by K.N. Lee
She shook her head. “I doubt that. Shouldn’t you be packing or something? Why are you out here swimming in the cold?”
“It will happen,” he assured her as he pulled his shirt over his rippled chest, his abdominal muscles slick with water. “I’ll throw some stuff into a big chest before bed. Why? Going to miss me?”
“I’ve missed you for almost a year now.”
“Yara, I begged your mother not to send you away.”
Silence passed between them as Yara contemplated how she was going to get the words she’d came to say out.
She sighed. “I just came to say goodbye.”
“You say it as if I am going to vanish forever. I only need to serve in the military for two years.
Yara finally faced him, her shoulders slumping as she titled her head to reveal the bruise on her face.
Asher reached down, taking her by the hand and pulling her to her feet. He cupped her face in his large hands and gently stroked her cheeks before hugging her tight to his chest.
Closing her eyes, Yara breathed in his scent of pine and honeysuckle. He must have shifted and had a run through the forest before his swim.
She’d miss that scent.
“What happened?” Asher asked, his voice deepening, the smile lines in his face vanishing as he searched her eyes.
Yara pulled away, the front of her shirt soaked with the water from Asher’s wet clothes.
Her face became serious as she looked him in the eyes. “I killed him.”
“I’m sorry that he hurt you, that I couldn’t protect you.”
“There was nothing you could do.”
“I could have never let you go.”
Yara swallowed. This was every bit as hard as she’d imagined.
“There’s not much that can be done now. The deputy is going to come after me.”
“No, he’s not.” He snatched his boots off the ground and shoved them onto his feet. “We are leaving. Now.”
Yara put a hand on his shoulder, her heart racing. “What do you think you’re doing? You can’t leave. You have to serve your time or they will kill you. They will kill us both.”
“We can travel outside of the kingdom. I have contacts in Shelton.”
Yara shook her head. “No. You have a family and responsibilities. Don’t make this harder for me than it already is.”
“Tell me one thing that matters in my life more than you.”
Yara’s bottom lip trembled. She looked to the sky and shrugged. “Your family.”
“No, Yara. There is nothing that I love more in this world more than you. My family can take care of themselves. Our bloodline is one of the purest in Allarya. They don’t need the ninth son to protect them from anything.”
Yara wrapped her arms around his neck and he pressed his lips to hers and lacing his fingers into her hair.
“Asher,” a voice called from behind them.
Asher’s face went ashen and Yara turned to see an older woman in a lavender dress standing there.
Asher took Yara’s hand into his own and cleared his throat. “Mother.”
CHAPTER FOUR
LADY WESTERBROOK STEPPED from the garden, her hands folded before her gown as she looked Asher and Yara over. As always, she looked regal. Her gown was made of expensive silk, and her black hair was stacked high above her head in a tight bun wrapped by a band of tiny crystals.
While short, she also looked young for her age, with lines only around the corners of her mouth and large amber eyes.
She glanced down at Asher’s hand around Yara’s and a flicker of a smile came to her lips.
“You’d best be wary of such shows of affection, Asher,” she said, her voice soft and sweet like a child’s. “Your father will return home soon, and we all know that he isn’t as understanding as I.”
“I don’t care.”
“You should. Not only is it against the law, but Yara is a married woman.”
“Not anymore,” Yara said.
Lady Westerbrook pursed her lips. “What happened?”
“He’s dead,” Yara replied before Asher could elaborate.
“Well, that is beside the point. Asher is betrothed to Lady Chastain.”
Yara looked up at Asher, frowning.
Why hadn’t he told her?
She sighed, realizing that he didn’t owe her anything. Still, it bothered her that he was willing to leave another poor girl that probably looked forward to being engaged to one of the few decent lords in the south.
“Which wasn’t supposed to happen until after I served. And, I technically never agreed to it,”Asher pointed out.
“Like I said. That’s beside the point.”
Yara swallowed as she looked from mother to son.
“I am leaving with Yara,” he said, firmly.
Yara’s face paled as she heard his words and watched his mother’s face. “He’s just joking. I was just leaving.”
Asher held onto her hand. “No. I am not joking,” he said through clenched teeth.
The tension made Yara’s stomach churn.
To their surprise, Lady Westerbrook nodded and turned her back on them. Yara and Asher shared a look.
“Come with me,” she said.
THE TREES SWAYED with the wind as Yara and Asher stood outside the gate that faced the east.
Lady Westerbrook clasped her hands before her.
“Nine boys and you’re the only one with a mind of your own. I used to be that way. I had dreams, and yet I was arranged to your father. My dreams were never more important than strengthening the bloodline.”
Asher reached for his mother’s hand through the gate.
She shook her head, sucking in a sharp breath. “No. I fear that I’ll change my mind and make you stay if I touch you. You are my darling baby boy. My youngest and most unique.”
“Your favorite,” Asher said, smirking.
Lady Westerbrook chuckled. She took his hand and kissed it, pressing her red lips to his knuckles as tears fell. “See. I was right. I’m already starting to regret this,” she said, her bottom lip trembling. “Go.”
