TEMPTING ETERNITY
THE CRUCIBLE SERIES BOOK 9
• • •
by
ANGELA COLSIN
• • •
Copyright © 2019 by Angela Colsin. All rights reserved by the author.
Published by Angela Colsin www.angelacolsin.com
Smashwords Edition
Cover image designed by Angela Colsin.
This story is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places, and events are either the product of the author's imagination, or merely used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual locations, events, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
This book is not for reproduction by any party outside of the copyright holder. Transmission of this publication by any means other than the intended e-book distribution is prohibited without prior written permission from the author.
For any questions, concerns, and/or comments, please send an email to the author at [email protected] or visit www.angelacolsin.com/contact
• • •
ALSO BY ANGELA COLSIN
Blue Moon
Light of Dawn
Strange Brew
Fallen Hearts
The Final Calling
Hunter's Moon
Fated Fortunes
Cast Into Shadow
TO JANELLE
Hay gurl, hay.
From the bottom of my heart, I'm so glad you've been there for me as I've written this book. Your support is a big part of why it was finally completed!
So thanks for being a friend even though I haven't paid my late fees!
You deserve so much more than this dedication provides!
— TABLE OF CONTENTS —
Preface
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
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Author's Note
— PREFACE —
Vampires: An immortal race of undead that rouse only during the hours between dusk and dawn, feeding on living blood to survive. Mortal blood is commonly consumed, though some immortal races, such as the fae, can also provide sustenance, while draconian blood is poisonous.
Contrary to popular belief, a vampire's heart beats when they're well-fed, though the longer they go without blood, the slower its pace becomes until it stops altogether. Should this happen, bloodlust is triggered, a normally controlled state of being for vampires where speed and strength are enhanced, as well as predatory instincts.
In the world of the supernatural, few races are as morally ambiguous as vampires. Theirs is a society divided into factions adhering to differing ethics, making it hard to know what vampire could be trusted— if any at all. These factions are run by a number of magistrates who report to Nightfall, an Order operating under The Crucible.
Fae: When nature remains undisturbed by the toil of mortals for many years, a sprite plants itself in the earth, spawning a being capable of fostering nature and protecting it. They are the fae, a highly inquisitive race of immortal females.
Typically, fae take on the attributes of whatever landscape engendered them, creating various types, though they're commonly known for deriving strength from the earth and communing with nature.
Uniquely, though the fae view one another as sisters and would fight to protect each other to the death, they adhere to no established Order operating under The Crucible.
— PROLOGUE —
The Cardinal Citadel, Sutrelle
2900 B.C.E.
Only a fool would believe themselves capable of directing a griffin in flight due to their horseback riding skill.
Mathias knew this truth well, and still, today he'd become the fool.
Swooping down for an unstable landing, his powerful, winged mount threw him from her back with enough force to bust several ribs upon hitting the ground. The incident served as proof that griffins were too strong to be ridden by anyone but the blooded, while mortals such as himself were best suited to tending their needs.
Yet the knowledge gained from grooming and feeding did nothing to help Mathias remain saddled. Thankfully, the flight harness kept the damage to a minimum, otherwise he likely would've plummeted to his death instead of finding himself lying upon a tiled pathway, cradling his left side with slow, shallow breaths in response to the pain now radiating through his chest.
Still, he didn't regret the decision to visit the Cardinal Citadel in such a manner, and his discomfort was nearly forgotten the moment he sat up and glanced at the surrounding courtyard.
Only ten feet away stood his brown and black griffin, settling down on her haunches to preen her feathers as if nothing were out of the ordinary. But she'd visited this fortress quite a few times whereas no mortal had ever laid eyes on the interior architecture up close without an invitation from the blooded.
Until now.
The thought had Mathias gazing at the scenery with interest. Central to the courtyard was a large fountain dripping water down across various stone ledges into a circular pool. Neatly planted gardens of red and white flowers surrounded the structure, swaying in the breeze while hummingbirds visited each blossom in their search for nectar.
But despite the courtyard's inviting tranquility, Mathias knew trouble was brewing because of his presence.
The Cardinal Citadel served as the seat of power in Sutrelle, a fortress located high in the mountains with no roads to use as access, leaving but a limited number of ways to reach it. Flying on a griffin was certainly one of them, and for Mathias, risking such a journey was worth it after years spent waiting with no absolution.
From the age of ten, he'd rigorously trained to prove his worth of being blooded as a protectorate of the goddess, Kalara. There was no higher honor for a Sutrellan warrior, one he was proud to work toward achieving. Of course, he hadn't expected to be chosen immediately, nor did he think only a few years would pass before one of the Oracles, or preferably, the Grand Priestess herself, called on him to serve.
