Chosen: Book 1 in the Ancients of Light series

by Heather Fleener

  That registered with her at the same time the realization of her surroundings did... they were in the master rooms at Laverock. So many months ago she had taken particular care in decorating the chambers in luxurious splendor and Lorcan’s colors in anticipation that one day he might return with her. In her concern, her own greeting was forgotten when she blurted, “Did the Council come last night and remove you from Breslein? Are we outcasts now?”

  Lorcan tugged on her arm to topple her onto his chest. He offered explanation while embracing her tightly, “The battle at Darkenword was three nights past, Kaitriana. And no, we are not outcasts in either the Vampire or the Witch society.”

  She shifted to peer up at him. Her brow furrowed as she digested the news, “Three nights past? I have slept all this time?”

  Stroking a hand gently through her hair, his tone was grave, “Aye, lass, your wound was serious; it took much time for you to mend. I fed you a few times during your rest, but you never were fully conscious.”

  Kaitriana leaned so that she could peer down at her side; she pulled up the hem of her short silk gown. Seeing only faint pink lines where her skin had been torn open, she dropped the material. Her brow still creased with concern, she questioned, “We have been at Laverock all this time? Why are we here? What has happened?”

  Lorcan grinned over her rapid-fire inquiries and sighed loudly, “It has been very peaceful here. Are you certain you do not need to sleep a few more days?” She puzzled over that, then gained his meaning and narrowed her eyes on him.

  That brought forth a chuckle before he continued his answer, “Laverock is my birthright and it should be our children’s as well. I find I no longer have need to alienate myself from the Witch. My mother betrayed no one and it is time to let go of the past.” His gaze swept over the room, as impressed now with the beauty she had created as when he had first brought her here three nights ago. Stroking her hair, he smiled, “You have created a warm home for us, love. I would like to see little ones roaming these halls again.”

  Dropping a kiss to her temple, Lorcan murmured, “The first joining of the Witch and Vampire was in this place. Laverock should give rise to the new beginning as well. We will remain here; Sayer will be keeping watch over Breslein.”

  Kaitriana was positively beaming and scooted until she was fully atop him. Her hands splayed over his bare chest, “The Light is in full alliance once more.” At his nod of confirmation she whispered, not daring to look up at him, “What of your father, Lorcan?” She could feel him tense beneath her as soon as she spoke the words.

  His voice was thick, laced with anger and she guessed no small amount of hurt when he replied, “Alaric has not yet returned to his Coven. When he does, he will have a choice – he may either join the Dark or leave the Realm. If his desire is to return to the Light, he will give me his vow of loyalty and suffer the punishment that his actions warrant. The Council has been dissolved; they cannot remain in power given that they betrayed the Light at Darkenword. Those other Coven leaders now have the same choice as Alaric. Alexandros, Aidan and Devlin are in agreement with me on this.”

  Kaitriana stroked lightly at the symbol of Light on his arm and asked quietly, “And what of the Witch? Are they truly your partners in this as well?” The look she cast him was almost timid as though she feared his answer.

  Lorcan paused, cupping the back of her head he drew her up until her face was a scant inch above his own, “My father nearly killed you, Witch. Do I still have your love and loyalty?”

  She gave him a quizzical look...how could he doubt it or think that she would blame him? She quickly nodded.

  His lips brushed lightly against hers and his eyes delved into the depths of blue for long moments after he released her. He offered plainly, “Then you need ask the Witch where they are on this, love. The Castes have maintained a vigil in the great hall since I brought you here.”

  She beamed at him and it warmed his heart. She was the one to brush her lips to his then and whisper excitedly, “You allowed the Witch in Laverock?”

  He found her enchanting in her pleasure despite her unkempt appearance. Lorcan merely nodded once before capturing her lips in a longer, hotter kiss. Finally letting her go, he grinned arrogantly over the dark shimmer in her gaze, “The Witch are our allies and your family. They are welcome in our home, Kaitriana.”

