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Ravensgaard Queen: An Urban Fantasy Romance (Shifter Chronicles Book 1)

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by Melle Amade




  SHIFTER CHRONICLES BOOK 1

  RAVENSGAARD

  QUEEN

  An Urban Fantasy Romance

  MELLE AMADE

  RAVENSGAARD QUEEN

  Copyright © 2019 by Melle Amade.

  All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  For information contact:

  www.melleamade.com

  melle@melleamade.com

  Book design by Derek Murphy @Creativindie

  Cover design by Desiree DeOrto

  First Edition: June 2019

  Second Edition: August 2019

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  Dutch born, Matilde, the estranged niece of Lord Van Arend, barters with her scheming mother to spend the summer with the only friends she’s ever had, the Ravensgaard at Castle Brannach. The only problem is what she has offered her mother is information; information that will break her friends’ trust and begin the downfall of the regime that governs them all.

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  MELLE AMADE BOOKS

  THE SHIFTER CHRONICLES SERIES

  1 – RAVENSGAARD QUEEN

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  2 - IRON CAGE

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  3 – JAGGED SWORD

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  4. GILDED CHAIN

  September 2020

  5. BROKEN CHALICE

  October 2020

  6 - SANCTUARY

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  7 - REMNANTS

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  8 - HARVEST

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  9 – DELUGE

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  KNIGHTS OF VALLIERE SERIES

  1 – ORDER OF THE REGENT

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  1

  “You can’t do that,” I said, reaching out my gloved hand and pushing against Siobhan’s blade. Needed to get it out of sight before any humans saw it.

  “They’re here, Davin.” Siobhan sniffed the misty Dublin air. “Can’t you smell it?”

  “So are a ton of men, women and children.” I motioned to all the human families milling around on the riverbanks below us.

  The wind whipped sharply across the rooftops, stinging my eyes and pushing my short crimson hair to even wilder angles. Siobhan hated my dyed hair, but I thought it was perfect and helped me blend in with the Dublin punk scene. It’s 1975 after all. And we aren’t Eagles, all holed up in our castle unaware life has moved on from the 1600’s. We’ve never even been to our clan’s castle. Instead, we lived in the slums of Dublin in a three-story attached brick house only one step up from a human council flat; the government-issued piece of shite dwellings where crime happened. A lot.

  You’d think Master Murtagh would provide his frontline defense with better accommodation, but I guess he’s got other things on his mind.

  A sigh escaped me. I don’t really mind us all crammed in there. It’s a wee bit cozy even. We do what we must. At least until we find the stronghold of the Alliance of Righteous Humanity and exterminate them. Then we’ll be heroes and maybe even live in a castle. I snorted at the thought.

  “Let’s go,” Siobhan said. Her rosy full cheeks and innocent expression belied the killer instinct she had for tracking. She wasn’t a bad partner to have. Even if she sometimes did dumb things like playing with her sword in front of a bunch of humans.

  We might be on the outskirts of the crowd, but one of them might casually look over and freak out because of the scian. It’s a beautiful short sword with intricate crosses and knots engraved all over it, a gift from Siobhan’s parents handed down through her family for ages.

  Must be nice.

  I pressed my lips together. It didn’t matter that I had no heritage. I had a family. Even if Siobhan was a tad reckless, she was like a sister to me. That’s how we were raised. But at twenty-six, a bit older than me, she should know better than to flash her scian around.

  “It’s not like anyone here is going to notice,” she said.

  She might have a good point. My eyes scanned the crowd rubbing up against each other as they gyrated wildly to the music pouring off the stage.

  gitchie gitchie ya-ya da-da

  gitchie gitchie ya-ya

  Mocha-choca-lata ya-ya

  Even without the psychedelic drugs many of the humans took, the music made my hips sway. I ground them to a halt.

  It’s not why we’re here.

  We needed to find the members of the Alliance. The Alliance of Righteous Humanity was always taking the moral high ground, so this was the perfect place for them; an outdoor rock concert in the center of Dublin, Iveagh Gardens. With doped up, barely clothed humans it was soaking in immorality.

  Casey, Siobahn’s dad and the head of our cabal, hadn’t liked the idea. But we’d sold him on it. We’d visit the Alliance’s “sponsor stall” and get to know their recruiters. We would pose as young, crazy humans that wanted to find a virtuous way of life. If we could infiltrate the Alliance, we’d stand a chance of wiping out their headquarters and saving our cabal. It was a risky endeavor, but it could stop the slow dissemination of our Dublin pack. They had been picking us off, one by one, ever since I can remember.

  When I was first abandoned in Dublin at three-years old, the Ravensgaard frontline had a manor house. We got a stipend from Master Murtagh and it was subsidized by the Ravensgaard in our unit. There were enough of us that some could work, and some could fight, and we lived well. But that was twenty-two years ago. Where once we were a hundred strong, now we were down to fourteen. They killed so many of us. The Alliance was winning and if we didn’t stop the bleeding, soon there would be none of us left.

