Phantoms of Dusk (Society of Magic Book 1)
Page 12
It took him in the heart, killing him between one heartbeat and the next that never came.
Chapter 30
By the time the battle ended, more Phantoms had arrived. They took care of rounding up Frost’s people, banishing them all to an interdimensional prison.
The usurpers wouldn’t escape. Before the end of the semester, the Phantoms of Dusk declared Elora Snow Caldwell their leader. Even Mer accepted it, which surprised Elora, but Mer shrugged it off.
“My ancestors said to keep an eye on you until you proved yourself. You did that.” And then she smiled. Elora wasn’t sure they’d ever be friends, not like her and Angela, who was stunned when Elora told her all that had happened, but they were no longer enemies.
“Well, Mer, my ancestors told me to trust my instincts. So I’m going to honor them by making you my chief advisor.” She grinned. “Maybe your experience will cancel out my lack.”
Mer laughed. “It’s worth a shot.”
Elora had every intention of finishing college. She even declared a major: Political Science. She didn’t want to make any more mistakes, and she thought that might be a good way to go about it. It was either that or Psychology, but she didn’t need help manipulating people. She’d rather learn how to govern without any “mind tricks.”
She and Angela left the dorms, telling the school administrators they were moving to off-campus housing. Elora told Angela to pick whichever bedroom she liked in Castle Caldwell. The only room that was off limits was her mother’s old room. That one belonged to Elora. Angela was thrilled with the change of venue, and even more thrilled that Elora considered her one of her advisors, too, though not as powerful or influential as Mer.
One afternoon toward the end of the winter break, Ripley and Elora were walking to the burger joint across the bridge. It was a cold day, but clear and dry. The snow that had fallen earlier in the season was still there, but crusty with age. It wasn’t good snowman snow anymore.
“You know, you have responsibilities now.” Ripley slid his arm around Elora’s waist and she reciprocated. “A ruler has to rule for everyone, and part of that is finding a suitable mate to make heirs.”
“Is that right? Are you offering?”
“I wish.” His voice was somber, not at all like him. “The truth is, Pretty Eyes, leaders don’t pick shifters. It’s usually from one of the higher families. It’s how things are done in our world. It’s what’s expected.”
She stopped, forcing him to stop too, and leaned into him. “You know, I’ve always been the kind of girl to do what’s expected of me. I don’t think I want to be that girl anymore.” She smiled up at him. “Believe it or not.”
His unhappy expression faded. “Oh, I definitely believe it.”
That lopsided grin Elora loved spread across his face, and he turned to face her. He pulled off his gloves and dropped them to the ground before cupping her face in those hands.
And then he kissed her, and suddenly all was right in Elora’s world.
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An Exclusive Look at Half-Blood Dragon Chapter One
Pirates, dragons, mermaids. Embark on a coming of age journey that will leave you breathless.
A lady-in-waiting's job is to follow orders. For Rowen, it is to execute her stepfather's plan to elevate the family's station by an advantageous marriage to the crown prince. Intrigue and seduction fill Rowen's days, but the prophecies that haunt her dreams at night warn her that death awaits.
The taunts of her sleepless nights are realized when she is framed and sentenced to death for the prince's murder.
For a human, there's nowhere to run and no one to turn to in a kingdom where power is tightly held by full-blooded dragon shifters.
It will take a stranger from the shadows to save Rowen from execution and reveal a truth full of terrifying potential. It is time for Rowen to find the courage to accept her fate, awaken her gift, and set the world on fire.
YOU’RE LUCKY TO be alive.
Those words resonated in Rowen’s mind as the noose was lowered over her head and secured around her throat, scratching her delicate flesh with its coarse banding.
Not so lucky now, she thought, noting that this was the third time she’d had this nightmare in a week.
Still, she couldn’t awaken. Not until she had more information. If she was going to suffer in her sleep, she was going to at least figure out the cause of the prophecy, and the result. It was all she had.
Her only mastered ability.
Rowen coughed as her airway began to close against the ropes. Was it supposed to be so tight? It didn’t matter, the wooden floor would soon disappear from beneath her and she would either break her neck from the sudden fall or suffocate.
Neither option was appealing.
Rowen looked out to the crowd of blank faces. She ignited her second sight and dug deeper into the prophecy, summoning energy from the deepest depths of her soul. She could tell the difference between a dream and a prophetic scene. It was harder to awaken from prophecy, and for good reason. There was something she needed to see. To survive, if only for a few years longer.
The people that filled the square around the gallows were nondescript. No features to their faces, and no sounds from their mouths. No movement, either. They just stood like stoic silhouettes and stared at her as she awaited her death.
A black shadow stretched across the sky, blocking the sun and dimming the courtyard. While everyone looked to the sky, Rowen’s gaze peered past them, to the gates.
But, wait. Something new was happening, something Rowen had never seen in the other dreams.
Someone stood at the far end of the yard, behind the crowd, cloaked in dark gray.