  Clapping her hands together with her joy, she allowed herself to return to her distraction created by his searing kiss. Leaning down she nipped at his chest, “I have a craving, Milord.”

  Lorcan’s laughter shook the bed. He grasped her tightly by her arms and moved her from him to the center. Gaining his feet, he looked down to find her glowering with disappointment. He explained his reluctance, “You fought in a battle and then you lay in this bed for three days to recover. You need a bath…sooner than later.”

  Her mouth fell open with a gasp of indignation, which he ignored, “Make yourself presentable Witch and let me escort you downstairs so that the Castes can be assured of your health and remove themselves from my hall.”

  Kaitriana remained unmoving in the center of the bed, giving him a baleful stare. Lorcan folded his arms over his chest and explained patiently, “They are anxious for news of your recovery and the bedding can be changed while I take you below.”

  She was unmoved by it, prompting his smirk, “The sooner you get your stubborn ass below Kaitriana, the sooner I can bring you back up and toss you in that bed.”

  That brought a feisty grin and she scooted quickly to the edge of the bed. He had moved to rummage through one of the chests on the opposite side of the chamber by the time she had made her way toward the bath door. Kaitriana paused to look at him over her shoulder when he called to her. His look was indecipherable when he asked, “You are the Queen of Queens?”

  Her smile was mysterious and her eyes were twinkling when she inclined her head, “Aye. Do you want to offer your pledge to me?”

  Lorcan shook his head at her jest. His fingertips rubbed his chin while he considered this, “And twice on the night of the battle, once to me and once to Alaric, you claimed the Queens were rising. You said it has begun.”

  Kaitriana turned to face him, her smile more devilish now than mysterious, “Do you want me to bathe or do you want to interrogate me endlessly?” The dark look he gave her just made her grin all the more when she confirmed her earlier words, “I said just that, yes.”

  He eyed her skeptically, “There are none in any Caste that come even close to wielding that level of power, Kaitriana.” Lorcan pinned her with the intensity of his gaze.

  She folded her hands in front of her and shrugged, “Perhaps.”

  He raised a brow, “Did you lie?” She shook her head.

  She could see his frustration growing and finally took pity, “I cannot see them yet, so I cannot tell you who they are Lorcan. I can only sense the magical forces within them and I know the advent of the Queens is near. I can neither explain how I know, but I do.”

  Lorcan raised a brow, letting her know that he expected more. Unfortunately she had no more to give him, her words providing more question than answer, “There is much at work within the Realm. You noted that there has been a shift in the energy here. The Queens will come, and together you and I will lead them and all of the Light through whatever may happen. We will end the plaque of the Ancient Dark.”

  Lorcan nodded, informing her casually, “The reason you do not know what you know is because the Seer power comes on you so strongly that it takes you under Kaitriana.” He was pleased that he could pay back her teasing by dropping this little tidbit on her. It was his turn to taunt, “Your Seer persona says the most inappropriately naughty things to me. You do not recall anything when the power overtakes you, do you?”

  Her eyes were wide with panic and her face instantly flaming. Kaitriana bit at her lip and answered only with a small shake of her head. She was holding her breath until she saw his chest begin to shake and his mouth curve with the smi
le he was unable to hold back. She stomped her foot and accused, “You were lying! That is a flaw Vampire…”

  Her indignation only brought forth the full force of his laughter. When Lorcan finally settled himself, he smiled warmly at her, “The Seer magic does overtake you. That is why you do not know what you know or why you know it Kaitriana. We will work to get it more under your control.”

  She loved this teasing nature of his, even when it was at her expense. Kaitriana could hold no grudge and returned an equally warm smile to him, “You are horrid…but thank you for making me aware of what is happening. It is nice to know that there is a reason for my awareness of the Queens.”

