Her red hair rose in the air, static electricity crackled around the strands, and flames ignited the area around her. The fiery waves circled around her, crackling viciously. “A
esov!”

  He turned to look at her, slight fear showing across his face. He had never seen this side of her before, never known she was one of the hidden women of Lena, but it certainly made sense as to why she had concealed herself in the Outlands. He gathered his wits about him, prepared for almost any attack she would throw at him.

  “I curse thee! From this day forward, you will forever be followed by the beast that lies within your heart! The power of Lena take thee!”

  The rays of the moon hit his skin and he felt it burn a pathway across his arm. His body started to convulse so angrily that he fell to the ground retching. Claws ripped through his fingertips, fangs poked through his gums, and hair bristled all around him. His bones cracked loudly as they changed shape within his skin. It took what seemed like a lifetime for the metamorphosis to finish, but when it was completed the proud man that was Aesov no longer remained. Only a black wolf that cringed in pain and confusion. He looked at the woman surrounded by the glowing light, thinking she looked more like an angel than the witch that had condemned him to this beastly shape. All around him he heard screams of pain as his men ran from the huts, contorting into beastly shapes right before his eyes.

  “You and your people will pay for all eternity for their callous master. Every time the full moon echoes across the sky you will forever be reminded of the heart you threw asunder under this moon. Away with you, beast!”

  From that moment on Aesov and all his descendants suffered the same ailment, hoping that someday someone would be able to break the curse created from Bridget’s broken heart on that full moon so long ago.

  Chapter 2

  Elkliss Keep, 1537

  When his brother’s army stopped outside the keep Viktor Pralus regretfully prepared for battle. He gave the command for the archers to line the walls and his soldiers to lay in wait in the bailey. Viktor held his breath from his position at the wall next to the archers. He peered over the edge and was met with a sight that was unexpected. His brother, Simeon, was waving the banner of peace from atop his black destrier. Viktor breathed a sigh of relief and made preparations for his brother to enter Elkliss Keep. He called off his men and allowed Simeon and a few of his accompanying soldiers inside the bailey. They entered waving the white flag and, for once, Viktor was happy to see his brother and was finally hopeful that Simeon was making amends for his actions against Elkliss over the last few years. His heart yearned to finally find a truce with his younger brother. Simeon had coveted his role as Lord of Elkliss Keep since the moment their father had passed.

  Viktor went to meet his brother in the bailey, his heart lighter as he offered his arms for a brotherly hug. Simeon walked toward him swiftly, seemingly anxious to bury the hatchet between them. No one had seen the glint of metal hidden within his brother’s sleeve, and when it pierced Viktor’s heart the only thing that was left of the Lord of Elkliss Keep was the frozen shock of betrayal on his face.

  Viktor’s men rallied around their dead leader and a cry of attack rang throughout the air. Simeon’s men had also smuggled weapons into Elkliss with them and several more men had stormed through the open portcullis. Soon the people of Elkliss were overwhelmed as the troops pillaged their home. Simeon pulled a sword from one of the fallen, swung it in a high arc in the air and cleaved Viktor’s head from his body. He picked it up off the ground, carried it under his arms like a lost helmet, and made his way into the keep to find his dear brother’s wife.

  When Simeon entered the doorway of the keep Alycia was standing at the bottom of the stairs. She attempted to cast a large ball of flame to shoot at Simeon, but he raised Viktor’s head to block it. When she saw her beloved husband’s head she fell to the floor, her piercing sobs interlacing with the sounds of the battle outside. Her eyes glazed over and the shock of the moment sank in. When Simeon walked closer to her she could not even glance at him, for the last image of her husband’s decapitated head was scarred into her eyes

  * * *

  The sounds of battle momentarily stunned her as they reached the tower where Lysandra lay hidden in her room. When she heard her mother’s cries, she could no longer be held in place. She felt the world spin out of control as the truth of the moment shattered around her. When Lysandra came back to her senses she was not at all aware of what was happening to the world around her. One moment her life was carefree and peaceful. In the next, her home was alight with a plundering force that was inescapable. She looked out the window to see the massacre below and bit back a sob. She realized that her life would never be the same, for even she knew that her people were outnumbered and would fall easily under the strain of the massive army. When the first sounds of attack rose up from the bailey she followed the servants to her sanctuary in the tower as her parents had always trained her to do.

  “What’s happened?” She questioned them, but they would not answer her. She looked at Moessa and saw the truth hidden inside. “Why hide it, brave Moessa? You know I can sense it if I need to. I would much rather hear it from you.” She pleaded with her lifelong friend and personal maid.

