The Goddess and The Guardians Boxset: The Complete Romantic Fantasy Quartet

by Karen Tomlinson

  Distracted as he was, the Lord of Chaos did not see Diamond move. Clutching the blade, Eryanth had dropped, she thrust it into her enemy’s neck. She stabbed again and again. Thick, black blood oozed from the wounds she inflicted, splattering her face and hand.

  Erebos yelled and brought his own knife down. The blade plunged into her upper back.

  Diamond’s scream ripped at Eryanth’s soul. The small knife fell from her fingers. Instead of dropping to the ground, his mate forced her body upright and punched her enemy’s jaw.

  Eryanth’s heart clenched. She would fight even without magic, even knowing she was doomed. She kicked and struck, blood running down her back and soaking her flimsy clothing.

  Erebos merely snarled at her mortal efforts and grabbed her hair, thrusting her sideways.

  Green magic surged around Diamond. Then red. A shout told Eryanth that the wizards were amassing around his soulmate too.

  Rayan cast as he ran, Elexon by his side. Together they created a wall of solid magic from the blue sand and heat of red magic. It surrounded Diamond and Attion. In front of that wall, wizard warriors fought alongside the red fae.

  Eryanth’s chest tightened at that show of unity.

  Erebos snarled and threw a wall of shadow at Diamond. Unity prevailed. The fortified shield cracked but did not break. He roared, opening his arms wide. Then inhaled. The fallen began to spasm. Erebos sucked in their screaming souls until their dead bodies moved to his command, rising to their feet. Shouts of disbelief and horror filled the air as the allied warriors found themselves fighting a horde of their dead friends and comrades.

  Eryanth knew he had to do something. Head down, he dived at full speed towards Erebos. Close enough to whip the sand into a frenzy, he threw out his wings to arrest his fall and slammed his rear talons into the dark god. With a roar that shook the earth, he threw the body sideways.

  Erebos collided with a sand dune. Chuckling, he merely pushed himself up. With exaggerated movements he brushed the sand off his shoulders. He did not even bleed from the ragged wounds that marred his flesh. Still laughing, the Lord of Chaos was suddenly airborne and heading right at Eryanth.

  It seemed the god did not need wings to fly. Shadow and magic took him where he wanted to go.

  They collided, shadow fighting shadow.

  Eryanth swiped at the body that had once been his. Each wound he inflicted healed instantly.

  Not so Eryanth’s body. Even his hardened scales were succumbing to the constant barrage of dark magic. With powerful strokes, he propelled his body upward. High, where the air was clean and thin, he rolled—only to find himself surrounded in shadow. He thrashed against it as it formed swords and daggers, slashing at his eyes and limbs. Swathes of obsidian mist seeped between his scales, only to grow fangs and pierce his flesh.

  He yanked on his own magic and it surged to his command. Serpents and swords rose to defend him.

  The guardian and the Lord of Chaos fought; shadow against shadow battling until Eryanth’s huge lungs burned with effort.

  Directly below them Diamond had left her prison of safety and was running to the apex of the dune. She fought as fiercely as he had ever seen. Attion, Tawne and the white-haired wizard banded together alongside her. Blood smeared Diamond’s back and clothes and she moved stiffly.

  Erebos saw her run. He vanished, disappearing into a dark haze.

  Eryanth held his position, flapping his great wings. The only way to slow down Erebos long enough to end this battle was to rip his body—Hugo’s body—to shreds; even decapitation would not rid them of the god indefinitely.

  Erebos reformed, hovering above the small group of fighters. He opened his arms wide and chanted. Dust Devils swirled toward Diamond and her warriors until they were surrounded.

  Eryanth’s blood burned with fear and rage as he beheld the numbers of enemy soldiers spread across the blue dunes. Spells and magic scorched the air as wizard and fae worked together to kill the Ashmea and Dust Devils.

  They are too many!

  Eryanth screeched and dived, wishing for the fire he had seen spew from Sulphurious’ throat. No! He had not survived Chaos only to witness Diamond die. He opened his mouth wide and roared.

  Only to receive an answering roar.

