Bonded Spirit

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by CC Rose


Bonded Spirit

  C. C. Rose

  Copyright © 2014 by C. C. Rose

  This book is protected under the copyright laws of Australia. Any reproduction or other unauthorised use of the material or artwork herein is prohibited.

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold, printed, or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase and additional copy for each recipient. Please do not post or archive on other sites without informing the author. A link to the distributors would be preferred. Please keep this book in its complete original form with the exception of quotes used in reviews. No alteration of content is allowed. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This book is intended for mature readers of seventeen years and over.

  A Rehema Novel © 2014

  Published: March 2014

  Second addition published: June 2015

  C. C. Rose is an Australian author and Australian English and spelling have been used in this book.

  Dangora is a fictional location.

  All characters and locations are created by the author’s imagination and have no connection to actual places or locations in this realm or any other. The land and the people, as well as the kin of dragon are all creations of the author’s mind and any resemblance to any real persons, living or dead or real locations or names, is purely coincidental.

  # Bonded Spirit is the first of the twelve book series! #

  Cover design by C. C. Rose copyright © 2014

  Map design by C. C. Rose copyright © 2013

  ~ ~ ~ * * * ~ ~ ~

  Where To Find CC Rose:

  All enquires are welcomed: Email

  Follow the author: CC Rose on her FaceBook page

  Follow: The Rehema Series FaceBook page

  The Rehema Series website for in-depth look at the series

  The Rehema Series:

  Bonded Spirit

  Kindred Spirit

  Clouded Spirit

  ~ ~ ~ * * * ~ ~ ~

  ~ ~ ~ * * * ~ ~ ~

  For my mum,

  For the inspiration and constant reminder, we are only who we are, and we must not let it stop us from being who we want to be.

  ~ ~ ~ * * * ~ ~ ~

  Love is, always, forever and unconditional.

  Rehema: Book 1

  Bonded Spirit

  C. C. Rose

  Bonded as one, linked forever in eternity

  In an ageless world of sorrow,

  One will complete us entirely.

  Peace. Hope. Happiness

  ~ ~ ~

  Chapter 1

  “You have got to be kidding me!” I hissed.

  Glaring at the parchment tacked on the wall, my face flushed reading the words—Seeking a fun night out: Try this! My mouth hung open in shock as I stared at the diagram. It not only showed directions to my room, but a lists of options! That was too much. I palmed the wall hard; tearing the parchment away, I stormed towards the north hall.

  “How dare he!” I growled and clenched my fist in determination.

  Turning sharp at the end of the hall, I skidded to a halt by several students. Surprise showed, followed quickly by smirks and eye rolls. I pushed past them with little care. I was too focused, irritated, and pissed off. For two months now I wanted to do this. I had always held back, but not today—no. This was too much. This was the last time.

  My lip twitched with unheard insults as anger boiled. The north tower was in my sights. I shoved the twin doors open, glaring through the pitted shadows of half torch lights. Several students were on their feet, ready for the fight. I narrowed my eyes on the three boys sitting by the fireplace.

  “What is the meaning of this?” I yelled, too angry to keep my voice down.

  “Oh,” said Bronson slowly rising to his feet. His teasing blue eyes held with mine, lifting his chin smugly as he stepped from the rug. “Well, thought it might cheer you up over the summer holidays.”

  “You’re a real piece of shit!”

  “Oh, come now. That’s not what you said a few weeks ago. Isn’t that right boys?’ He turned his gaze to the others sitting at the lounge. They nodded and smiled. Their laughter mimicked his.

  Thrusting a fistful of parchments into his view, I hissed through clenched teeth, “How dare you write this about me! You dare say these things.”

  “Relax Rehema. Just a harmless Joke—”

  “Harmless joke!” I snapped. “This is downright bullshit! How dare you treat me like a whore in front of the whole school. You’re worse than delgori breath. Why would you do this to me?”

  “Oh, it’s not that bad.” He flicked his sand blond hair from his brow as his lazy blue eyes scanned me over, taking in my anger with nothing but a teasing smile. “Besides, we all know how fast you were to get me and Edric into the bedroom.”

  “I did no such thing.” My face flushed.

  I glanced at Edric. His eyes dropped in shame. He was no different than Bronson.

