Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the author
Other books by this author
Passion of a Witch
A Wicked Series Book 1
By
K. D. Friedrich
WWW.KDFRIEDRICH.COM
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Copyright © 2016 by K. D. Friedrich
EBook Edition
All rights reserved. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
K.D. Friedrich
PO Box 365
Bethpage, NY 11714
Editing by Hot Tree Editing
Proofread by Gillian Leonard
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the author
Other books by this author
Chapter 1
“Winter, I won't let anyone hurt you. I swear it,” Summer Leery assured her younger sister, who huddled in the furthest corner of their parents' bedroom, shaking with fear.
Why they ran in that particular room, Summer wasn't sure. Their mother and father left yesterday for the annual clan meeting, leaving them alone for the first time. The room sat empty and cold. Yet something about the sweet smell of her mother's perfume and the remnants of her father's power offered them comfort.
A sudden crash made the girls jump. Male shouting penetrated the walls from outside, echoing throughout the house.
A tear fell from Winter's eye. “What do they want? Who are they?”
To be honest, she had no idea what waited for them outside, but there was no use frightening her sister further with her uncertainty. Would they walk away from this intact, or would the cowards mocking them with foul taunts break down the doors and destroy them? She had no answer.
“They are nothing but tyrants. We are protected by the Goddess,” Summer assured her sister.
Her sister's petite body trembled. “I'm scared.”
Fear consumed Summer as well, but she hid her trepidation deep. Her parents put her in charge of her sister and their home. They trusted her skill. Leery blood ran through her veins, the purest, most powerful blood of her kind. She would not fail them by letting her terror lead her.
Silence transcended over the small Pennsylvania cottage her family had lived in for generations. The absence of sound was disconcerting compared to the thunderous crash of shattering glass and vicious taunts polluting the serenity of their home just moments earlier.
Summer approached the closed door and lifted her hand to the doorknob, but froze at the sudden press of arms embracing her waist. She glanced over her shoulder to find the top of Winter's head.
Although her sister celebrated her eighteenth birthday less than a month ago, she was still a foot shorter than Summer. Petite like their mother, Winter displayed childlike innocence with her wide brown eyes, soft angelic features, and long, sandy brown hair. However, Summer's genetics leaned more towards her father's side—tall, full of curves, and cursed with a head of wild black waves.
“I'm going with you.” Winter stared at Summer with tears still clinging to her lashes. Her fear obvious, yet she held her ground.
“No, absolutely not, Winter. I have no idea who they are or what they want. I can't risk you getting hurt. Momma and Papa trusted me—”
“Exactly, it's too dangerous to go out there alone. I have skills. I can help.”
Summer couldn't help but smile at her sister's bravery. “Listen to the forest. The land is furious at the intruders.” Outside, the wind grew restless and a chorus of night sounds erupted to a fever pitch. “I have all the help I need. They won't allow any harm to come to me.” At least she hoped. Who knew what these trespassers were capable of… what power they possessed. “You trust me, don’t you?” Her sister nodded. “Lock this door when I leave.”
“But I want to come.” Winter growled the words through gritted teeth.
“Pepper. Snow,” Summer called out, ignoring Winter's insistence. A pair of raccoons scrambled out from underneath the bed. One had average brown and tan fur. The other wore a coat of pure white with red eyes. An albino, Snow was a rarity among his kind. “Watch over her.”
“You'd better come back in one piece, sister.” Winter marched towards the bed.
The raccoons leapt on the mattress. Even though her sister possessed power over woodland creatures, the animals served her entire family out of respect.
Winter's lip quivered, but she plopped beside her furry protectors.
Summer took in a deep breath. The act made her stand taller. She fixed her attention on the bedroom door, released the air she held, and twisted the knob.
The harsh scent of male sweat and cigarettes slammed into her. She scowled. How in the Goddess's name did humans cross her father's safeguards? Only witches possessed the power to get this close to the house. Powerful spells were put in place to keep all humanity out, yet humans strolled right up to her front door, undetected.
She'd have to question the spirits later. Right now, a group of filthy trespassers needed to learn a valuable lesson. Fear vanished, snuffed out by fury.
She crept into the hallway, catching the faint scent of the fresh cinnamon sticks her mother had left in a bowl by the window the other day. She glanced in the first doorway on the right, which was the bedroom Winter and she shared. It appeared to be undisturbed. Now, her focus returned to the edge of the living room. Not a sound greeted her. Unmoving shadows swallowed much of the light and a cold calmness filled the air. She crept along the wall, peeked around the corner, and her heart dropped into her stomach.