  Kaitriana winked at him before turning back towards the bath, sassing as she sauntered away, “If you are dissatisfied with my limited knowledge of the Queens, perhaps you should tap into your own Seer magic and see if your visions are better than mine. I think you should also know that your eyes are veiled in the most beautiful sparkling shade of blue when your magic rises.” The door closed behind her. The last of her taunt was delivered from behind the safety of the locked door, “Yes Vampire…that is what I said…you sparkle.”

  Lorcan was left to shake his head at his impertinent little witch and ponder the significance of her confirmation that the Queens were returning to the Realm and the fact that his magic apparently had the same ability to rise to the level of hers.

  A short time later, he took his beauty below. By the time Kaitriana had finished reassuring the Witch of her well being, the sun had set and the hall had been overrun with his Coven members. The heads of the allied Covens arrived as well, though the leaders that had comprised the remainder of the Vampire Council were still conspicuously absent. None allowed that fact to darken their moods or interfere with their delayed celebration over the victory at Darkenword.

  Kaitriana was surprised by Sayer and his affectionate hug. Lorcan was on the far side of the room engaged in a heated debate with Kendrick when the younger brother presented himself, “I must apologize for leaving you. It is my fault that you suffered such injury and nearly died. I could not forgive myself if you had been lost to Lorcan.”

  Kaitriana gave him a tender smile and then waved off his apology, “Sayer, had you not been defending against Nicholas, we all might well have been blindsided by his attack. In truth, I would have found a way to enter the castle whether you were at my side the entire time or not. I am woefully stubborn, if you had not yet noticed.”

  Her teasing laughter raised his, though she could see that his eyes remained shadowed. His words confirmed it, “I did not abandon you because of Nicholas.” At her probing look, he only gave her a nod of farewell, “I am glad you are well, sister.” Sayer left her abruptly; she could only stare after his retreating form.

  A few seconds later Lorcan’s arm encircled her waist and tugged her back to him, while he dropped his head to whisper in her ear, “Kendrick is a moron.”

  Her laughter bubbled up. She turned in his arms and offered a chiding look, “You are a horrid vampire, Lorcan. Shame on you.”

  Lorcan easily nodded his agreement to that assessment, but his gaze had too been drawn by the withdrawing Sayer, “He feels badly for your injury and blames himself for leaving you. I explained that he was not at fault, that the threat from Nicholas would have caused any other warrior to do the same and rightfully so. He has yet to forgive himself; he is in a dark place.”

  The worry in Lorcan’s tone had her frowning in response and her gaze flitted between the two brothers before she offered softly, “I do not think that is what is weighing on him, Lorcan. He knows he made the correct decision in defending us. There is another cause.”

  Her words caused Lorcan to take another look at his brother and she could see the questions growing within him. Kaitriana answered them the only way she could, “He will seek your counsel when he is ready.” When his gaze came down to hers and it looked as though he might argue, she added, “There was a dark-haired female with Nicholas. Sayer recognized her...called her by name. Do you know who she might have been?”

  Lorcan shook his head and gave his brother a final perusal before looking back down at his female, “No, but I will find out. Sayer will come to me when he is ready, you are correct. You are very smart…for a witch.” He grinned wickedly, tossing in, “Unlike Kendrick, who is a moron.”

  Kaitriana had not the time to express her opposition to the outrageous statement before he was sweeping her tightly against him. His gaze was full of laughter but beginning to flicker darkly, “It is time for you to go to bed, Witch.” She immediately took his meaning and enthusiastically nodded her agreement. Lorcan shadowed her to their chambers and dropped her into the bed, her laughter still ringing.

  The sun had peaked in the sky when Lorcan finally had his fill of his mate and he let her find sleep curled against him. Much had yet to be revealed in the Realm but he looked forward to fulfilling the Prophecy with the little witch at his side.

  ###

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Thank you for joining me on the journey into the Realm with the debut book in the Ancients of Light series. I hope you enjoyed Kaitriana and Lorcan as much as I loved writing about them. They will continue to fulfill their roles as the series moves forward through the remaining stories that will ultimately determine the outcome of Myrrdyn’s Prophecy.