But after more than a decade of honing both his body and his skills to a perfect degree, one would expect to have made some progress, particularly under his personal circumstances. Why was I chosen to be raised in the paradise of Sutrelle if I'm to be denied?
Originally from some place called Egypt, Mathias was one of only a few mortals living in Sutrelle who was actually born in the mortal world. According to the Oracle who'd raised him, his mother was too sickly to properly care for her infant son, and knew the only way to provide a worthwhile life was by sending him away.
Taking children so young wasn't an act Kalara's Oracles frequently engaged in, but this one sensed potential in Mathias, and agreed to take him.
He was only a babe at the time, and barely recalled anything of his homela
nd, nor did he care to learn more. Terra was often torn apart by wars and famine whereas Sutrelle was a divine realm where people worked together in harmony to achieve their goals.
So he'd ignored his roots in favor of spending his life preparing for the day when he'd be called on to serve Kalara. Yet, whatever potential the Oracle sensed must've been squandered as he was now twenty-seven, and continued to wait.
Year after year, he'd competed in tournaments and overcome opponents to prove his worth. But the only message any Oracle ever related was you're not ready, and the resulting frustration had grown unbearable.
So he'd taken matters into his own hands and traveled to the Citadel to find the Grand Priestess. As the Oracle's leader and the physical embodiment of Kalara, she was the only one who could provide an absolution, and all that remained to be seen was whether his trespassing would condemn him. Perhaps the Grand Priestess will show forgiveness when she learns what I've risked to come here.
At the thought, Mathias worked his way to his feet, ignoring the pain of his new injuries to begin his search.
Sadly, locating the Grand Priestess wouldn't be an easy task if only because he didn't actually know what she looked like. During public appearances, the religious leader always veiled herself in jeweled silks, leaving only her eyes visible. But those eyes were nearly entrancing, a vibrant shade of green he'd never seen in another person, which would hopefully be enough to give her away.
Regardless, he accessed the closest door leading inside, and quickly learned the courtyard was just a hint of the Citadel's grandeur.
A tall corridor lay ahead with vaulted ceilings and crystal light fixtures unlike anything his home village had to offer. The walls were embossed with golden carvings, some of which were encrusted with glittering, blood red gems while the various settees were no less munificent in design. Arched windows let in a great deal of sunlight, and Mathias took in the décor with curious interest.
Still, such extravagance wasn't exactly inviting. The silence pervading the fortress was strange—with so much space, it was hard to imagine why no one was presently enjoying the facilities available, and the solitude left him wary.
But though his search turned out to be time consuming, he never encountered a single soul. Instead, after accessing a stairwell leading into one of the towers, Mathias found a short hallway at the top landing leading to a large set of ornate double doors. Each was adorned with the golden bust of a woman's face, one he'd seen several times before—depictions of Kalara—making it seem likely that this was the Grand Priestess' personal quarters.
If so, was she inside? Or busy in some other part of the Citadel?
There was only one way to find out, and Mathias prepared with a deep breath, knowing whatever waited on the other side was certain to change his life. There was simply no way to know if it would be for the better without walking in, and he clutched the knob to turn it—just as a powerful fist clutched his throat.
With no warning, Mathias' boots left the floor only half a second before his body slammed into the nearest wall. A bright flash of light encompassed his vision, the pain of his broken ribs intensifying as he grabbed at the fist now cutting off his air supply.
Yet his struggles ceased the moment his vision cleared to reveal his assailant—a tall man with long, pale blond hair and glowing, crimson eyes. Such eyes signified his place as one of the blooded, telling Mathias he'd never escape this man's powerful grasp.
Still, in contrast to the blond's aggression, his expression was merely curious, proving he hadn't expected to find a mortal wandering the halls of the Cardinal Citadel. He even parted his lips as if to ask over it, revealing a set of sharpened fangs.
But before a word was spoken, the double doors Mathias had tried to enter quickly flew open at the hands of none other than the Grand Priestess.
Or at least, that's who he assumed she was due to her vibrant green eyes.
They were precisely the same as those he'd seen peering from behind the Priestess' usual jeweled veils, though her face was now visible—as was a good bit of her body.
Clad in nothing more than a strip of sheer, white cloth binding her breasts with a pendant around her neck and a slitted skirt revealing shapely legs, she was breathtaking—not that breathing was an option in that particular moment.
Regardless, his heart sped its pace. Mathias knew she'd be beautiful, but never imagined it would cause difficulty focusing when she asked silkily, “Artair? What's going on?”