  I balled my fist tighter, taking a step closer. “You lying piece of shit!” Seeing him flinch by the smallest fraction gave me some reprieve. “Why do you keep doing this to me? That is not what happened and you know it. This—” I waved the parchments in his face— “Is going to be the last time. I want those parchments back NOW!”

  “No.”

  His smugness infuriated me.

  I clenched my teeth, and glared up to his five foot eight inch height. “You will give me those letters. Now! Or I will kick your ass.” Venom laced my voice. The threat was well acknowledged. Problem was, I sucked at kicking anything.

  His smirk was too coy. He rolled his eyes to show he wasn’t threatened. “I’ll tell you what, Rehema.” He folded his arms casually over his chest. “Since you want them so much, I’ll trade you for them.” His eyes narrowed in taunting.

  My anger simmered with the voice of reason, screaming to calm down, to walk away, and to let it be. No. Not anymore.

  “I won’t trade a thing with you Bronson. You’re a creep!”

  “Me? No. You—you’re a fox.”

  I pressed my lips together, hating his comment in front of so many people. He winked, tilting his head a little bit. The small look of an apology lingered.

  No way. He was not sorry for this. I will not fall for his tricks again.

  “Give me my letters,” I repeated.

  “Sure. For a small price.”

  I should not be tempted, and the small voice in my head told me not to participate in anything Bronson had to offer. Just one more chance. I rolled my eyes, irritated. “What small price?”

  He licked his lips. “A kiss.” And his pupils dilated with excitement.

  I gagged inward at his request, shuddering and avoiding the bile that rose in my throat. It was foolish to think anything he offered was a good solution.

  The voice in my head and I, both agreed simultaneously.

  What a jerk!

  “You will get nothing from me you creep!” I growled. “I don’t even know why I bothered.”

  “Well, you did. And this is what you get when you play with Bronson.” He straightened his shoulders, showing off his boyish charms.

  I shook my head in disgust. “Why can’t you leave me alone? In case you didn’t get the message. This thing we had, is over. Has been now for three months. Your stupid half ass crush on me is pathetic. You’re a shit Ryder. You’re a shit talker and you’re too crap in the bedroom to know which way was the right way. You’re an ass.” My words were truth.

  The flicker of remorse crossed his features, with a hue of red staining his cheeks.

  Finally, I got through to him.

  He composed himself with a smug smile and a shrug
—just like every other time.

  “Oh. I got the message. It’s you who keeps hounding me. See—” He pointed to the parchment.

  I knew it was a load of crap. Lies, letters, and a list of things I once wanted with him. Once—being an extremely small gap in my head, was now completely empty of anything I wanted with him.

  “Get over yourself Bronson,” I snapped. “You’re a Jerk. Give me the letters. Now!”

  “Or what?” He folded his arms on his chest.

  I smiled sweetly, with a wicked wink to match. Bronson’s face paled. His eyes bulged. I turned swiftly, with a deliberate flick of my brown curls over my shoulder and left the lounge area. Oh, so many people. When did they get here? I kept walking towards the sleeping quarters.

  “You’re not allowed down there,” he called after me.

  “Oh, but I want to see your room again. You know how I missed it last time—the whole two minutes I was in there,” I mocked.

  Laughter broke out with sniggers and whispers of my words passed around to the other boys in the hall.

  Within moments of entering his room, I pulled open drawers, and tossed them aside when I found no parchment. I flung garments on the floor and reached for another drawer.

  “Get out of my room NOW!” Anger laced his voice. His face blotched with crimson as he stood in the doorway, his cool calm demeanour melted away as a rage boiled to the surface.

  Uh-oh.

  “Not until I get the rest of those parchments.” I ruffled the third drawer, tossing his books off the bench and rifling through countless papers in my view—not what I needed though. A searing heat touched my skin, as a flame shot past me by mere inches and smouldered into the wall. I jumped back in shock.

  “You dare use magic on me?”

  “I told you to leave.” His face twisted with anger as his left palm held another mânã ball of fire ready for attack.

  “Oh. And I haven’t even been in here for thirty seconds this time.” I smiled sweetly, toying with him for a split second before the flame spiralled towards me.

  Crap.

  I shot out my left hand—I know I shouldn’t have encouraged this fight, and I wasn’t especially good at magic to start with—but I had to defend myself.

