Warrior

by Jana LaPelle

  Warrior

  BOOK FOUR

  A Realms of the Otherworld Book

  By

  JANA LaPELLE

  Text Copyright © 2019 Jana LaPelle

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental. Any references to historical events, real people, etc. are used fictitiously.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the express written permission of the author.

  All Rights Reserved.

  Cover design by: www.ebooklaunch.com

  Dedication and Acknowledgements

  To my son Jonathan Gabriel, you have become my plot collaborator and my biggest fan. You have helped me get past quite a few writing blocks as Warrior came to an end. We need to take more road trips together, that’s where we do our best story plotting. I’ve said it before, and I will say it again. You are my inspiration, and I’m truly blessed to have you in my life. I love you beyond measure, little man.

  To my readers, thank you all for your wonderful, kind words. I love hearing from each and every one of you. Your support means the world to me. I certainly hope that Warrior is all you hoped it would be.

  Warrior

  Part 1

  Before you get started, have you checked out the Glossary of Irish Gaelic Terms? It’s there as a reference for you, the reader. Also, check out the Glossary of Irish Mythology. Now onto the continuation of Ashlinn and Alaric’s story.

  Precursor

  (Morríganna, The Morrígan)

  I never thought in all my years that my arch nemesis would end up being a teenage goddess with no memories of her previous life. She has no memories of who we were to one another in The Overworld. That was a different life and we are different people now. I ponder that one fact that has been eating away at me for some time now as I take a sip of the succulent red wine in the pewter goblet in my grasp. I savor the taste of it on my tongue and exhale slowly, allowing for a moment the simple action to soothe my angst. Moment over. Are you freaking kidding me?! Everything that she is and stands for is beneath me, and that is why my Creator’s betrayal stings so profoundly. He chose to pit me against her, someone so decent and pure, so utterly, gah… I have no words! She is so utterly angelic and pure of heart it nauseates me. I underestimated her once, and it cost me dearly. I would have been much further along with my plots if not for my botched plans with The Tree of Life, but after last night’s gain, I’ll be back on track very soon. Everything this time around is going according to plan, and my plans are the only ones that matter. My Fomorian army of stolen orphans follow me without question, I made sure that they were taken at an impressionable age, even the lowly humans do not question my lead. They are pathetic but will serve their purpose when the time comes. I will use the weak mortals as my pawns in my well thought out game of chess in the war to come. I have them all eating out of the palm of my hand, including my sisters Badb and Macha. They never had any vision, I was always the visionary. Me! I take another swallow of my wine and savor the taste as the robust flavors roll over my tongue. The flavor soothes my weary soul as I tune into the calming effects of the alcohol coursing through my system. Once I am queen over all the realms, they will bow to me just like everyone else. My sisters are nothing more than a means to an end. There can be only one queen, and I do not intend to share the position. If they don’t step in line, then they will suffer the same fate as our dear older sister. Neamhain was always a thorn in my side, never wanting to follow my lead, never giving me the respect that I deserved, always trying to sway me from my course. I showed her! Together, my sisters and I scattered her essence across The Realm over a hundred years ago, and my pathetic sisters have been following my lead ever since. To my knowledge, Neamhain remains in the same state, somewhere in between, in limbo. The last thing I need is for her to show up and mess with my plans now. That would never do. Her reappearance could cause all my plans to unravel. I wish with every fiber of my being that I could have ended Neamhain once and for all but that was not to be, and I’m sure at some point that will come back to bite me in the ass. I will have to deal with her if and when the day comes.