  “Miss Lysandra, it’s your family.” Moessa’s blonde head wobbled with the force of her tears.

  “Who is left?” Lysandra asked her quietly.

  “I saw your mother, but she was struggling with her attacker. You must run, mistress. You are the only one who can keep your legacy safe.”

  I will not desert her, Lysandra thought to herself. She touched Moessa’s hand and immediately understood where her mother was being held. Moessa jerked her hand away so that her mistress could not see in her mind what she had seen with her eyes. She knew at once that it was a futile attempt when Lysandra ran to the Great Hall to find her mother.

  When Lysandra ran down the stairway she saw the sinister stare of her uncle Simeon as he wiped his knife on his tunic. The devilish look of delight on his face should have been enough to make her scream, but it was the look on her mother’s face that ripped her world in two. The last bit of life drained from it as the blood pooled around her on the floor. It was quite clear that her uncle had taken his pleasure in raping her mother before slicing his knife against her neck. The woman’s auburn hair slid down her face and Lysandra screamed as loudly as she could inside her mind. The glass lamps hung on the wall smashed in her silent anguish and her world crashed to a stop as she plummeted to the floor.

  She felt the guards behind her before they got to her, but was not quick enough to respond before they grabbed her arms. She struggled against their firm grip and wished she had more control over the magic inside her to break free. They forced Lysandra to stand before her uncle. She glared at him, wishing she had been able to sear him with a few blasts to wipe the satisfied sneer off his face.

  Lysandra looked over at her mother, her body so small and lifeless on the floor. She had died a million deaths the moment Viktor’s brother decided to rip her one true love away from her. Her essence had faded long before the first disgusting thrusts. When his blade ripped through her throat, her murder had been complete. Lysandra was sickened. Her uncle, her own blood, had murdered everyone that had ever mattered to her in mere moments. Lysandra now understood why her mother had always kept a guard around her whenever her uncle dared to visit. She eyed him with hatred, wishing nothing more to end his life as painfully as possible.

  The tunic he was wearing caught fire and he chuckled in response, cutting it from his body and tossing it down. “Hold her!” Simeon licked her face and groped through her dress. She could feel his newly swollen member near her womanhood and struggled to move away. He thrust at her then pushed her away and panted at her side. “I had quite a life planned for you, but my dear wife has different ideas.”

  “You were family!” Her screams shook the air. “How could you? You evil beast! This is not over!”

  “Ah, but I have already won, Lysandra. What was his is now mine. Your little threats will get you nowhere. You’ll be lucky to live through the life we have planned for you. Just look, even now your pow
ers escape you. Such are the powers of the women of Lena; fickle, useless at times, but even more so for one as untrained as yourself. Take her to the dungeons.”

  The guards yanked her forward and she turned her head back one last time to glare hatefully at the man she had once called uncle. She struggled against the fingers that held her arms like a vise. She sneered at the men who looked back at her. The glass in the hallway shattered around her and the men ducked away from the pieces. She tried to pull free from their grasp, but they shook the glass away easily and held their grip on her arms.

  “We like ’em with fight, don’t we, Robbie?” The man snorted at his friend.

  “Maybe he’ll let us have her first.”

  Instant fear saturated every inch of her body. Did he intend to let his men rape her as well? Lysandra closed her eyes as they dumped her within the cell underneath the keep. The last image of her mother would be forever imprinted in her head. She rolled into a ball on the cold stone floor and cried until her eyes could no longer produce tears. When no more tears would come, Lysandra stared numbly at the darkness around her.

  Each night turned to day with little notice, for she only saw darkness. She was brought the bare minimum of food, when they could be bothered to bring it. Some days her aunt and uncle would come down to the dungeon to see if she was ready to submit to their rule. Lysandra was weak and tired, but she mustered enough energy to defy them. Every time they entered her cell she would glare and spit at them. Her hands were bound so tightly that she could not form any kind of magical attack. Each time she defied them they reduced the amount of food sent to her and waited for her to fall under their control. They waited in vain.

  More days continued to bleed into more nights until Lysandra no longer knew which day it was or how long she had been stuck inside her cell. The dungeon was kept in perpetual darkness, she was never allowed to venture above the depths of the prison that held her. She ate very little of the food offered her and the extra weight she had once carried fell from her bones. The hollow of her eyes started to sink further into her eye sockets and everything that had once been Lysandra no longer seemed to exist.