The mysterious figure lifted their hand and pointed a finger right at her.
Out of the silence that filled the crisp morning air, a whisper burned her ear.
“I’m coming for you.”
Then, the trap door in the floor opened and the snap of her neck woke Rowen up.
A screech erupted from her lips as she woke up, clutching at her neck. Rowen shot up from her bed. A sheen of sweat glistened on her face as she struggled to catch her breath.
The nightmares. They were relentless. But, this time, a new element had been added to her prophecy. The fates were warning her, and she needed a plan just in case the time came when she needed to escape.
Something or someone was coming for her, and she wracked her brain for who that could be.
“They know,” Rowen whispered into the darkness, as she struggled to catch her breath. Escape was the only way. Her plan to restore her mother’s honor would have to be abandoned.
Rowen crossed the small room and gave the sleeping girl in the bed across from hers a gentle shove.
“Brea. Wake up. I need that favor you owe me.”
A quick glance out the tiny window that looked out to the back of the palace showed that the path from the castle to the gates was clear.
“Really?” Brea yawned and sat up, her white bangs falling into dark almond-shaped eyes.
“Yes.” Rowen lowered herself to her knees before Brea’s bed. “Please tell me you will uphold your promise.”
Brea ti
lted her head. “I promised to help you escape if necessary. I will do what I can, Rowen.”
“But, what if we are caught?”
“No one will catch us. And, if they do, we are ladies-in-waiting for the princess. We can make something up. You’re a clever girl. I’m sure you can talk us out of any situation. I’ve seen you do it.”
“You are truly the best friend I’ve ever had,” Rowen said, giving Brea’s hand a squeeze.
“You as well, dear. I will miss you. We all will.”
“I’m ready,” Rowen said as she shoved on her traveling frock and boots. Once her cloak was secure around her shoulders and fastened at the neck, she strapped her money purse to her thigh. It would be unwise to leave with a bag. There could be no suspicion from the palace guards.
At first, becoming a lady-in-waiting for the princess seemed like a welcome escape from her stepfather’s constant scrutiny. With her new life came hope and an opportunity to restore honor to her mother’s family name.
Little did she know that Withraen Castle would be significantly worse. Since childhood her prophecies had been harmless. She’d always been one step ahead of whatever fate threw at her.
Now, a mysterious being haunted her. Remaining in the palace only led Rowen one step closer to the fate of her prophecy. She had to find a way to prevent that horrible death.
Ready, Rowen watched Brea dress herself. With a nod, they left the safety of their apartment adjacent to the princess’ room and entered the dark hallway of Withrae Castle’s east wing.
Macana, their chaperone would be fast asleep in her room right beside theirs. If they were quiet, they could escape unnoticed. But, they had to be quick and confident.
Brea put a finger to her lips and nodded for Rowen to follow.
Rowen chose her accomplice wisely. Brea had a gift that could save them both if caught. They crept down the stone hallway, careful not to let the soles of their boots make any noise. Clutching her opal necklace, Rowen tried to keep her face free of fear as they walked past the princess’ royal guards.
Brea gave one a nod, knowing that he was sweet on her.
The stairway at the end of the hall led to the back corridors and a series of secret tunnels that they’d practiced using with the princess in case enemies stormed the castle.
“This way,” Brea whispered. She led Rowen down the stairs and to large sitting room. She hurried across the carpeted floor to the paneled wall. Rowen chewed her bottom lip as she watched Brea feel around for the hidden door. With a push, it was opened, and freedom awaited on the other end of the tunnel.
“Come.”
Rowen couldn’t run fast enough. They slipped through the secret door and into the dark tunnel.
“Smells of old rainwater in here,” Brea said, running her hand along the slick stone.
“I don’t care, as long as we make it outside.”
“Do not worry, dear. You forget what I can do.”
Rowen hadn’t forgotten. She was just hopeful that they wouldn’t need Brea’s unique ability.
The large stone door at the end of the tunnel was a beacon of hope. It was so close, yet so far. They couldn’t help but quicken their speed to reach it. Reaching it was a small victory. Getting out of the castle’s fortified structure would be a more difficult feat.
The dark cloak of night wrapped around Rowen and Brea as they carefully wedged the door open and slipped outside. The air was humid, and the sky a dull purple shade. Soon, the sun would rise, and dragons from all over would take to the skies.
To fly. Rowen closed her eyes and wished she could do what everyone in the kingdom did without effort. To transform and outstretch her wings would be bliss. But, Rowen could not fly. No matter how hard she tried.
Rowen rubbed her arm where a dull ache lingered from a failed attempt only years ago. It was her last attempt—one where she’d nearly killed herself trying.
Together, Rowen and Brea ran across the yard for what felt like miles. Breathless, they stopped just at the bars of the gate that reached high above them and ended at the stone structure that encircled the entire castle grounds. Four gates, and this was the one with the least amount of guards as it faced the cliffs that led right into the Perilean Sea.