  Damn Master Murtagh. We weren’t supposed to say anything bad about our Chieftain, but seriously…who the hell just leaves his soldiers on the frontlines dying?

  Today things had to change. We needed to make friends with Alliance members and start to worm our way into their group. But that won’t happen if Siobhan’s scian gets seen by humans. If that happened, we’d have to run.

  “Put it back in your bag and let’s get this underway,” I said. “We do whatever it takes to beat the enemy.”

  I repeated Casey’s words as Siobhan tossed her brown hair over her shoulder, sheathed the blade and dropped it in her black canvas backpack.

  “I just wanted to make sure it was there.” She grinned slyly at me. “How’re you going to defend yourself?”

  “That’s why the good Lord gave me fists and feet.” I clenched my fist and chuffed it gently towards her chin.

  “You know I’m better with the scian,” she said.

  “The goal today is to not need either of them.” I scanned the booths lined up on the fringes of the crowd. “What we want to do is simply make friends and show some interest.”

  She threw her backpack over her shoulder. “Yeah, yeah.”

  We made our way down the hill and through the throng. People danced wildly in groups or by themselves. Everyone moving to their own beat, regardless of what the music was doing. Some even held hands and
pranced in circles. Siobhan stayed close by my side.

  I wore fluorescent striped knee-high socks that matched my miniskirt and clashed with the bright red, ripped t-shirt. My colors were way too bright for the typical black Ravensgaard attire. That was the point. We needed the Alliance to think we were some young, dumb punks who believed in demons. My black leather jacket was the only thing that could give it away, but everyone wears black leather jackets. If I didn’t have one on, it’d be weird.

  I adjusted my leather strap wristbands as we maneuvered through the crowd. Gently rubbing the scar on the inside of my left wrist. No idea where I got the thing from, but it looked like a wing in flight and I always touched it for luck

  The wristbands concealed short blades that I could whip out to slit a Hunter’s throat with ease. The rings on my fingers doubled as brass knuckles and there were a couple of throwing stars tucked in each of my socks. I felt well-armed even without my scian.

  The white banner above the booth clearly stated the organization’s name in deep brown letters. The Alliance of Righteous Humanity. Our targets were there, sitting at a folding table near the edge of the masses. My muscles tensed. I hated how hunters had no problem hanging out with other humans and proclaiming exactly who and what they were. They didn’t have to live in the shadows like shifters did.

  Well, make that shadows of the shadows. Our small group wasn’t like the other Ravensgaard.

  The rest of the Ravensgaard got to live around Castle Brannach under the protection of Master Murtagh and in service to the Eagles. Then there was our cabal, our unit.

  The frontline agressors.

  The unspoken group of Ravensgaard who actively hunt the Alliance of Righteous Humanity, trying to extinguish them before they killed us. Even though they’d diminished our numbers, we always got them worse. Five to one. But they grew their group so much faster. They got to recruit from the human population.

  Shifters had to be born.

  The booth was manned by a boy and a girl, both wearing punk outfits like us. The girl’s sex pistols shirt had a diagonal rip across the front, held together by safety pins so you could see her red lace bra and ample cleavage. She had on very tight black leather pants, and her flat, round face made it apparent she was mixed blood, some kind of Asian. Her black hair was cut square and her full lips had a downward turn that made it look like she never smiled a day in her life.

  The boy had a bleached white mohawk. It was strange to see the way they looked. It was very different from the prim and proper clothing Alliance members were typically attired in. But I guess they were in costume trying to attract the punters.

  “Lean on me,” I murmured, before they saw us.

  Siobhan collapsed on me so hard I almost fell over. Her head sagged and feet dragged.

  “Steady,” I said, with a hiss.

  “Ohhhhhhhh, I don’t feel so good.” A loud moan erupted from her mouth.

  I stumbled a bit under her weight, aiming towards the Alliance’s booth. “Can I get some help?” I called out to them.

  The boy smiled and vaulted over the counter. “I’ll give you a hand,” he said, slipping his shoulder under Siobhan’s arm and lifting her weight off me. “Come right back in here and we’ll help you rest up.”

  We’re probably the first people who spoke to these assholes all day.

  “Is she going to puke?” the Asian girl asked with disdain.

  “Calm down, Shannon,” the boy said. “These people are in need.”

  Shannon stood back, hands on hips as the boy slid Siobhan into a chair.

  “It’s just…it’s just too much,” Siobhan moaned. “What are we doing?”

  Damn she was good at this. I kind of sucked, but I gave it a shot. “It’s so loud out there and crazy. It’s like everyone’s possessed.”

  “Is she on drugs?” Shannon asked, still not lifting a hand to help the boy who was mopping Siobhan’s brow with some wet cloth he happened to have for just such an emergency.

  “No, no,” I said. “Just a wee nip of the bottle. But she saw something in the crowd, I think.”

  “A devil!” Siobhan muttered. “A devil.”

  Shannon squinted as she perused the crowd. “Really?” she asked.

  “There was something out there.” I breathed a little heavier hoping I was believable. “Like a beast-man or something.”

