Corruption of the Rose
Page 1
Corruption of the Rose
S.J. Sanders
Contents
Caution!
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
Epilogue
Author’s Note
Other Works by S.J. Sanders
About the Author
©2020 by Samantha Sanders
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without explicit permission granted in writing from the author.
This book is a work of fiction intended for adult audiences only.
Editor: LY Publishing
Ebook Cover Artist: Cettina Jessica Romano
https://cjromano.net
Paperback Cover Artist/Interior insert art: Pierliugi Abbondanza
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Type facing and cover formatting for paperback: Samantha Rose
Created with Vellum
Caution!
Dear Reader,
Please be advised that this book contains dark elements that pertain to horror as well as some that can be found in the dark romance. This includes not only ravenous monsters (both dangers creatures and the hero himself) but themes such as dubcon, D/s, some kink, and a brief group sex/sharing initiated (although not followed through with). The heroine herself is not sweet or innocent by any measure. If any of these things are a hardline no for you, then you might want to skip this book and wait for my next release in mid-November of The Serein. This book is written as a wicked treat for the Halloween season.
S.J. Sanders
Prologue
It is said that in the time before times, when all things were first created by the primordial ones, that the gods in their wisdom divided the worlds and all races of beings so that each kept to its own, to maintain the balance of life. Some worlds are closer than others. Some lay side by side, their boundaries fluid for easier crossing, even if only accidentally. Others, however, are guarded, and none more so that the world of the dead.
The infernal world is a dangerous place with boundaries carved into stone, each guarded by a creature viler than the last. Thousands of passages and thousands of guards wait to assail the mage, though he might know of only one.
There reside spirits and the souls of the dead who long to escape into the world of the living. They crave the light, but they are ravenous and unfettered as they consume, bringing death and destruction to the living. The boundary to the underworld has manifold guards to keep the living out and the dead within. There, in that realm, lurk many perils. There are spirits who consume emotions, miasma-eaters, destroyers of flesh, and the lost dead who, caught in the illusion of life, rage and grieve endlessly.
These are the dangers awaiting the mage who seeks the higher realms, for he cannot traverse to them without entering through the stone pillars of the earth to the world of the dead. The mage will cross the bridge hung with the seven masks of the primal ones, and face the dangers of the next world, to be rectified in the fires that the metal of the soul be purified in the waters therein and be born anew. Only through strict magic can one breach the veils of the worlds, and only by these processes, together with one’s power and will, are they able to confront the guardians, pass unscathed, and ascend to a new level of being and access the higher worlds.
It happened that, in ages past, a fissure appeared between the worlds deep within the Urgal Mountains, in the heart of the stone. From this crevice creatures of the underworld slipped into the human world, and death spread from the mountain. There was much despair among men until an alchemist and learned mage, Darthar of Ironhill, descended into that madness and confronted the daemons and hungry ghosts of the mountain. For years, he stayed among them, his being flayed as he wrestled control over the powers.
When he appeared from the mountain, a hundred years had gone by. All took note that by some miracle he hadn’t aged even a day. Hailed as blessed by the gods, he selected from among a village the best of the men and took them back through the stone pillars of the mountain. He led them down into the darkness of the underworld, and the hearts of the men were pierced by a blade of fire, washed in the primal waters, and transmuted into bestia, bestial monstrosities made to serve but one purpose: to guard the world of the living.
Know this: the bestia do not tolerate the world of men. If you seek to unravel the mysteries of the underworld with your magic and walk the mystic path over the bridge of worlds, between the stone columns of the Urgal Mountains, beware the fury of the bestia. They do not pity, and destroy all within their path…
“Bah, such nonsense,” Rose muttered, slamming the book shut with enough force that it attracted the attention of her Master looming at the fore of the study, overseeing the work of his other two apprentices.
Master Carwit raised one thick eyebrow in her direction, tucking his hands behind his back.
“Is there a problem, Apprentice Almander?” he asked, his smooth voice raising not even the slightest in volume as it traversed the space between them easily.
Rose tucked a loose lock of curls that had escaped her coiffure behind her ear and met his cool gaze. It disturbed her just how cold and unaffected his eyes were. As a Master of Water, the elemental nature and discipline she herself shared, she had expected more depth and emotion… something more than that cold, impenetrable regard. It unsettled her, especially when he pinned that gaze on her whenever she behaved in a manner of which he disapproved. He didn’t react otherwise, regardless of whether he approved or not. At least not in a way that was visible on the surface. He just penetrated her with his icy stare.