  Snapping out his wings, he brought his great body to a halt—and roared again. Whipping his body around in the direction of yet another answering bellow, he surveyed the crystal clear skies. Nothing. Below him, the air shimmered and he found himself looking down on an army of warrior wizards. He blinked as more and more appeared. At the head of the appearing army stood a white-haired man. Unlike the others, who were dressed in crimson and black, he was dressed in crimson and gold. Magic already charged from his hands, his face contorted with rage.

  The High Wizard!

  That magic gathered speed, picking up the sand as it travelled toward the white-haired young man fighting by Diamond’s side. It slammed into an Ashmea, sending it skyborne. Others tumbled, their dark bodies thrown about like leaves in a storm. The High Wizard spat his spells, crashing the monsters together before turning that wave of sand solid. It encased them up to their shoulders.

  “The third spine, father!” Rayan roared.

  The Ashmea thrashed against the restraint, screeching and spitting.

  Hate twisted the High Wizard’s features. He pulled his sword, the blade glinting viciously. “You heard my son. Kill them. Ensure your men know their weakness is on their spines. Do it! And get more men down near my son. If Prince Rayan dies, so will you.” Without looking to see if his men followed his orders, the High Wizard strode to the three trapped Ashmea. He cocked his head, smiled viciously and cleaved them in two, not caring about the blood spattering his expensive robes.

  Another roar, closer this time.

  Eryanth whipped his head in the other direction. What he saw caused the rhythm of his wings to falter.

  A large shadow glided on the horizon.

  A dragon!

  Below it a storm of dust rose. Men and horses, he realised quickly. The creature roared again and Eryanth felt his magic respond. He snorted hot breath from his nostrils, not sure if this were an illusion.

  Erebos snarled before turning back to mist and heading toward Diamond.

  Eryanth refocused on his mate and propelled himself down, tugging on their soul bond for all he was worth—trying to warn her. All he succeeded in doing was distracting her. She staggered and fell to her knees.

  He screeched his anxiety.

  A Dust Devil lumbered forward, raised its barbed sword and brought it down towards her exposed neck.

  Eryanth’s world paused. Thundering a bellow of grief that rocked the dunes, he pulled his wings into his back and dove like an arrow. He would kill every last one of them. But the sword did not reach Diamond’s neck; it clashed against Rayan’s blade. The wizard switched his weight, kicked the Dust Devil away and swung again. His strike was powerful and true. Dust exploded. Rayan did not wait for it to clear before helping Diamond to her feet.

  Eryanth wanted to thank the wizard, but jealousy burned through him when Rayan reached out to touch her cheek where a bruise was appearing.

  Wind rushed by him, dragging at his wings and searing his eyes. He dropped his inner lids to protect them and pushed harder. Ahead of him, Erebos slammed his feet into the dune right in front of Diamond. She jumped back, readying her weapons, but there was no hiding the fear in her eyes.

  Rayan, who had his back to the dark god, did not stand a chance. He spun around to face his enemy, words pouring from his mouth, desperately casting even as he registered his impending doom.

  Erebos thrust spears of shadow at Rayan’s body. Most spears glanced aside as a wall of magic appeared in front of the young wizard, though some did not. Rayan yelled as blades of darkness pierced his leg and shoulder.

  “Rayan!” Diamond screamed.

  Erebos snarled and swiped the prince’s body away with a gust of ice-laced wind. Rayan slammed into
the sand twenty feet away.

  “Like I said, you are mine. Your soul is mine. Come to me.”

  Diamond’s face was full of horror as her body complied.

  Eryanth closed in fast; he pushed and pushed, his muscles burning. Another roar rocked the sky. Out of nowhere another dragon swooped in and speared Erebos upon its rear talons. It did not slow, just carried the dark god skyward.

  Eryanth looked down at Diamond, who gaped up at the second dragon.

  He wanted to go to her, but she was not yet safe. He screeched, twisted a wing and banked around, following the other dragon. It did not waste time. It ripped Erebos apart, flinging his lower torso Eryanth’s way, whose claws sank into the soft flesh. His mind, his very being balked at the sensation. This had been him, his body—once.

  The other dragon whirled its golden eyes his way and threw its gruesome prize skyward. Erebos’ scream of rage ended abruptly when the dragon opened its maw and spewed flame, incinerating his body. Eryanth followed the dragon’s example and launched the remaining half skyward. Light and heat seared the air, burning the Lord of Chaos to dust. Eryanth knew this would be a temporary reprieve. Erebos was too strong now. He would be back in another form and, now he knew the extent of their alliance, it would be with a conquering army.