“The guards are about to change shifts,” Brea whispered. “I can carry you over the gate and land just beyond the main road. Then, we can walk to the Gatekeeper’s station. She can port you home or wherever you want to go!”
Rowen narrowed her eyes as she watched four guards leave their posts as four more walked toward the front post in their armor.
“Did you save enough coins for your trip with the Gatekeeper?”
Rowen nodded. “I saved everything.”
“Good,” Brea said, folding her arms across her chest. “You should be able to catch a port from Withrae to Harrow with four gold zullies.”
Harrow, the biggest sea port in all of Draconia, and on the border that separated the human realm from the Dragon realm.
Her home.
The wind blew at Rowen, whipping strawberry blonde hair around her face as she wrapped her pale hands around the dark bars of the gates of the palace. The cold brass was soothing, despite the nerves that burned in her belly.
Freedom.
She yearned for it above all things in the world. For as long as she could remember, she lived her life for others, with no regard for her own wishes or desires. Back at the palace, there was a silent battle she had no clue how to fight. But, beyond those gates was an even bigger battle she was too afraid to face.
The world was vast. How long before she was swallowed up by it? How long before she ended up dead?
“Are you sure about this?”
“We can do it. The guards won’t even see us if you hold my hand. See?” She peeled Rowen’s left hand from around the bar and held it within her own.
A warm sensation filled Rowen’s body as Brea held onto her. Rowen looked from Brea’s dark brown eyes and down at her hand.
“Look, I can make you vanish as well. As long as we touch,” Brea said with a smile as she used her vanishing gift.
Rowen’s hand and arm disappeared before her eyes, and Brea was nowhere to be seen when she looked up again.
Clever gift. She wished she had a power as great as Brea’s. Still, the ability to vanish could only get them so far.
There was another world out there beyond the dragon kingdom she’d grown up in. She’d read of vast oceans and mountains, human villages and fairies. Beyond the tall brass gates was a worn path that led to the center of the kingdom of Withrae.
Once they reached the city, what then?
The free clothes, room, board, and prestige were highly coveted. Rowen’s mother would call her a fool is she showed up at home before her duties had been carried out.
Rowen chewed her bottom lip, her thick brows furrowing. This wasn’t the time for doubts, but her options were limited. She needed more than a few coins to make it in their world.
“What’s wrong?”
Rowen sighed and pressed her forehead to the gate. “I can’t go back home just yet. The Duke would just send me back by first light.”
The Duke of Harrow had always hated Rowen. She was a thorn in his side since the day he married her mother. For as long as she could remember, he sent her away for every training imaginable. Languages in Summae, dancing in Dubrick, embroidery at the School for Fine Arts in Luthwig. And at eighteen, he sent her away to be a lady-in-waiting for Princess Noemie of Withraen Castle. She was merely one out seven ladies-in-waiting, yet she was singled out at every opportunity.
Brea put a hand on Rowen’s. The red shimmer of her skin reflected the moonlight. In seconds, they vanished.
“Shhh, someone is coming,” Brea whispered.
Rowen tensed and peered through the bars of the gate. A rolling cart pulled by a horse with a weary-looking old man approached the gate.
“Who is it?”
“I don’t know,” Rowen said. “I think he’s ma
king a delivery.”
“Come,” Brea said. “Let’s just go back. If you’re worried about Prince Rickard, don’t. The prince will grow weary of pursuing you before you know it. Beautiful girls come to the castle by the boatload. His eye will wander.”
“It’s not just that,” Rowen murmured. “I’m afraid.”
“Of what?”
Rowen wrung her hands. “That something terrible is going to happen to me if I stay here.”
Together, they left the gate and headed back to the castle. Brea took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Then, we try another night. We make a plan. I’ll transform and you can ride on my back.”
“But, I’m just thinking of how lost I am. I have nowhere to go.”
“Listen to me, Rowen. My parents aren’t as bad as most Dragons. If you are a friend of mine, they would take you in with open arms. Not all Dragons are prejudiced toward half-blood humans.”
“Most are,” Rowen quipped.
Brea wouldn’t know. She was a full-blooded Dragon from high society. She couldn’t have known what Rowen had seen and experienced throughout her life. In Harrow, half-bloods were more common, and she’d witnessed the cruelty to her people. Her title saved her from most of the negativity, but it was always there in the eyes of Dragons.
“Go to my home in Kabrick. I’ll send you with a letter. My father and mother can find you a new station.”
“I don’t want that, Brea. I don’t want to be a burden. I want to be free.”
“You want to go to the human kingdoms, don’t you?” Brea asked.
With long white hair and a hint of red scales on certain areas of her olive-colored skin, Brea was considered plain by Dragon standards. Women of beauty had a brighter shimmer to their skin, and a glow to their hair.
Like Rowen’s mother.
Rowen could never be as beautiful as her mother either. Short, thin, with dull gray eyes that never shown any light, and pale skin absent of any shimmering scales, Rowen was simply different.