Smoothing her hands over the aged cover of the book, she drew in a breath.
“As a matter of fact, there is. I appreciate that there are considerable disciplines that one must learn, but a tome that appears to be largely on the bestia, creatures which are nothing more than fancy and the lore of the superstitious, I find it all rather demeaning.”
“You do not see the message therein regarding the bestia and the warning they represent to those who traverse the first steps of the alchemy of the soul? Do you find it laughable that there are dangers inherent in the first stage in which descent places you within the crucible of transformation?”
The conversational calm in his voice didn’t falter, and Rose shifted in her seat, aware of the gaze of the other apprentices on her. Lifting her chin, she met his gaze squarely.
“I think many of the dangers are metaphors, and merely monsters that are present within our own minds. Only the weak are prey to them,” she said.
“Ah, I see,” he murmured. “How fascinating that sixteen years of life has conferred such wisdom. I sincerely hope that all the monsters you encounter in your journey bow to your expert knowledge on their nature, and that you never have the misfortune to meet with a
bestia.” As he turned and strode away, his voice echoed through the room. “You have great potential, Rose Almander… if you are wise in your undertakings.”
His rebuke, though delivered in the same even keel as always, stung with the obvious dressing down intended. Rose blushed under the laughter of her peers. Steeling her spine, she met her Master’s gaze.
“I will conquer whatever is put before me and bend it to my will. I will charm it and tame it so that it will carry me forth. I do not fear the bestia, for they do not truly exist.”
Chapter 1
Rose frowned in concentration as she watched droplets of purified essence drip from the tube emerging from the cooling tank into the blue glass container. In the low light of her laboratory, each bead of liquid shimmered like the precious jewel it was. Refining the purest oils was what made her perfumes so extraordinary. Well, that and a little bit of magic. That was what kept clients returning again and again to her little shop.
The Divine Order of Mages could send themselves into the great inferno for all she cared. Dismissing her and stripping her of all her titles… They would have stripped her of her powers ceremonially too if she hadn’t gotten wind of it and fled the conservatory. The storm she summoned to shield her escape as she took a carriage through the driving winds and rains remained fresh in her memory. It threatened to surface, but she pushed it back down again. She couldn’t afford to be distracted from her work.
This was all she had left, although the coin it brought in was more than enough to soothe her wounded pride following her expulsion.
Expelled for a thirst for more knowledge, of all things.
For a mage aligned with the element of water, blood magic was the most intimate expression of water in life. She had already experimented with influencing the flow of water within plants, as well as the emotional manipulation of the waters of the subconscious mind with sounds, vibration, and subtle magic. It was only natural that she should apply her experiments to the bodily waters of animal lifeforms. If the soul could reach quintessence, why couldn’t the body reach a new, higher form?
The ridiculous bestia lore aside, the transformation of physical matter was evident in nature everywhere. It was part of the nature of water itself. As water was at the root of all living things, life itself was capable of great transformations. That much could be seen in distilling plant essences. This process allowed her to collect the purest physical form of the plant, divided from its original form.
There had to be a way that it could be done and derive the true nature of men without complete destruction.
Wasn’t that the base of the lore? There was an assumption that on some level it could be done. And for some reason, it was obscured by terrors. She didn’t understand what all the fuss was about in regard to her experiments. Her selected specimens were small, inconsequential creatures—but even so, she avoided harming her experimental subjects. There was certainly no danger of her trying to create bestia to terrorize humanity.
She held back a derisive snort. Sounds and vibrations could have an unfortunate effect on magic when unintended. Sound contained power. Her focus was divided enough, despite her best interest. It was to be expected though. It was the tenth-year anniversary since that terrible day. It was only natural that it would be on her mind when she was an outcast without any crime committed.
It wasn’t like she was trying to make monsters.
Even if Rose believed such superstitious drivel, her aim had always been the transmutation of a physical being in life. Immortality of the flesh, undying, rather than just the elevation of the spiritual body. A mage’s magic increased significantly with the latter, so who could say what might happen if the former were achieved?
Perhaps that was what the order feared—an immortal mage with greater power than they possessed. It could be a root of the study of the tales, a fable to keep students from moving into an area of power considered taboo. Mages had long lives to begin with. They wouldn’t tolerate one who surpassed even the greatest of adepts.
