Brent laughed and it reminded me of the slippery, velvety notes of jazz. “You can’t get rid of me now. Well, I guess you could.”
“I don’t want to,” I said quickly, turning toward him.
Brent licked his lips and wiped his hands on his jeans. “Good. I don’t care where we live, Yara. I can make a life anywhere, be happy anywhere, as long as we’re together. I’m not dying. I actually have a future now, and I want to spend every moment of it with you.”
He slid off the chair onto one knee and took my hands in his. “Yara, will you marry me?”
I pulled my hands free so they could cover my mouth as it let out a happy sob. Unable to speak, I nodded, tears threatening to fall.
“So that’s a yes, right?” Brent asked.
“Yes,” I managed.”
Grinning, Brent tugged my left hand away from my face and slipped a pear shaped diamond onto my finger. It glittered in the firelight, sparkling with promise, just like the years that lay ahead of us.
I threw myself into his arms as he stood. He hugged me tight and swung me around, both of us laughing, crying, and kissing.
He rested his forehead against mine. “You’re sure? I’m not letting you change your mind if you say yes again.”
“Yes,” I whispered and leaned in to kiss my fiancé.
I glanced around the campus one more time, breathing in the clean spring air.
“So, how are we going to break the news to your mom?”
Brent threw back his head and laughed. “Oh, she’s all for us getting married now.”
“Seriously?” Was he talking about the same woman who could barely stand to be in the same room as me?
“Are you kidding?” He raised an eyebrow and shook his head. “You saved my life. She loves you. She said she wants grandkids as soon as possible.”
The blood drained from my face. “Great. Just great.”
Brent gently tapped my chin. “I, uh, haven’t talked to your dad yet. I was kinda hoping you could hide the key to his sword collection before I ask.”
He intertwined his fingers with mine.
“I thought you liked to live dangerously.” I grinned and followed him toward the car. “If you had to choose between fighting Crosby again or facing my dad, who would you choose?”
“Crosby. Hands downs.” Brent opened the car door for me. “Have you seen your dad with his swords?”
I raised one eyebrow. “You sure I’m worth it?”
Brent’s teasing smile faded. “Without a doubt.”
He kissed me one more time, a sweet promise of our future together, one I couldn’t wait to start living.
The End.
Acknowledgements
I’d like to thank:
My wonderful beta-readers. If I forgot any of you, I apologize in advance!
Erica Cameron. From the texting and three-hour Skype sessions, to the proofreading and editing, this book would not have happened without her help.
Alma Tait for designing the beautiful covers for this series.
My husband for his constant support, and for being my editor and best friend.
My two children who always know when to give encouraging words and supportive hugs.
My parents, who taught me the values of hard work and determination.
My sister Melanie for being such an inspiration.
Cherie Mendoza who stepped up and did a quick read through when I desperately needed one, even though she was getting married in less than a week.
Melonie Piper for helping me out with the first few chapters, praising the first draft and being such an important part of the whole series.
Maddy for being a constant in my life and cheering on my writing.
Angela Corbett for her awesome proofreading skills and her ability to catch the things I missed. I’m so grateful for all her experience that she willingly shared with me.
Yara Santos for being a friend, reviewer, and generally awesome person.
Nicole Giles for her feedback. I’m so glad she’s my cupcake buddy.
Kristen for her last minute proofreading.
Janette and Faith Rallison for letting me use their names.
Heather McCubbin for being a fantastic and fast beta reader.
Kamilla Quast and the team at Pendrell for their support and belief in my books.
Ana, Stephanie, and Delco for being Yara and Brent.
All of the bloggers who helped me spread the word about my series.
My fans of the series for loving the books and my characters! I’m grateful for anyone who took a chance and read my books.
Author Bio - Lani
Lani Woodland has been an avid reader since elementary school, when she first discovered the Babysitters Club and Sweet Valley Twins series. In sixth grade, she began writing plays and recruiting (with force when necessary) her friends to act them out. Most of these early works were inspired by She-Ra, the epitome of girl power to her young self.
Lani has always loved scary stories has a hard time enjoying any book without at least a little romance in it. She graduated from BYU with a BS in Family Science. She lives in Southern California with her husband, their two children and a large collection of board games. She has worked as a spot-welder, babysitter, janitor, photographer, gymnastics coach, and movie extra. She enjoys bonfires at the beach, hole-in-the-wall restaurants, speed talking, chocolate as a cure-all, and the word "precisely."
Lani is the author of THE YARA SILVA TRILOGY, including: Intrinsical, Indelible, and Inevitable. She also co-wrote the pirate adventure Pieces of Jade and two short stories in Transcendent: Tales of the Paranormal.
She loves hearing from readers. You can contact her here:
https://twitter.com/LaniWoodland
https://www.facebook.com/authorlaniwoodland
http://laniwoodland.blogspot.com/
Also by Lani Woodland
Pieces of Jade
Written by Lani Woodland and Melonie Piper
Sentenced to death by the man she loves . . .