  My mind drifts back to my failed attempt to gain control of The Tree of Life. It was always going to be a long shot, one that would have paid off handsomely if it had not been for that little twit and the master plan that she cooked up with our Father, our Creator. Well, I have moved on past the betrayal of it all, I now know where I stand in the grand scheme of things. After last night’s success and my unexpected prize, I might just gain control of The Tree of Life yet. The horrified look on Ashlinn’s face was the last thing I saw before the trace trail closed with Alaric at the end of Vengeance. My whip and weapon of choice, he was completely and entirely at my mercy just before her well-placed dagger impaled my shoulder. I have to give her credit, I didn’t think she had it in her, and I now know that she will not hesitate to end me if given a chance to free her kindred or in the war to come. The thought of Alaric definitely brightens this dreary morning. He certainly was an unexpected twist to my best-laid plans. Although I knew from my conversation with Lugh that he would be letting the little Keeper in on the crypt’s location, I have no illusions as to were his allegiance lies. Lugh may have given me what I wanted, but he is aligning with the light, it matters not, he has served his purpose, and I planned last night’s encounter very well thanks to him. My surprise diversion for Ashlinn’s pitiful little ragtag crew went off without a hitch, just the way I wanted it to, the delay was enough to give us time to raise my Lainn, my lost lover from The Underworld and our losses were minimal.

  My gaze wanders over the form of the sizeable slumbering demigod in my bed. He is all hard lines and solid muscle, I had forgotten how good we are together, and my heart softens. I always did have a soft spot for him. Of all my lovers he was my favorite, but then he met that cheating bitch, Fandra, who just so happen to be his kindred and then he only had eyes for her. She was the reason Lainn left me, and I vowed then and there to make her pay. As soon as I realized who she was, I immediately sent word to my brother, Manannán, the sea god. Fandra belonged to him after all, even if their union was not a happy one. I thought with her out of the way Lainn and I could be together again, but Cú Chulainn was never the same again. He declined all my advances after Manannán killed Fandra, until last night. Once he finally woke, he welcomed me back into his bed with open arms. No seduction was required, it was as if no time had passed from our last union, and his appetite for me was ravenous. Smiling wickedly, I relish the memory of his homecoming. He and I will rule all The Realms together, he will be my king. I can think of no one better suited to stand by my side and to bed me night after night. His touch thrills me beyond measure. He swore his fealty to me while in the throes of passion. He incites an inferno within me, and I intend to use that passion to further my foothold within The Realm. It matters not that he called out Fandra’s name more than once as we came together over and over again last night. Soon she will be a forgotten memory, once he drinks of my elixir, he will do my bidding and mine alone, and then no other’s name will dare cross his lips while we ravage one another. I see now that it is the only way, and then he will finally belong to me and only me.

  My focus shifts back to my most unexpected, but certainly most treasured prize from not more than eight hours ago. I slip out of bed and pull on a sheer black dressing gown over my naked form. Walking out on to the balcony, I oversee my warriors in training as I contemplate my spoils of war. Momentarily I’m distracted as I watch males and females alike gathered below in my hidden mountain fortress. The late morning sky is dark, a storm is brewing. By all that is unholy, I love the weather here, it suits my mood, turbule
nt thoughts, and dark nature. In the distance lightning cracks the sky open, and thunder rumbles through the air. The wind is picking up, and my midnight black tresses ride the air currents around me, my hair whipping about. My gown is plastered to my form as I turn to take in my fortress. It has taken nearly ten years to have the mountainside carved out to make my obsidian castle. The dwarfs certainly know what they are about, their craftsmanship is beyond compare. No one would ever think to look for me here so close to the once active volcano. My fortress walls gleam black with veins of dark red. The glistening walls look as if they are bleeding, and I embrace the symbolism. Soon blood will run in rivers over the fields of Faerie, and my army will defeat my enemies. For now, my majic wielders have placed complicated wards that are strengthened periodically to keep intruders at bay and hide us from view from any who are looking to find my lair, and I know she is frantically searching for what is hers. Thanks to the wards, I know exactly how many times she has attempted to find her kindred only to be rebuffed. Which brings me back to Alaric. My last memory of him is one of his back laid open. The wounds that I inflicted were angry bleeding welts crisscrossing and lining his once flawless skin. I feel a cruel smile slide into place at the memory. I have plans for the handsome god locked in the dungeons below. By the time I’m done with him, that little meddling wench will not recognize her kindred on any level. He may not bend to my will easily but after a few weeks with his talents nullified he will grovel at my feet for relief and then I will have my revenge on that she-bitch for standing in my way. No one stands in my way! Not now! Not anymore, not ever again! I will take pleasure in bending him to my will, and by the time I’m done with him and everyone else in The Realms, no one will dare defy my reign. Laughter bubbles up out of me at the very thought of everyone bowing down to me. It will be so, I will accept no other outcome. I will have Ashlinn on her knees groveling before me for all she holds dear to be granted leniency where none will be awarded.