  The girl’s mouth didn’t turn up, but she looked us up and down. It made me a little nervous, like maybe she could see through our masquerade and knew we were shifters.

  “I’ll go check it out.” She raised her chin at the boy before leaping over the counter and disappearing into the crowd.

  I wanted to follow her and drive my blades into her neck. She’s obviously a killer. How many of us had she taken out?

  “You’re going to be all right,” the boy said to Siobhan. “My name’s Delaney and we can help you.”

  Check.

  Connection made.

  Now we needed to make sure he got our numbers. But I had no doubt that would happen. Siobhan was aces at that.

  2

  Mrs. O’Leary plonked the big bowl of steaming potatoes in front of me before retreating to the kitchen.

  “Pass the potatoes, Davin,” Casey, Siobhan’s dad, said from the far end of the table. I reached into the bowl with both hands, dropping one on my plate and throwing the largest one down the long table straight at Casey’s head. Keith, Siobahn’s younger brother, snatched it out of the air when it was halfway down the table.

  “Manners, Keith,” Casey admonished.

  “All manners get you around here is hungry.” Keith grinned, chomping down half the potato in a single bite. The table burst out laughing.

  “Come on, show off,” Siobhan said, chuckling at me. “Serve the lot of us.”

  “No probs.” I rapid-fired potatoes around the table, one at each head.

  Only Laura missed her catch. To be fair, I aimed short to not hit her. She’s the youngest in our cabal and not a great catch. “Don’t pull your punches.” She laughed, swiping her potato off the floor and swapping it with Keith’s second helping. He didn’t protest, he’d lay on a bed of nails for her, so eating a potato off the floor was nothing.

  “Been getting some extra practice in?” Keith asked.

  “Gotta be prepared.” I grinned proud the cabal recognized my improvement. Regardless of their acceptance, deep down I knew I was the outsider here, the one left on the doorstep. But they made me part of their family. I wanted to do them proud.

  “Don’t be throwing my food around!” Mrs. O’Leary called from the kitchen.

  We all snickered like reprimanded school children.

  “Finish up,” Casey tried to put on a stern face for the table, but there was mirth in his eyes. “We’ll do some extra training before sleep tonight. The girls did good today, we want to maximize the opportunity and be ready to strike when the Alliance calls.”

  ***

  “Davin!” Siobhan’s whisper was shrill in my ear. “Wake up!” Her fingers poked into my side. I opened my eyes, staring wide into the darkness of our bedroom. There was something wrong. I could feel it under my skin, prickling at my nerves.

  The house was quiet, but something was off. I crawled out of bed. In seconds I slipped on a pair of leather pants and strapped on my weapons. The scian I slipped in its scabbard, but I wasn’t going out there without everything; my num-chuks, throwing stars, daggers, the lot of it.

  We were out the door and down the stairs single file against the wall. Creeping silently in our own house felt wrong, but not as wrong as the stench that rose from our living room as we approached the bottom of the stairs. It was too dark to see much of anything, but a shiver ran through both of us at the same time.

  Blood.

  Fresh blood.

  Siobhan’s breathing was heavy and loud in the gloom. There were black shapes in the room below us, but I couldn’t tell if it was furniture or something else. Though, we’d been in this home
awhile and there wasn’t a sofa or chair in the middle of the living room floor. I raised my hand against her lips.

  “Hit the light switch,” I murmured.

  Siobhan shook her head under my hand. She didn’t dare move. I reached around her as tremors ran through my arm. Our bodies pressed together in the shadows. Her terror transfered to me and the last thing in the world I wanted to do was turn on the light and see what was in our living room.

  I swallowed and hit the switch regardless.

  Siobhan’s piercing scream filled the air, but I couldn’t even open my mouth. I slid slowly down the wall, frozen by the horror in front of me. Life as we had known it was over.

  Completely over.

  3

  At some point, we had to land. No one could fly forever. My wings ached from exertion, but exhaustion battled against my irrational fear of being on the ground. There was no way the Hunters could have followed us after massacring our family. They couldn’t even see us as we left, black shadows against the midnight sky, turning into ravens and fleeing. We had flown miles and miles and miles. Ten. Twenty. Thirty. It would take days to get where we needed to be, to the safety of Castle Brannach.

  Siobhan was flagging, too. She dipped down and then surged back up, beating her wings with what little energy she had left. We can’t keep going tonight. Out here in the deep gloom of the countryside, where all the bright emerald green of the forests and paddocks slumbered under a murky quilt, we might be safe.

  I floated down onto a massive oak tree and Siobhan landed next to me. We glanced furtively around. There was nothing. I jumped from the tree, shifting as I landed. Siobhan shifted, landing next to me, falling forward on her knees. Her hair hung in long strands over her face as her breath came in heavy sobs.

  “Siobhan,” I knelt next to her and caught her shoulders in my arms. There was nothing to be said, though. Her parents were dead. Casey. Laura. Her brother, Keith. All dead. The people who raised me. The only family I’d ever known was gone. Even Mrs. O’Leary had been there, sliced and bleeding in the pile of bodies on our living room floor.

 

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