Jade has no control over her future. She is the Emmía, the girl whose magical blood keeps her kingdom’s cursed soil fertile and ensures the survival of her people. But her destiny is ruined when pirates take her magical medallion, the loss of which is treasonous, and the prince she loves is honor-bound to sentence her to death.
Forced to flee to the pirate she hates . . .
Jade escapes from prison, but her sister is captured and will die in her place unless Jade returns with the medallion still on the pirates’ ship. In disguise, she joins the pirate crew where she finds herself drawn to the first officer, William, and his claims of the crown’s hidden brutality in the kingdom. But when Jade learns the fate of every Emmía before her, she is finally forced to choose her own destiny: die a martyr or live a rebel.
Now available.
Continue reading for a sample of Pieces of Jade
Chapter 1
The engagement ring encircling my finger felt like a hangman’s noose. Sometimes—just sometimes—the gallows seemed preferable to my upcoming marriage to a man I didn’t love. Today, on the day before my wedding, hanging definitely sounded more appealing. Candlelight flickered off the row of encrusted diamonds embedded in the band and I concentrated on their shine rather than the blade poised to cut across my left palm.
Gabrielle brought the knife down, slicing along the sinuous scar to reopen the old wound. For centuries, every Emmía before me had knelt in this same room of the castle with this same spelled knife. Each and every one had willingly bled for her people. I shifted on my knees, but the stone floor still carried the early morning chill into my bones and the fire sputtering in the hearth did little as a draft crept down the chimney.
A rivulet of blood warmed my palm as it ran down my fingers, cascading over the gold of my ring and coating the diamonds, hiding the gleam of the gems. Prince August insisted I wear it at all times, even now during the blood-letting, as if he needed the constant claim of ownershi
p. Like the collar on a favored hound.
How appropriate that the blood would envelop the symbol of my engagement to him.
And tomorrow I will be a wife. His wife. Tied to the handsome Crown Prince. Girls throughout the land would envy me—I’d heard the jealous comments often enough. Strange how one person’s dream could be another’s nightmare.
Despite being lined by age, Gabrielle stood tall as she motioned for me to extend my right hand. Her auburn hair was pulled into a tight bun, adding to the severity of her angular face and accentuating her willowy figure, and the way she frowned made it seem like my now stinging left hand hadn’t given enough blood. I bit my lip, prepared for the pain as I stared at my favorite tapestry in the corner. After years of such ceremonies, I should be used to the sting—the parting of my flesh. But when Gabrielle milked the cuts for better flow, I gritted my teeth to keep from whimpering.
The tapestry was of Princess Dawn. Older than all the others, with their heroic depictions of battles won and enemies defeated, this ancestor of mine was the only woman to grace any within the castle. Princess Dawn—the original Emmía. The first to bleed for her people, the first to save them from starvation. Seeing her image—the violet eyes, the blonde hair, the crimson streaks dripping from her hands—gave me strength.
On the dais sat three thrones. At the center, the largest throne was empty. Beside it sat my fiancé, August, his eyes trained on the bowl collecting my blood. I tried to ignore the small smile on his lips. Instead, my eyes moved to his brother, James, who sat in the throne on the other side, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose and his eyes averted.
I could feel my strength leaving my body with every heartbeat, the loss of blood taking its toll. Beneath me, the ridges of the etching on the stone floor dug into my knees. After each ceremony, parts of the king’s coat of arms—an edict medallion set over a bloody dagger, the necklace’s chain wrapped around the dagger’s hilt, and a small shoot of plant pushing through fertile soil—were almost branded into my skin where I knelt. Even the layer of skirts didn’t cushion the unforgiving floor.
As soon as the sacred container was full, Gabrielle and her two assistant Guardians held it aloft and began to sing in unison.
“Blood collected in candlelight, may you fertilize the kingdom’s soil and feed the people. May the blood loss that weakens the Emmía empower the Kingdom of Orea.”
Every blood ceremony ended with the Guardians, our magical protectors, chanting over my sacrifice. It’d been done this way since Princess Dawn had been brought from her island home to marry the Orean prince.
When the chanting ended, Gabrielle sealed the bowl and moved away. I longed to follow them—to actually see the kingdom’s cursed soil drink up my healing blood. Maybe if I saw that, I wouldn’t despise letting them open my veins twice a month.
But instead of leaving, Gabrielle returned with another bowl cupped in her palms. An empty one. She poised the knife above my wrist and I pulled back, startled.
“What’s this?” James demanded, rising from his throne. “You can’t seriously expect her to give more?”
Gabrielle’s eyes were fixed on August, the blade held motionless as she awaited his verdict.
“The king approved it.” August waved his hand in the air. “Continue.”
James turned toward his brother. “But the wrist—once cut, it’s hard to stop the bleeding.”
“Stop being so daft, James. They’ll use magic.”
James slumped back in his throne, his lips pressed tight.
One of the assistant Guardians grabbed my hand while Gabrielle slid the edge of the blade down my wrist, the pain quick and intense. The blood flowed faster than it had from my palm. I watched, fascinated at the pattern it created on my pale skin. Before the bowl was half full, the room around me grew dim, my eyes unable to focus. Pinpricks of yellow exploded in my vision, and my head swayed. I tried to kneel nobly for my kingdom, but I felt myself slump forward onto the cool stone of the altar, my edict medallion pressing against my chest as darkness overcame me.