  The bitch belongs to me.

  Chapter 1

  (Alaric)

  I have no idea as to how long I’ve been kept in this dark and desolate dungeon. It could be hours, it could be days, or longer still. My sense of time is skewed like never before. Her wicked highness comes to see me at least once a day, maybe more, or perhaps it is just hours since her last visit. I have no idea. Our interludes consist of her attempting to persuade me to her side, and when her wanton seduction fails, she flogs me, visit after visit. By the gods, I hate that whip of hers, it is aptly named, Vengeance. She has wrought vengeance on my back repeatedly, and I will forever wear the scars of my time here. She has taken to marking my legs and arms now as well. I have been stripped of all my clothing except my briefs in an effort to degrade and humiliate me. A shiver racks my body as the cold of my cell seeps into my very bones. What will be next? In her sick and depraved mind, she wants to ensure that Ashlinn cannot stomach the sight of me, if and when we reunite. I can’t think that way, to do so is to give my captor power, and I’ll be damned if I do that. She doesn’t understand what it is to have a kindred and she never will, karma’s a bitch like that. Ashlinn would never look at me in disgust, but she may look at me with pity, and that is what I fear most. The torture that I have endured has left me a changed male. I will never again take for granted a single solitary day with my family. I now know that Ashlinn deserves so much better than me, she always has, but there is not anyone in the realms that I think deserves her, she is so much better than us all. There are times after the beatings that I don’t feel like I’m strong enough to be her kindred, her Guardian. Each day, I have to mentally strengthen my resolve after every encounter with the whip-wielding bitch. I know that my warring thoughts on this matter are more than likely a result of my shackles.

  I miss my kindred bond, but I latch on to what is there just like I told Ashlinn I would do in my parting letter to her. I know that the shackles I wear are blocking our connection. Our bond is out of reach because of these accursed cuffs. Once they were placed on me, it was if they majically became one piece of metal, no seams or keyholes are visible, and the bands fit snugly enough that there is no way to slip them over my hands. I haven’t been the same since they were placed on my wrists. It’s as if I’m weighed down, not only physically but mentally and emotionally as well. Maybe that’s a good thing that we cannot connect through our bond. She does not need to understand the depths of my torture thus far. The Morrígan is truly an evil and wicked soul. Her perception is one of cruel and evil intent. I’m pretty sure she has let the darkness overtake her heart. By the goddess, I miss Ashlinn and her light, I miss our twins, but above all else, I miss being in control of my destiny, and I need to find a way to take back that control, I need to find a way to get away from The Morrígan.

  No wonder why Ashlinn was so concerned. It makes sense now. My destiny is not my own as long as I’m within The Morrígan’s control and neither is Ashlinn’s. I sink down on my knees as that realization takes hold and I cradle my head in my hands and pray. I pray for strength to endure what is to come and I pray that Ashlinn and the babes are safe. I pray that I can survive this torture until I can find a way out from her wicked clutches. That’s when I hear it, a whisper in the back of my mind, “Stay strong, Alaric. Reprieve is coming.” The voice sounds familiar, but I can’t place it, and I can only hope that it speaks truth.