�
�I will suck the very essence from their souls for this.”
Glass crunched beneath her sandaled-covered feet as she stepped into the wreckage. The bowl her grandmother forged from jade was shattered. Dozens of tiny green fragments were all that remained of the precious keepsake. The glass panes were also destroyed. They had been knocked all the way across the room. A few jagged shards hung from the two front window frames. The curtains whipped and swayed, punished by the strengthening wind now tearing through the trees. Tears erupted in her eyes, the violation worse than any ever acted upon her.
She advanced further into the living room and tripped over a red brick, causing her to stumble into the arm of the couch. She cursed in the old language. Written in black across the crimson block, she read the word Witch. A few feet away, a hefty rock lay surrounded by debris. Fury grew in her heart, strangling her usually peaceful nature, her resolve to destroy absolute. Power erupted inside her. One swift flick of her wrist sent the stone rocketing into the closest wall.
Humans… Goddess damned, emotionless slaves to their own ignorance.
Their small, uncivilized minds and their failure to embrace differences forced the supernatural community to remain hidden for centuries.
Distant laughter echoed through the darkness of the woodlands. With her fists clenched at her sides, she growled and ran for the front door.
She marched out into the night. The restless energy of the woodland slammed into her with the ferocity of a well-aimed fist. They shared her anger. From the tiniest of creatures to the tallest of trees, they screamed of the violation against them, but at the same time, nature cried, helpless to fight the intruders.
To the forest and its kin, humanity had proven itself a dangerous enemy.
Summer's senses came alive, merging with her environment. When surrounded by nature, a witch gained vitality and lucidity. That was why so many of her brethren lived deep within woods and jungles. Natural elements gave her kind strength. Helped them thrive. Gave them power.
She wiped the beads of sweat from her brow. Humidity climbed throughout the day and peaked around seven this evening. The temperature now hovered in the low nineties. This July had been gentle so far. Tonight, the damp heat offered a harsh reminder of this season's ruthless, unpredictable attitude. While insects and amphibians loved this weather, keeping the forest buzzing twenty-four seven, mammals like Summer preferred the shade, spending their days lounging beneath the thicker canopy, waiting for dusk.
Born with enhanced strength, vision, hearing, and an incredible sense of smell, witches and other supernatural beings were far superior to humans. They inherited powers, abilities, leaps and bounds ahead of humanity.
She breathed in the hot, moist air, filling her lungs with nature's sweet aroma. She scrunched her nose at the sudden unnatural stink of male cologne and tobacco smoke hanging heavy in the breeze. Irritating her nostrils, the foul odor blocked the fragrance of pine and earth she adored. So much of the trespassers' presence polluted the air. Did their taint leave a permanent stain on the forest? Only time would tell.
The sooner she took care of them, the better. She surveyed the shadows, examining several paths carved out by her kin over generations.
Which trail did they use to flee? A sudden, deep sense of dread struck her. What if they were bound for the grove? Her heart thrashed within her chest as the possibilities of such a horrific outcome unfolded in her mind. Perspiration trickled down her back. Her hands shook.
Merged into the grove's essence, her entire family's magic depended on the health and vitality of the grove. To lose her sanctuary would be like losing her soul.
They must not find our haven.
Bound to the element of fire, Summer found strength in the hot rays of sunlight. Without the powerful star shinning above, she wasn't weak, but she wouldn't reach her full level of power either.
With her arms raised high in the air. She called to the forest. In the language of her ancestors, she demanded justice, implored the power of the moon and earth to aid her cause. Her chant grew louder, desperate. This crime deserved punishment.
The wind shifted, guiding her gaze toward a narrow trail hidden in the shadows. Her relief was instant. Thank the Goddess the fools headed away from the grove.
After offering the forest a silent thank you, she darted along the east path. Her plan was to knock the filthy humans off the pedestal they had propped themselves upon, and if they bled, so be it.
If humanity knew witches existed and how much power they possessed, they'd replenish their stock of nooses and dust off the gallows. Humans considered the witches a legend, a fable meant to scare children into submission. Imagine their shock to learn her kind had walked this planet for centuries. Astonishment would soon turn to terror when they discovered that, with a single flick of their wrists, her quaint coven could wipe out hundreds, maybe thousands of them.
Yet, with all the skills the witchkind possessed, they wished to live in peace, to preserve the strength of their kind, maintain the purity of their bloodlines, and thrive as a people. Nothing more. They had no scheme to dominate the human race, even though they had the ability to do so if they wished. Marriage, breeding, and tradition were their priorities, not world domination.