“I love you, Mother.”
She covered her mouth with a gloved hand. “I love you, Asher. Go now. Follow your dreams. Find happiness. Treat her well.”
She turned and walked quickly back down the worn dirt path toward the manor. “And don’t get caught,” she warned over her shoulder.
Asher looked down at Yara.
“Remarkable,” he said. “I never thought she’d give us her blessing.”
“It’s not her we have to worry about,” Yara murmured. She sighed and looked toward the dark woods.
A mixture of fear, joy, and disbelief filled her veins. By her side was the man she loved. Waiting in the trees above was her best friend.
Somehow, she was delusional enough to think that that things might just work out.
“Did you ever think we’d be leaving Kempsey together?”
“Only in my dreams.”
Asher grinned. “This may very well be a dream.”
She wrapped her arms around his waist. “It better not be.”
“We can find new homes in another kingdom, where no one knows my name,e or family. I can write books and you can raise our little hybrid children.”
Yara laughed. “You’re getting a little ahead of yourself, sir,” she said before lifting onto her tiptoes and kissing him.
She had to admit, his vision of a life together did sound nice.
“Let’s go,” she said. “Hero knows of somewhere we can go to wait out the brewing storm.”
“What storm?” Asher asked, looking to the sky through the tree cover.
“A wizard’s storm,” she replied, hopping onto one of the horses his mother had provided for them.
“Are you serious?”
Yara nodded, watching him climb onto his favorite black horse. “Shifters and humans aren’t affected by them, but those with magic are. Just another thing King Loric created to hu
rt us.”
“Lead the way,” Asher said.
Hero flew above, leading them through the thick dark woods to a side road.
Yara hadn’t traveled down that road in years. It led to Old Kempsey—a ghost town. Sorcerors of all kinds used to live there.
King Loric had them all killed.
Stupid. Stupid man.
Didn’t he realize the purpose of sorcery?
Gooseflesh crept onto Yara’s arms as they rode through the dark. She knew what was coming—what the Spell Slingers had fought for centuries.
Yara glanced back, making sure no one followed them.
She shuddered when all she saw was darkness. She knew what that darkness harbored.
Metas.
And not the ones that Pae belonged to.
“Let’s hurry,” she croaked, making her horse gallop.
Asher was quick on her trail as they cut through the woods with great speed, jumping over fallen trees, animal carcasses, and traps set by hunters.
Out of the darkness, Yara thought. She didn’t want to meet what waited, what had seemingly haunted her since childhood.
With her father dead, she was the last Spell Slinger.
Yara wasn’t ready to face all that title entailed.
CHAPTER FIVE
THE VILLAGE WAS INDEED A ghost town. The dirt road hadn’t been ridden through in months. The humans feared that area, and for good reason.
After the Spell Slingers were killed, the Metas were free to come out and make mischief as they pleased. Yara knew too well that there were some Metas that weren’t out just to cause mischief.
While there were some benevolent beings that were simply drawn to the energy of the living, there were also those that wanted to harm, possess, and kill.
Hero led the way, shifting back to his human form, tall and slim like a shadow in the center of the empty road.
“They really made a mess of things,” Asher said, tying his horse to the hitching post.
Yara did the same. “They did. And they will regret it.” She stroked the horse’s brown hair and glanced over at a skeleton that hung inside the bar before her.
Images of a middle-aged woman came to her, making her shudder as hollow eyes stared at her.
She rubbed her arms and turned to follow Asher and Hero through the town.
“Were you going to tell me about the lady you were betrothed to?” Yara asked as she walked beside Asher.
He glanced down at her. “Sure. Eventually. Why? I am with you. It’s irrelevant now.”
Yara frowned, looking ahead. She should feel flattered, but she didn’t.
“The tavern will be a good place to hide for the night. It’s the cleanest of all of the homes,” Hero said. “Only two bodies. The other places have loads more.”
“Great,” Yara said, rolling her eyes. “We will have to clean the bodies out first.”
Hero shrugged. “Sure. They don’t really bother me.”
“Of course they don’t,” Asher said. “Because you’re a freak.”
Hero smiled. “Thank you. That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
Asher chuckled, and even Yara couldn’t help the grin that came to her face.
For a moment, it felt like old times. Just three kids enjoying life and hoping for a bright future. She wished her future had gone the way she’d dreamt it. She shouldn’t complain. Asher was by her side again.
A howl came from the distance.
Asher froze. Yara kept walking, her eyes narrowing as a cloud headed their way.
Not a storm cloud.
A Meta was heading their way.
“This is perfect,” she grumbled.
Hero folded his arms across his chest. He tilted his head toward the black mass that ran for them. “You can handle this, right?”
Yara shot him a glare. “Of course I can,” she said. “Why don’t you boys shift and run away? I’ll call you when I’m done.”