  From a distance, I hear her wicked highness stomping my way, and she is pissed from the sound of her voice, “How dare you come here and demand to take my prisoner, I won him fair and square. He belongs to me now.” Her voice screeches and echoes down the hall towards me. I still and slump over and pretend to be asleep as I listen to the exchange with hooded eyes. The movement causes the wounds on my back to break open and weep, and I inhale sharply at the searing pain.

  “What did you expect Morríganna? That I would not want recompense for what you took from me? Hell, what you did tore a rift between our realms. There will be long-lasting repercussions from your actions. I think a soul for a soul is a pretty good deal at this point. It’s your choice. I stand to lose much more than just a single soul from your actions, and you know it. You can’t just think that you can take from me and I will not- “

  “But I won him fair and square. That little bitch does not deserve to get him back so soon. It’s only been three days!” She shrieks and stomps her boot-clad foot, and the sound reverberates around my chamber.

  Three days, that’s as long as it has been. It has felt more like three months at times. I cautiously look up to see Morríganna and someone I have never seen before. The vibes coming off of him are intense, and I sense darkness within him. For all the darkness within, his appearance is one of all light. His hair is light, almost white it’s so blonde, his eyes a piercing crystal blue, he’s wearing black leather pants and boots and not much else, his tan chest and arms are bare sporting multiple tribal Celtic tattoos. He looks human, but I know that he is so much more. In my current condition, I can’t take him out, the male is large and heavily muscled. I watch as the two continue their exchange just outside the barred door to my cell.

  “A soul for a soul Morríganna, I will not settle for less, little sister. It’s like you don’t know me at all, I have no intention of handing Alaric over to his kindred, but I will have recompense. You ripped Cú Chulainn from my grasp and refuse to give him back, you have no idea how much I enjoyed his depravity, be grateful that I’m in a bargaining mood. Otherwise, your precious Lainn would be going back with me along with this young god.”

  “Luc, you know this is unfair. He is my prize, my spoils of war! Why would you strip him from me? I’ve not had nearly enough time with him.” Morríganna’s tone has turned pleading.

  “Because I can! Do not try me on this. You will not be pleased with the outcome. It’s as if you do not realize the consequences of your actions. Sister, you have torn a rift between the realms, The Underworld will become unstable before long releasing the dead, the demons and the fallen. What were y
ou thinking? I no longer understand where your allegiance lies Morríganna. You must find a way to fix what you have wrought. In the meantime, I think it is time for you to hand over the young god, it is a fair exchange for all the problems you have caused me.”

  “Luc, come away from here, let me show you what I have been working on since your last visit from The Underworld, I think you will be impressed with my army and all those who stand with me. It would be counter-intuitive to take Alaric from me now. Don’t you see, Ashlinn can be bent to my will now that I have her kindred, the father of her children. I will soon be able to control the little Keeper, and in doing so The Tree of Life.” Her tone has become seductive and persuasive as she circles Luc, running her fingers over the broad expanse of his chest before lingering on his biceps. Her wanton seduction is disturbing on so many levels. Didn’t he just call her sister?

  “Morríganna, you seek to control too much. Mark my words if you continue down this path it will lead to your destruction,” Luc says as he plucks her hands from his arm.

  “I want my due, Luc, and I will have it. You have dominion over The Underworld, you don’t understand what it is like to be discarded and left to rot in this realm.” She whines, and I inwardly cringe at the grating sound of her voice.

  His eyes narrow on the deranged goddess before he responds, his tone low and threatening, “Don’t I? I was Father’s right hand in The Overworld, and because of my arrogance and pride I fell from grace, and I’m now one of the Fallen. Forever barred from returning to Nirvana. It has taken me eons to finally understand my place in the universe, and I now embrace the role that I must play for there to be balance. That does not mean that I can’t indulge in a little fun now and then, but Morríganna, you covet too much. Lest I remind you that you chose to come to this realm and gave up your angelic wings to become a goddess. You did not fall to have your wings stripped from you, but you are in danger of falling yet.”