  Fear curled in Eryanth’s belly as he surveyed the devastation below. Unless the sovereigns of the Eight Kingdoms took the war to Erebos, millions would become sustenance for him, their souls doomed to suffer the nightmare of Chaos.

  The other dragon hovered, its wings thudding in the air whilst it contemplated him. Its body was smaller than Eryanth’s. With no horns, it was beautiful and sleek. Gold scales adorned its body, shimmering with shades of purple and pink as varied as a flaming sunset.

  Questions tumbled around Eryanth’s head as he regarded the other guardian. He hovered, silver fire burning across his scales and wings.

  The golden dragon let out a small screech and purposefully looked down to where Diamond fought a small group of Dust Devils alongside Attion.

  The dragon clearly wanted him to go back to his mate. He did not hesitate. There was nowhere else he wanted to be.

  The din of battle was tremendous, even from so high. Soldiers and fae from the Fire Mountains, who had arrived with the guardian, fought alongside the wizards and Elexon’s red warriors. Among the fighting figures he saw blue metal glinting. The metal tattoos marked the Fire Priests. Their black robes swirled like the shadow of his enemy. They dipped and spun and kicked and struck in a way Eryanth had never witnessed before. It was a beautiful and deadly way of fighting.

  The dragon by his side roared.

  He nodded his silver-horned head and dived. It did not follow but headed toward the airborne Ashmea. Elexon and Havron saw it coming and beat their wings to escape as fire ripped up its throat. Flame engulfed the remaining Ashmea, and they were no more.

  Eryanth tempered his jealousy. He would learn how to do that. First, his mate needed him. Or at least he wanted to believe she did. The truth was, even without magic, she had survived this battle and was still fighting with a weapon in each hand. Blood-stained, her back and her clothes were ripped and dirty. Yanking his dragon back, he reverted back to his fae form with a pull on his magic. He did not check his speed, merely used his shadow to land nearby. Snapping out a serpent of shadow, he formed a blade and cleaved her enemy’s head. For a moment, their eyes met. Joy turned to confusion, a deep sadness pervading her violet eyes before she spun away and sprinted for the wizards who encircled the fallen prince.

  Eryanth swallowed his disappointment and hurt.

  “Rayan? Rayan?” she uttered, her voice tight.

  Eryanth stepped around her kneeling form so that he could see her face. This took him to the side of the High Wizard, who chanted as he knelt by his son. A strange haze, very similar to the haze that Firan had once used on Diamond, emanated from the High Wizard’s hands.

  Rayan groaned as the magic delved into his wounds, cauterising them. “Shit. Shit. Shit,” he mumbled over and over, his body as stiff as a board.

  “Settle down, my son. You will soon be healed.”

  “Yes, you will be fine, Rayan. Attion!” Diamond yelled.

  The High Wizard scowled. His nostrils flared and a look of intense dislike shadowed his face before it disappeared, to be replaced by an icy indifference.

  Attion ran over. “Yes, my queen?” he asked, panting slightly.

  “Heal him,” she ordered breathlessly.

  Attion immediately stepped forward.

  “No!” hissed the High Wizard. “I neither need nor want any help to heal my son.” His eyes remained cold as he turned to Diamond. “I know who you are. And you are in my kingdom. Interfere with me or my son again and I will have you removed.”

  Diamond swallowed and lowered her eyes, looking almost ashamed. “I apologise, Lord Wizard. I meant no disrespect. Rayan was kind enough to let my guard learn with your healers, and his green magic is stronger than ever because of that. I just want to help him, to stop his pain.”

  Stop his pain? What the hell? Does she love this wizard? Eryanth’s mind tumbled with questions and doubts. He could not stop the growl that rippled up his throat as she placed a hand upon the prince’s arm.

  Attion looked away, clearly disapproving. His eyes found Eryanth’s. “My king?” he breathed. Immediately, he dropped to one knee. “How do you live? Erebos…he took you. He is you.”

  Eryanth smiled. It warmed his heart to see his friend. “Attion, please, don’t kneel. I will explain everything when...”