  Water and air collided into a spiral of ice-liquid, knocking him to the floor, and suffocating his flame instantly. He scrambled to his feet, gasping at the attack. I was pleased with my magic that helped out when I least expected it to. I couldn’t keep my smile for long. Another flame streaked towards me, twisted in fury as his attack held more direction for my chest than necessary. I rolled away from the flame.

  “Get. Out!” He shouted. “Get out of my room—”

  I dived from another attack, landing on the opposite side of the bed. I took a side step from another assault, stumbling to get my footing right.

  “I want those parchments NOW!”

  I blocked another fire ball with my left palm held towards him. My anger and rage surfaced, reminding me of a blaze inside my body, but it was magic, tingling, leaking, and releasing from my palm.

  It wasn’t what I was expecting either.

  Not Water, Fire, Air, or even Earth. Maybe it was Air—

  He dropped to his knees as the magic spilled into him. He heaved in lung-fulls of air. His eyes shifted, the blood vessels changed from red to black veins, creeping over his eyeballs, completely covering the iris and spilling on to his skin. Stunned, I dropped my hand in fright. His body crumbled to the floor, hard with deep breaths as he coughed violently.

  “Where are they?” My voice betrayed the shock as I trembled with disbelief. I clenched my fist to hide my fear.

  Bronson raised a weak hand, pointing to his bed. Taking in the brown trunk, hidden under the frame, I flipped the latches and there on top of the pile lay the parchments of my long forgotten love letters, or rather my wishful thinking letters.

  What a cheesy bastard!

  Stuffing the parchments into my pocket, I gloated on my win. “Don’t hound me again Bronson. You’re a jerk and you will always be one.”

  He shot to his feet, water dripping from his brow, his blue eyes glared with fiery anger.

  Startled. I pressed my palms to his chest and shoved him hard into the wall. His body jolted awkwardly—something cracked.

  Oh, no.

  “Miss Thorndale! What is the meaning of this?”

  Too late to realise, I’d been played, yet again.

  Salvador Baldwin glared at me.

  Great—just what I need.

  “It’s nothing Master Salvador,” I said innocently. “He frightened me is all.”

  “He did no such thing,” said the Master. A tall man, thin by my standards, with a slender face. His pure white hair hung past his shoulders, cowering from his piercing blue eyes which burned into me. The wheezed cough from Bronson had him break the hard gaze.

  “She attacked me for no reason, Sir.” Bronson shuffled his feet, faking the pain in his side and hand, holding it to his chest as if broken.

  Maybe I did do damage?

  In moments, Master Salvador was at Bronson’s side, assessing the damage.

  When Salvador wasn’t looking, Bronson winked over to me, and then winced for extra attention, hissing to add emphasis on the pain. I narrowed my eyes. I knew this would happen.

  He is such a brat.

  Bronson was the son everyone loved and everyone wanted to help no matter what. I was not one of these people. I could see straight through his phoney bullshit to the third moon of Dangora.

  “I want you to go straight to the infirmary Mr Creet. And as for you Miss Thorndale. You will go to the headmistress office right this minute.”

  “I didn’t mean it on purpose,” I mumbled.

  “I saw you purposely push Mr Creet into the wall. And look at this room. Is this all your doing as well?” He glared at the state of the room.

  Burn marks simmered with swirls of smoke, water soaked the rug and clothes that were crumbled on floor and bed.

  I grimaced. My anger was pretty much soaked up once Salvador busted me.

  “Bu—”

  “And you have witnesses too.” His brow rose with assumption. “Did anyone here see what happened?”

  In a heartbeat, the other students jumped to Bronson’s defence. I was the one who destroyed his room, I was the one who tossed his books and clothes around, and I even used magic on him.

  The thin man’s face paled with a greying if that was even possible. It might have been the dull light. I didn’t get a chance to defend myself. Forcefully pulled from the room and marched straight to the headmistress office, but not before the endless halls of students got an eyeful.

  It was late afternoon, the last week of classes. This was gossip, and my walk of shame was just what they needed. The whispering doubled in shock when Bronson and his misfits helped him along the corridors with his pathetic limping. I desperately wanted to prove he was faking it.

  The majestic voice in my head said. Was that the best way to handle this?

  I sighed. I know, I know … Answering the voice in thought.

  La’Kera was right. She was always right. My dragon was six months old and she knew more than I did. She used the voice of reason; I used the voice of action. While I saw reason in this action, I didn’t think I’d get busted. I smiled smugly, knowing I did succeed in getting the parchments at least.

 

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