Two angry voices dragged me back from unconsciousness. I was lying on my back on a thick rug, but my eyes were too heavy to open. James and August argued above me.
“They took too much!” James shouted.
“It was hardly a significant increase,” August said calmly. “She accepts it. Why can’t you?”
“How can you accept it? Jade just fainted.”
“You care too much. She’s my fiancée.”
“As if you’d let me forget.” James huffed as his footsteps retreated and the antechamber doors swung open. “Someone send for Pearl,” James ordered. “Tell her that her sister needs her.”
Pearl. She was only a few years older than I was, but somehow she felt wiser, more mature. She always knew the right thing to say, and exactly how far she could push her opinions with August, stopping just before he could have reason to punish her.
I forced my eyes open. The gilded ceiling swung in and out of focus. A chandelier with flickering candles hung from the beam that arched the ceiling. Even though the sun had risen an hour ago, the room was darkened from the thick drapes that were always shut during the ceremony.
I closed my eyes again and the gentle rustle of fabric alerted me that someone knelt beside me. James. I recognized the smell of his clove scented shoe polish.
“Jade? Can you hear me?”
Despite how faint I felt, I smiled. “I hear you, James.”
“See, she’s perfectly fine,” August said.
James’s coat brushed my cheek as he moved closer to me. “Your definition of ‘fine’ is very different than mine.”
Light, hurried footsteps and the sound of jostling jars drifted from across the room. My eyes slitted open enough to see my sister taking out her healing materials from her traveling kit.
Pearl gasped. “They cut the wrist? I can’t believe . . . James, how could you let them?”
“The cuts are already closed over,” August said. “Really, why is everyone making such a fuss?”
Pearl’s touch was gentle and the burning in my palms lessened as she applied lavender oil, and I was finally able to focus on those in the room.
Pearl shook her head. “They didn’t seal these properly.”
“I was afraid of that,” James said. “After she fainted, they hurried through the rest of the ceremony, spending very little time on the healing magic.”
Pearl took a deep breath. “She fainted? And they didn’t stop?”
“It wasn’t the first time.” August clasped his hands behind his back, a lock of his curled brown hair falling into his eyes and his thin face resolute. “She’ll be fine.”
“The more blood you take, the more dangerous it becomes for her.” Pearl brought a glass to my lips and urged me to swallow. “If you take that much, she’ll need longer than two weeks to recover between ceremonies.”
August’s lips twisted into a smile that could freeze fire. “Are you giving me an order?”
Pearl dropped her head. “Of course not, my Lord. It is merely my recommendation as her healer that she needs longer to rest.”
“I’m sure I could find other healers that would disagree with you.”
The corner of Pearl’s lips pinched together before she nodded. “I’m sure you’re correct, your Majesty.”
James held my arm, careful to avoid my injured wrist and palm. My heart skipped at the feel of his fingers and the way they caressed me through the material of my dress. It felt wonderful to have him close. He’d been distant this week and I’d feared he’d been angry.
James’s other hand twisted in my hair. “Surely we have enough of her blood stockpiled until the birth of the next Emmía.”
“Two hundred years is a long time, little brother.” August sounded exasperated as he settled back onto his throne.
James gritted his teeth. “I’m not daft.”
“But you haven’t been raised to rule. I can’t afford to worry about the indi
vidual. I have to consider what’s best for the kingdom as a whole.” August leaned forward. “You can take comfort that she only has a few more years of bloodletting left.”
“How can you talk about Jade’s death like that?” James asked, tightening his hold on my arm. “She could live for decades.”
August shrugged. “She’d be the first. She knows who she is and what purpose her life serves, just as I do.” August’s palm slapped the arm of the throne. “We aren’t granted the same freedoms as you.”
“He’s right, James.” My voice was barely a whisper, but all eyes turned to me.
August and I were slaves to our roles. When I’d opened my eyes at birth, their violet coloring identified me as the next Emmía and had governed the path my life would take. “The kingdom needs my blood. I’m happy—” my voice broke on the word “—to provide for the people.”
“Even if it leaves you too weak to survive the childbed like it has the other Emmías?” Pearl asked, soft enough for only me to hear. The fire’s gleam flickered on her olive skin and delicate features, her golden hair tumbling forward and almost hiding the look of fear on her face. Fear for me—for my death. If not for my pale skin and violet eyes, we could be mirror images. Maybe that was what made her question my fate as no one else had.
“As long as I keep alive the Emmía line, I accept that for myself,” I whispered.
She dabbed the lavender to my wrists more firmly than necessary. “That’s what worries me.”
James sighed, his handsome features troubled. “You would have been better off growing up on your family’s farm, living life like a normal girl.”
August scoffed. “How else could we keep the savages from stealing her? She needs our protection. Inside this farm girl—” He shuddered as if my low origins were contagious. If only it repulsed him enough that he refused to tie himself to me. “—runs the kingdom’s most precious commodity. She’s all that stands between our people and starvation.”
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