  Eryanth’s voice was cut off by the clamour of more people arriving. The wizards held spells near their bodies, suspicion pouring from them. The Fire Priests weaved through the ranks of wizards and fae and walked closer.

  Eryanth did not miss the defensive stance of the black-clad Fire Priests or the fact that their weapons were still in hand. Their tall leader bowed to Diamond.

  “Queen, I am pleased to see you alive,” the tall priest said.

  With a good memory for faces, Eryanth recognised him immediately. The priest had been a slave in Valentia, one who had caught Diamond’s eye the day they had escaped from Elexon. This must be who Firan meant, he decided.

  “Otekah, it is so good to see you. Thank you so much for coming to our aid. I fear we would have been lost without you.”

  The High Wizard scoffed. “I doubt that. My men have magic, his not so. They fight with nothing but their weak mortal bodies…”

  Before the High Wizard could finish his sneering words, a fae warrior dressed in figure hugging purple and gold armour landed elegantly behind Diamond. Her long black hair was secured in a simple braid that reached her waist and her golden wings glinted with thick, scaled armour. She looked to be in her early twenties but carried herself with an air of confidence and assurance that made her seem older. Her face was strong, her nose long and slightly too big for her face, as were her full lips, but it was her eyes that caught Eryanth’s attention—they were stunning. Eryanth’s vision was sharp enough to see the flecks of purple in a sea of green.

  His dragon stirred, almost whining at the proximity to another of its kind. Eryanth’s heart clenched. She was the dragon who has been in the sky. He could feel it calling to his own. His eyes narrowed on the commanding presence of this female fae. He presumed she was an ally, but it never hurt to be careful. He glanced at Elexon and Havron, who instantly nodded and marched to stand behind Attion and the huge wolf that was Tawne.

  Diamond’s throat bobbed and she nodded at them, clearly grateful for their support.

  Eryanth tugged gently on their bond, hoping for a response. His heart soared when he was rewarded with a little glance before Diamond looked away. He tried not to react. At one time he would have marched to her side and warned everyone away, staking his claim to her, but he was not that same person now. Diamond was a queen in her own right. She was strong and brave and would hate him if he interfered on her behalf. It would under
mine whatever she was trying to achieve here, not to mention any hope of her accepting him as he was now.

  An entourage of red—and gold-winged fae landed elegantly in the spaces between the wizards just as a man led a group of ten human soldiers closer.

  The black-haired, fierce looking soldier came to a halt by the golden-winged female’s side. He was slightly taller than her, but not by much. The warrior wore light, leather armour and loose clothing. His gaze was steady and assessing. It rested a moment on Eryanth, his dark head bowing before the soldier swallowed and glanced at the woman. Their fingers grazed slightly. A show of support, or maybe more.

  The atmosphere was volatile, like a boiling pot.

  Sweat trickled down Eryanth’s spine. The sun’s fierce rays did not discriminate between fae, wizard, human or other. He loved the heat, but right now it was overwhelming.

  Diamond’s face was flushed and covered in dust and blood. She proudly lifted her chin and nodded at the newest arrivals before addressing the Fire Priest. “I feared it would be far longer than this before I saw you again,” she said.

  Otekah grinned. “So did I; however, I met the people I intended to visit far sooner than I was expecting. Destiny and fate certainly are watching over you, majesty,” he replied, “for our allies were already on their way to find you.”

  Eryanth kept his magic simmering and pushed shadow into the air. He called upon his dragon, gritting his teeth as his bones stretched and scales appeared across his brow. Knowing where those beautiful blue and silver scales came from gave him a warm feeling inside. Quickly, he pushed thoughts of his father away for later. Firan had returned to his homeland to muster his armies and commanders. It had been a strange experience to feel such sadness when Firan left, but even more strange to know that he would see his father again soon.

  Inside, Eryanth’s dragon thrashed at the prospect of release, of protecting the one they loved from all these armed and powerful beings. Eryanth took control, calming it, though he allowed its head to protrude across the chest plate of the scaled armour that hugged his huge body.

  Eyes widened and there were gasps from the surrounding warriors. He held his satisfied smirk inside. It was good they feared him—they should. Many, including the Fire Priests, slammed an arm across their chests and bowed their heads low, to murmurs of disbelief and awe from others.