  I hope you will join us for the rest of the adventure.

  Heather

  Connect with me online:

  Visit AncientsofLight.com to learn more about the series.

  Twitter: Heather Fleener

  Facebook: Ancients Of Light

  Goodreads: Heather Fleener

  FORSAKEN

  Loving thy enemy is not always as hard as it seems…

  Turn the page for a sneak peek at Forsaken, Ancients of Light #2, the story of Nicholas, the Warrior of Dark and one fiery witch.

  On sale January 2013

  CHAPTER 1

  Her apartment was brightly lit against the oncoming evening, one of the few extravagances Ella allowed herself. The advent of night had made her anxious as long as she could remember; every light was always on by dusk and remained so until she went to bed. One stayed lit on her bedside table throughout the night.

  Ella was rushing around the tiny bedroom that her small space afforded her. Small was an exaggerated description of her flat on the outer edges of Chicago. Early spring had come to the city, which always fostered an itch in Ella and her circle of friends to spend a night at the clubs. Tonight was special though. She had submitted the final draft of her dissertation, effectively completing her PhD program in sociology at the University. Her friends were treating her tonight, in celebration of her accomplishment, by taking her to all of their favorite haunts.

  Snagging sparkling baubles from her dresser to accessorize her ears and wrist, she idly mused that it was a good thing she was the guest of honor tonight. The last month at her waitressing gig had been slow - abysmal if she were honest. Spring had been rung in by a hellacious winter storm that caused everyone to cower in the warmth of their homes rather than enjoy the nightlife of the city. She was scraping to make her outrageous rent.

  Not for the first time since she had decided to make this city her home, Ella wished that her powers had been less of the Fire variety and more of the Spell Casting sort. There were no rules in the Witch world that prohibited using one’s powers for personal benefit; however, since she was gifted only with the magic from that single Caste, the best she could have done was spark a bonfire to reduce her heat bill.

  With a sigh, Ella snapped the clasp on her bracelet. It wasn’t that she wasn’t used to struggling - it had been the way of existence for her and her mother. Her mother had taken leave of the Realm when Ella was but a few years of age. Fire Makers were a rigidly pious sort, moreso than the other Castes. Rules were strictly adhered to, the appearance of propriety always maintained. Her mother’s unplanned pregnancy, coupled with her unwillingness to disclose the nam
e of the father, had left them both subject to scorn and censure by the group.

  Like any mother, wanting the best for her daughter and not finding it within her own Caste, Seve had chosen to leave the Realm. Being a single mother in an unfamiliar city with an ingrained reluctance to engage with mortals had caused them to live a life of isolation and hardship. Nothing had been taken for granted in their home nestled in one of the dilapidated suburbs of Chicago.

  Ella had a near worshipful love of her mother though and that had been enough. She had always been aware of the truth of her lineage and the powers that likely dwelled within her. At the age of six her magic had begun to emerge and it had been a struggle as a small child to rein it in completely. She and her mother had remained in the world of the humans until Ella’s powers grew too great. Her tenth birthday present had been a return trip to the Realm courtesy of the Ancient Sorcerer, Myrrdyn. With the Realm once more as their home, Ella had a safe haven where she had gained control over her gifts.

  Seve had died eight years later, slain by one of their own kind that had joined the Darks. It was during that time of devastating loss that Ella had set herself apart from her Faction entirely. She had never felt true kinship in her supposed Witch family and she had not felt the loss of their company greatly when she left the Realm for the last time and settled back in Chicago.

  Ella had built a life, earning both her undergraduate degree and continuing on to complete her PhD in that short span of time. Her friends lauded her as brilliant, but she humbly ascribed her accomplishments to sheer will and unbreakable determination to establish a meaningful existence. She refused to live a life where she was defined by the number of Darks she returned to Hell.