Asher shrugged and shifted to his wolf form. He was one of the biggest wolves she’d ever seen at nearly five feet on all fours. Thick black fur covered his entire body, and bright blue eyes looked to her as he barred his fangs.
“Who said I was running?” He stood before Yara. “I have to protect my woman.”
The Meta howled again, his nondescript form taking on the shape of a large black dragon with glistening scales and long, sharp fangs.
Asher took a step back.
“On second thought…”
Yara shielded her eyes against the Meta’s breath of fire. It spread open its wings and dove right for her.
Asher and Hero made way, and Yara rolled up her sleeves.
You can do it. You can do it.
Yara gulped. She hoped she was right, but there was always that sliver of doubt hiding in the dark recesses of her mind, telling her that one day she’d meet a Meta that wouldn’t be as easy as the low level ones that haunted Kempsey.
The dragon swooped around her, its green eyes resembling that of a cat.
“Peek-a-boo,” it cooed, and chuckled. “I see you.”
An explosion of light escaped Yara’s hand as she focused all of her energy and strength into a massive blow to the dragon’s face.
She grimaced and squeezed her eyes shut as the dragon burst like a sack of blood. Hot blood splashed onto her face and clothes, and the cloud dissipated.
Hero landed on her shoulder. “Nice work he said.”
Yara groaned and used her fingers to wipe blood and guts from her face. “Thanks,” she grumbled.
CHAPTER SIX
THE STENCH OF BLOOD was stifling as Yara, Hero and Asher entered the abandoned tavern. She was appalled to see that two bodies were still inside, decomposed to nothing but bones and hair.
The king’s soldiers had massacred the poor people of that town, and Asher had almost joined them.
Horrified, she covered her nose with her sleeve, almost forgetting that she was already covered in blood.
“What is that smell?” Asher asked, his eyes scanning the room. He coughed into the inside of his elbow and waved dust and ashes from the air.
“Magic,” Hero answered.
“My father taught me that spells can linger in a place long after its done its job.”
Her father had trained her to follow in his footsteps, to protect the humans just as their ancestors had done for thousands of years. Somehow, Yara became too good at being a Spell Slinger, and both of her parents sensed that it would be dangerous for anyone to find out.
She sighed, wishing there was ale in that tavern. She could use an entire barrel.
Hero stood in the doorway, his back pressed against the frame while he chewed his nails. He nodded.
“Bronson was right.”
Yara allowed the different scents of the room to waft into her nostrils as she looked over the overturned tables and chairs. “All traces of the spells are gone.”
“Good,” Asher said, relaxing his shoulders. Something glittered in the cupboard, behind a single cup.
“What’s that?”
“I don’t know,” Yara said. “Don’t touch it, though.”
Curious to find something so beautiful in such an awful place. She stepped over a dead body to get a better look at it.
A key.
Lightning struck, crashing through the roof and slamming its electric cords into the wooden floor,
Yara jumped, stunned by how close that bolt of lightning had come to striking them. Still in shock, Asher shook her.
“He knows I’m here,” Yara whispered, her brows furrowing as she stared down at the fire that broke out in the spot the lightning had struck.
How did the deputy find out so quickly? How did he alert the king? Something wasn’t right.
“We have to get you away from here.”
She nodded, still awestruck as he lifted her from her spot and carried her toward the back of the tavern. Something caught her attention—a glow.
She looked to the key, drawn t
o it.
“Wait,” she said. “Put me down.”
Asher looked to the gaping hole in the roof, the sky black and rippled with more lightning.
Thunder roared.
“What? It’s coming back,” he shouted at her, holding onto her hand.
Yara didn’t hear him, but he wouldn’t let go of her hand, so she pulled him along.
The key.
It called to her.
Yara.
Come.
Yara couldn’t resist, she used all of her strength to pull Asher along, just to get a closer look.
Once close enough to touch it, lightning struck again, inches from her face, and yet she barely paid it any attention.
“YARA!”
Yara heard her name, but it seemed to come from far away.
Who called to her?
Was it Asher, Hero, or someone else entirely?
The answer seemed to be right before her.
Yara licked her lips and reached for the key that waited for her inside the cupboard.
Lightning did hit her then.
At least…she thought it did.
CHAPTER SEVEN
YARA STEPPED OUT INTO the light. Whatever black fog that had consumed her, finally let her free. She’d felt like she was lost inside of her own mind for what seemed to be an eternity.
She rubbed her eyes, groggy and disoriented.
What had happened?
She remembered very little, but something nagged at her.
What was it?
“Dear spirits,” she whispered as she looked around. The tavern was intact—and yet it looked…different.
The tables and barstools were set up, nice and neat, and the bar stretched from one end to the other. What she didn’t understand were the flashing lights and loud music that seemed to come from the metallic boxes above her head.
That’s when it hit her like a pail of cold water from the well.
Asher.
Hero.
She spun around. Where were they? Her brows furrowed as she looked up at strange flat devices that had fast images being shown. People sang and danced in ways Yara had never witnessed. They wore clothes that barely covered their bosoms or thighs.