But that was another life, one no longer within her reach. It would be impossible for her to duplicate now with what she had available. Each part of the process took meticulous care, as much as the spiritual journey of the mage or even so much as her beloved plants. Each phase required its own equipment, ritual, and incantations. Fleeing for her life had left her with little except her skill with plants and enough gold to get simple lab equipment and pay her rent on her lab and adjoining apartment. It saddened her to think of all of her equipment, books, and notes that were left abandoned at the conservatory when she fled. Her former Master likely put them all to fire for her daring.
She was content with her perfumery and compensated well for her products. It was at least one good thing that had come of her years of training.
A smile curved her mouth as the last drop of essence rolled out of the tube, into the bottle, and the final incantation fell from her lips. The final product glowed softly, the oil making a slick sheen on the surface of the water carrier. With a careful hand, Rose separated the oil into a vial and sealed it. She marked the cork with ink and set it among the other vials.
The door rattled as someone knocked, and Rose sighed as she eased off her gloves and removed her apron before setting both aside.
“Enter,” she said, raising her voice just loud enough to be heard on the other side.
The young man she employed as her assistant stepped inside, his dark clothing making him appear all the more somber than the overly anxious male already tended to be.
Raising her eyebrow, she turned back to her equipment and began the arduous process of disassembling and cleaning it.
“What do you require, Alexi?”
He fidgeted, his dark hair falling over his eyes in something of a poetic fashion. He really was a vision, although much too young for her with his seventeen years compared to her thirty. Still, the visual artistry of his presence was worth keeping him around.
“You have a client, Mistress,” he replied quietly.
Her other brow raised. “And? Do I not employ you to see to the orders and books?”
“Indeed, Mistress… who I faithfully see to. This client is perhaps one you wish to take yourself. They bear the royal insignia from the palace.”
“Really.”
Rose pursed her lips. She had traveled through many kingdoms and was never particularly impressed with any monarch, at least not enough to dance to attention on them.
“They produced a generous bag of coins, Mistress,” he added quickly. “The client is inquiring after a very special purchase for his lady.”
Ah. Well, that changed matters. She didn’t like doing business with royals. Too many of them had the terrible personality trait of being tight-fisted with their coin, expecting special offers due to their station. She much preferred dealing with merchants. They made the best clients, with their propensity to lavish their wives and lovers with expensive gifts, as well as ordering their own products to sell. All that, she was happy to do and more—for the right coin. A representative of a royal with coin was new and therefore intriguing and worthy of her time.
“Very well, Alexi. See to your books, and I will tend to our prospective client,” she said firmly as she brushed past him into the short hall that led to the shop.
Alexi followed her out of the room like a wraith, separating himself from her shadow to take a seat at a desk along one wall where he opened a thick ledger. He gave no further attention to the client browsing perfumes lining one wall.
The man who stood there looked completely out of place. He was extra tall and thick with muscle, and yet by his manner of dress and the rich material draping his frame, it only accentuated the natural grace of his every movement as he inspected her stock. Rose took a moment to admire him as he bent closer to a bottle, a dark lock of hair falling over his eyes.
At the sound of her approaching footsteps, the icy blue turned toward her, his narrow lips thinning as he straightened and looked o
ver her. Rose resisted the impulse to tidy her unruly hair and smooth her wrinkled gown.
This was why she didn’t deal with clients personally. The tedium of being appropriately attired when she spent so much of the day locked in her lab was ill-suited to her temperament. She was more interested in her work than social niceties. A frizzy red lock chose that moment to slip down over her eyes, and she brushed it away impatiently as she forced a smile to her lips.
“Welcome to the Syreni Unguentariam. I am Rose Almander. My assistant mentioned that you are looking for something special?”
“Yes,” he replied, his smooth, deep tones washing over her despite the way his nose wrinkled. He adjusted the sleeves of his overcoat as he faced her. “I have been sent to speak with the proprietress of this establishment personally on behalf of the queen. I confess that, given the high reputation of this establishment, I expected something a bit less… less in its proprietress.”
Rose resisted the urge to curse the gentleman into the next century and widened her smile. “I confess my assistant is the more dapper of the pair of us, one of the reasons he was hired, along with his outstanding ability with sums and penmanship. If you want pretty drapery, you should have stuck to speaking your business with him instead of summoning me forth from my lab. This is a rare exception I am granting you, so you will have to pardon my rough appearance coming from my work.”