Chosen (The Warrior Chronicles, 1)

by K. F. Breene

  “Which is why we’re going south. But that’s what I’ve been saying about the Shadow People—the Chosen is supposed to tame that,” the bearded man growled.

  “How do they know he’s the real deal? I’ve heard of some of them before.” The robust man motioned for the bar maid, currently delivering ale to another table.

  “Passed a bunch of tests or something. He’s an Inkna--has a ton of that mind-power stuff. More than anyone ever—that’s what they’re sayin’.” The bearded man let out a huff and flicked something off the table. “Load of bollocks if you ask me. Anyway, he’s on his way to get those Shadow People, but he’s waiting in Mirasoma for some scrolls or something.”

  “Mirasoma…sounds familiar.” The wiry man squinted his eyes, apparently trying to picture that place on his mental map. Shanti did likewise, but without the visual contortion.

  “By the ocean. Anyway, doesn’t matter,” the bearded man continued. “That ghost is back.”

  All three men hushed as the bar maid bustled over, a smile in place, ready to take their orders.

  Shanti’s mind was whirling. Another Chosen! One with a bunch of power. And he’d passed the milestones…

  It was a he. The scrolls the Shamas had had always spoke of the Chosen as a male. It was thought the ancient Seers couldn’t predict sex and just went with a male default, but…if the man proclaiming himself the Chosen passed the tests, it meant he was truly the Chosen. A he.

  Something in her chest constricted, and then sank, confusion soaking up her thoughts. She didn’t really know how she felt. She’d lived with that burden for so long… All her people had sacrificed themselves so that she might live. For all of that to be a lie… For her whole life to have been a lie…

  Rushing filled her ears and her head got light. A strange disappointment settled deep into the pit of her stomach.

  “Miss?” she heard, having her looking up distractedly.

  The bar maid’s eyes went wide as she met Shanti’s gaze. Shock and fear radiated from her, a reaction to the violet eyes, no doubt.

  Bloody—

  Shanti stayed deadly still, gripping each mind within that room. Wondering which way the winds would blow.

  “Do you want more water, Miss?” the woman asked in a whispy voice, taking out a charcoal and paper from the pockets of her apron. She angled her body and brought her hands in close, hiding her activity under the shelf of her large bosom. “Or shall I call the bath for you?”

  The charcoal worked for a moment before the woman dropped the paper to the table. On it was written, “Not safe. U brin truble. Go room.”

  “A bath will be fine. Please get me when it’s ready,” Shanti said in an even voice.

  “’Course, Miss.” The bar maid bobbed and hurried away, anxiety shedding from her mind in sheets.

  “Yeah, he took out another Commander last night. A hundred spans from here. They say he’s fair, like that violet eyed girl,” the bearded man was saying.

  Shanti furrowed her eyebrows with that description, the disappointment from a moment ago turning into shock. There would only be one person matching her description who would travel across the land after her.

  “There ain’t no such thing as a violet eyed girl.” The wiry man shifted with a wave of his hand.

  “Yes there is!” the robust deserter said adamantly. “Yes there is. They tried to keep that hushed up, but I know a guy that saw her. Chased her, too. She’s this huge woman, though. Massive. The strength of two men. It’s no wonder she always got away, you know what I’m saying? And she’s got that mind mumbo-jumbo, too, so…”

  “Yeah, right. No woman’s that big,” the wiry guy said in a dry voice.

  “Well, they say that ghost is related to her. Sneaks in, kills, sneaks back out—looks like her. She must be real if the ghost looks like her,” the robust deserter said in a matter-of-fact tone.

  “Yeah, he—“

  The bearded man was cut off as the door swung open with a thud, someone having kicked the door to gain entrance. With a heart trying to rip out of her chest, wondering if what the men said was true, wondering if Rohnan, her Chance, was really still alive, the worst thing happened. Four men wearing the unmistakable black with the red circle on their chest walked in the door.

  Shanti’s bones went cold right before heat flared. Fear and rage pumped in her blood.

  Graygual.

  The robust deserter next to her dropped his head, trying to hide his face as best he could. The other people in the common area hunched down on themselves, the classic sign of trying not to be noticed. And even though she wanted to kill them right now, wanted to get up and physically put her knife through their hearts, Shanti hunched like everyone else, trying to melt into the shadows as best she could.

  Through her lashes, Shanti could see the men swagger in, looking everyone over with self-importance smeared on their dirty faces. Their uniforms were wrinkled and filthy, their smell preceding them as they sauntered up through the tables.

  “What’s this?” one rasped, his body pointed toward Shanti. “Well, well, what have we here…”

  Shanti clutched his mind as her hand dropped to her side, easing a knife out of her leg brace from under the table.

  “Lookie here, Race,” the Graygual rasped, sauntering closer. “I do believe we’ll get some kudos with this find.”

  Shanti coiled. Her body surged with power.

  “It’s Gagna the Deserter.”

  Shanti froze as the table next to her jumped to life. A sword swung free from a sheath, Gagna rushing forward with metal at the ready. He caught the Graygual by surprise, sticking him through the stomach before Race could free his own sword and join the fray. The men by the deserter’s side had their weapons out, too, running at the Graygual with rusty swords.

  Everyone else cleared to the sides or left the room altogether, not wanting to be in the deadly battle. It was a good idea.