On a deep, no-nonsense tone of voice, the blooded male answered, “I found this mortal roaming the halls a few minutes ago and followed him, though I have no idea how he got here.”
She arched a single brow over one lustrous eye, her thick, red lips curving into a smirk before waving a hand at Mathias in mentioning, “Then give him a chance to speak.”
“As you wish,” Artair returned, releasing his hold so abruptly that Mathias dropped to his knees, gasping for breath.
But he took little time to recover, fighting to ignore the pain of his broken ribs as he stood straight and showed the proper respect by bowing his head forward with an introduction.
“My name is Mathias, my lady, and I rode a griffon here to find you.”
Initially, the Priestess didn't respond, remaining silent until he raised his head to see a knowing smile.
“I already know your name,” she related.
“You do?
“Yes, and I've been expecting you for some time. I simply wasn't certain when you'd arrive, or how you'd get here.”
With that said, she turned sideways and motioned a hand in invitation, asking, “Would you come inside?”
Uncertain, Mathias glanced from the Priestess to Artair—who didn't look at all interested in the unfolding scene—and back again, questioning how she knew his name, and why she'd expected him. Yet it was entirely possible that magic was involved, particularly considering how little was known of this woman as a person.
To assume the role of Grand Priestess, she'd cast off her birth name and all other traces of personal identity to embody the goddess Kalara and better represent her interests.
Beyond that, she was largely mysterious.
Still, it seemed likely that the deity had provided several boons in return for her service, one of which could've been foresight. The thought restored some hope that he hadn't actually wasted his time training in the effort of being blooded.
So he accepted her invitation, walking inside as the Priestess waved Artair away.
The blooded male departed without qualm, allowing her to shut the doors as Mathias looked around, finding her personal quarters to be just as lavish as the rest of the Citadel.
A canopied bed stood at the far side of the room with too many silk sheets and pillows to count, veiled behind sheer green and purple drapes. A vanity sat against the left wall next to a balcony with its doors propped open, and a tall cabinet containing various types of spirits stood to the right.
Quietly, the Priestess walked over to access the contents, pulling out a bottle and two silver chalices with the obvious intentions of pouring them both a drink. He couldn't say the prospect wasn't welcome either as the spirits would dull his pain.
“You'll have to forgive Artair,” she started in the process of filling the cups. “As the first of the blooded, he's … protective of me.”
“So I noticed,” Mathias drew out wryly, not angered in the slightest by Artair's actions. Holding a grudge against one of the blooded would've been foolish anyway—not only was their strength several times that of a mortal's, it was also their duty to see to the Grand Priestess' safety.
Proving she knew it, the Priestess chuckled, explaining, “For as skilled a warrior as he's become, his social graces leave something to be desired. But forget him for now. Instead, tell me, how did you fair handling a griffin in flight?”
Absently reaching for his injured side, Mathias remarked, “It was shaky, the landing rough, but nothing happened that I couldn't handle.�
��
Taking the chalices in hand, the Priestess turned around to face him and held one out with a sympathetic, but impressed smile. “Not many would even be standing here now. Griffins are fiercely loyal to their caretakers, but they're powerful beasts nonetheless.”
Accepting the cup, Mathias eyed her curiously, finding the casual talk welcome, but strange. Against all odds, he'd accomplished his goals, found the Grand Priestess, and now had a chance to ask what fate awaited him.
Yet he hadn't expected things to go so … smoothly.
Perhaps he'd put so much importance on proving his worth that having such a nonchalant conversation with the woman seemed out of place. Still, he accepted her hospitality and lifted the cup to his mouth with the intentions of drinking every last drop, finding the spirit surprisingly smooth.
Sadly, swallowing in large amounts was a chore, and he attempted to hide his discomfort by keeping his breathing shallow. But the forced movements didn't fool his host, who looked him over and shook her head.
“No, this won't do,” she started, settling her drink on a small table nearby, then turned to reach for his belt.
Of all the things Mathias imagined might happen after finding this woman, watching her open the ties of his blue tunic to reveal his torso wasn't precisely at the top of the list. Yet here they were, and she had no compunctions over pressing her hand against his injured side.
Instinctively, he cringed as she clutched the tender area to knead, expecting a wave of pain—but it never came.
Instead, the result was a wash of relief.
Somehow, the ache alleviated instantly under her touch, allowing Mathias to breathe more easily. In turn, looking down to watch revealed her gazing up at him with a caring expression on her face.
“I trust that's better?”
Lost in her gaze, he absently nodded while admiring her beauty, though his attention quickly centered on her green eyes. Being so close now, he realized a part of their luster came from two luminous circlets of light, one in each eye like tiny halos radiating warmth.
Tempting Eternity Page 1