As a matter of fact, her parents left on their two-week hiatus because the time had come for Summer's promising. She was twenty-five and well past her time for marriage. Since so few pureblood witches remained, arranged marriages were essential to breed the new, untainted generation.
She had delayed her engagement for eleven months, using her studies of healing as a crutch.
Was she ready for a husband? Goddess, no. Strong and stubborn, she had no plans to submit to a man's will, but she also knew her duty. Her kind must thrive.
Her nana had preached about maintaining the pure bloodlines. New generations must be born without the taint of shifter, vampire, or human blood if they wished to stay powerful. To mate with such creatures, well, that was the worst crime in the old woman's eyes.
Nana may have never baked cookies or read bedtime stories, but she had earned the respect of the entire coven. She had spent her life fighting to keep the coven strong. What she lacked in gentleness, her nana made up for with her love of tradition and her undying devotion to her people. Summer planned to honor her memory by marrying a pureblood, breeding the next generation, and carrying on her coven's proud legacy—no matter the bitter tang it left in her mouth.
Her inescapable obligation spiked her anger, pushing her legs to run faster, making her powers scream to tear through the forest and destroy. If she couldn't escape her fate, neither would the filthy male humans trampling through her trails.
A sudden gust of wind whipped against her body, forcing her to shift direction. She followed its lead, taking a sharp right and then an abrupt left. She jumped over a thick root. Her breaths came quicker as sweat soaked her back. Damp strands of her black hair clung to her neck and shoulders. Bushes shifted and braided vines hanging in her way parted, creating pathways where walls of dense brush once sat undisturbed. In each corner of the woods, animals big and small screeched and howled, assuring justice.
The trespassers' vile scents grew stronger. Traces of blood mingled with their human stench. She grinned, knowing the offenders wouldn't leave unscathed. Large twigs thrashed like leather straps, leaving welts where they struck.
Ahead, three shadowed forms stumbled through the dark. Their carefree laughter morphed into vicious grunts and obscenities. The vulgarity echoed through the night as the forest punished them with flogging branches and creeping plants. Roots lifted, tripping them.
Who's laughing now?
The canopy above separated, allowing more rays of moonlight to ignite her path. She absorbed the lunar energy. Moonlit rays seeped into her skin, offering her a welcomed boost. Although sunlight was her element, the moon gifted its own aid.
Heavy gusts knocked the perpetrators into the thick tree trunks lining the trail. Yet a mere breeze twirled
around her, caressing her skin, teasing her hair with a playful flick.
A loud cry shot out over the wind and noisy creatures. The largest of the shadowed figures flung forward and crashed into a group of bushes. The other two cowards took off, leaving their accomplice to his fate. They took with them their stench.
“We've got you now,” whispered Summer.
The trees shook their branches, offering applause for a job well done.
He lay on his back, twisting and moaning, his knee raised and held against his chest with his arms.
She approached with a predator's grace. Although fuming, her anger remained subdued by her excitement and, to her surprise, curiosity.
What worthless creature attacked without provocation, violating a quiet home nestled in a peaceful forest? What reason could they have had, besides ignorance and foolishness? She hesitated a moment. An unfamiliar shift in power danced over her flesh as she drew closer to the injured man. She tilted her head, confused by the trace of energy.
Kept isolated from humanity for most of her life, Summer had little knowledge of the world outside her coven. Her source of information was derived from her studies, her grandmother's ramblings, and her father's best friend who visited often. Her mother's bloodline was what they called old-world witches. They preferred the ancient ways and demanded that Summer and Winter not suffer the influence of humanity's idiocy. Her mother obeyed to a point, but on occasion, she'd sneak in human history with her daily instruction. What those lessons taught her was that humankind ignored their mistakes and didn't tolerate diversity or change. Example number one lay on the ground before her.
Another sharp shift of energy flashed, but disappeared. The remnants of the intriguing energy tickled her senses, tweaking her interest further.
He was a large man, a hulky shadow lying flat on his back, growling with the zest of an ill-tempered grizzly. Her experience with men remained limited to the witches attending the coven's events and the shifters her father knew. She had observed human men from the window of her father's van while passing through town, and from what she saw, their males were nothing spectacular. Overweight, sloppy, and weak, not the prime example her kind presented for the masculine gender—their thick bodies packed tight with rows of muscles, their features elegant, handsome, and regal. Oh yes, a male witch exhibited the embodiment of seduction.
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