  Shanti bolted upright, sprinting along the bar and into that kitchen. There, as she hoped, she found the bar maid and the bartender, hiding out of sight.

  “We don’t want no trouble,” the bartender said as she stood over them, panting.

  “If the Graygual win this war, all you’ll have is trouble. If you live that long. The ghost—where is the ghost they speak of?” Shanti asked in desperation.

  “Wh-what?” the man asked with wide eyes.

  “The ghost,” Shanti urged as the sound of something heavy crashing through wood in the outer room. Someone dead having fallen on a table, most likely.

  “Last I heard, he was north-west. Them’s just tales, though,” the man pleaded as though asking for his life.

  “How long ago did you hear that?” Shanti asked, leaning closer.

  “A week, I think,” the bartender shuddered. “They’re looking for you. The violet-eyed girl. You shoulda stayed with that man. They say you and him can stand up to that Being Supreme, on a-count of you took out the Inkna… You can’t do much on your own--”

  Ignoring the continued dialogue, Shanti snatched up whatever food she could carry and headed for the back door. Before she left the kitchen, she turned back to the owner and the bar maid, the only two people left in the kitchen. “Fight the Being Supreme in any way you can. Any way you can, you hear me? Or this type of thing will get a whole lot worse.”

  She was out the door at their nods, skirting into the shadows and out of sight. She really should’ve gone for that bath first—now she’d have to bath in the first stream she found. It’d be cold.

  Running from one shadow to the next on light feet, she moved with the experience and grace of someone having spent a year being hunted. Leilius was good, but Shanti was the master. As she ran, her new plan rolled through her head.

  First thing, she needed to see if that ghost was Rohnan. If he lived, he belonged by her side. Family took priority.

  After that, she needed to deal with this new Chosen. There was no way Shanti could allow the disgusting Inkna, and through the
m, the destructive Graygual, to gain more force. Her new task was to take this Chosen down, and to do that, she needed power. She needed might. She needed someone as strong as she to unite against the Being Supreme.

  The bartender had been right--she needed Cayan.

  The day for duty was over. Now it was time for vengeance.

  The End

  ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  Thank you for taking the time to read my ebook.

  The Shadow Lands, Book 2 is in the works.

  For information on my other titles, please visit my website:

  http://kfbreene.com/

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  Check out another book by KF Breene:

  Into the Darkness (Darkness Series)

  Sasha has grown up with one surety: she’s not normal.

  She sees things in the darkness that no one else can see. Mysterious men cloaked in shadow, moving through the night. The problem is, pointing out invisible people is a fast track to a padded cell. Orphaned at age five, Sasha quickly learns an important survival tip: keep her mouth shut and stay out of the spotlight.

  Until one night, everything changes. She and her boyfriend, Jared, find themselves stranded on the wrong side of town. Suddenly, the men she was convinced were hallucinations, are very real. And very dangerous.

  As a new world opens up around her, she meets him. The Boss. An alpha leader who entrances her mind and tugs on her body. Primal and sexual, his people have a different set of rules. And they don’t always play nice.

  As danger rises up around her, her differences may be the only thing that saves her life. She must embrace what she’s tried so hard to hide, while resisting the person her body craves most. Sasha has finally found her shadow men, and they will change her life forever.

  Excerpt:

  As I met his black eyes, his puzzled expression deepened. “You’re human…”

  “We established that, yes. What I want to know is, if I am human, what does that make you? And why do I notice you when others usually don’t?”

  His head cocked to the side. His easy balance, his lethal edge; he was like a blade resting on billowing silk. “Very few humans are able to withstand our pheromones. Fewer still to break a Kolma once it has been placed. You’ve not been trained, that’s obvious; so how is this possible when you’re definitely human? Do you possess the blood of another species?”

  I could barely think past the pounding ache of my body, begging to touch him. I needed to get a grip! He was revealing some very interesting factoids I needed to jot down in my mental notebook.

  His nostrils flared. “Charles was right; your arousal is a unique scent. Like a spicy, warm drink on a mid-winter’s night. It rises above other smells, entrancing the mind.”

  “Umm,” charged with questions, determination, anger, and demands, I thrust forward, “Listen, what did you mean about withstanding the…pher-thing? Or breaking the other thing? How can you trap someone’s head with pleasure? Because I’m pretty sure—not positive, but pretty sure—that Jared is straight. And also, I really think we should circle back to what the hell you are, and why nobody knows that you exist? Because this whole people scattering thing is not normal, and I think an explanation is probably in order.”

  He stepped closer, not hearing me, or not caring that I spoke. His eyes looked at me like I was a life-sized riddle. They delved, searching. He took another step, forcing me to retreat two steps to keep distance between our bodies. Another step back had my back to the wall.

  A small smile curved his lips. “I exude pleasure, you run. I exude fear, you come calling. You want me, I can smell it. I can feel it, almost like a palpable thing. Give in to it. Yield to me.”

  Oh God I wanted to. His body was mere inches from mine, his intense eyes looking down into my soul from a face out of a Renaissance painting. The power of him, the sheer strength, had strange, primal fantasies running amok through my head. My core tingled, my chest surged, and my nipples were so hard they could cut this stone wall.

  Why had I come here, again?

  Into the Darkness (Darkness Series)