by Erin Hayes
It was Roald who learned the news. With shaking hands, he’d taken a phone call in the billiard hall that afternoon only to return looking ashen.
“Creon,” he’d said, looking at me with a startled expression on his face, “has called for your death. He is calling it regicide. He’s sent the suffocators for you and Hal.”
“Is there any news from the Gulfs?” I asked.
“They’ve gone to ground, back to the Gulf. They will not rise against you, Ink. They believe the prophecy.”
The scope of what was happening was starting to slowly congeal around me. If I could wrestle power from Creon, I could truly ally the Gulfs and Atlantics in the name of peace. And I could protect the freshwaters and the nagual.
“Ink,” Roald said with all seriousness. “We must defeat Creon.”
“Yes, but how?”
“We will fight,” Milne said. “With our dying breath.”
“What of the Atlantics?” I asked Roald. “Creon’s guards? The scouts? Will Seaton and the others turn against me?”
Roald shook his head. “I don’t know.”
I looked back at Milne. “We Atlantics should face Creon alone. I don’t want any of you to die because of my people.”
“We will die either way,” Imogen said. “But, we will die on our feet beside you.”
“If Creon wants the renegade mermaid and her nagual, let’s give him what he wants. Tell them you have us and arrange a meeting,” I told Roald.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
I cast a glance at Hal who nodded.
“Let’s lure the bloody king out of the deep,” I said, my back tingling as waves of rage threatened to spill out of me.
Hours later, I found myself staring at the waves rolling onto Cocoa Beach. From the other side of Florida, I could feel the Gulfs holding their breath as they waited for the outcome of this night. I hoped I survived long enough to make amends. All these years I had blamed the Gulfs for my parents’ death. And all along, their real killer had slept in the same home as me.
It was Creon who rose out of the ocean first, his trident in hand, his long white hair lying wet on his chest. A warlike beast, on land he was an impressive specimen. He rose slowly, surprised to find all of us waiting to meet him on that dark stretch of beach. I saw his brow furrow. He’d expected to see Hal and me bound and gagged, waiting for his majesty’s judgment, not to see every aquatic shifter in Cocoa Beach on the beach. But Creon had told his suffocators to bring Hal and me there, and that is what they had done.
Roald and the other Atlantics stood around Hal and me. I looked up at him. Hal’s face was hidden in the shadow of the hood he’d pulled over his head, but I could feel the rage growing inside him. There was an exceptional strength in him that he could barely control. The air around him vibrated with fury.
Behind me, I heard Imogen take in a sharp breath, but she did not move. I honored her bravery.
The mers of my tribe rose from the waters around Creon, a deadly looking force, their weapons glimmering in the moonlight. They’d come prepared, already transformed into human form, ready to drywalk. They were clothed in black and armed. Creon had brought at least three dozen mers, including my scouts. Among them, I saw Seaton who rose from the water behind Creon. His face was stony.
“You have the traitor?” Creon called. I could see him eyeing the assembled group. Surely, Creon would realize that these men were not his allies. But then again, Creon was not one to be bothered with the lesser of our kind.
“We have,” Roald replied.
“And the nagual?”
“Yes,” Roald answered.
“Cut his throat,” Creon replied, motioning for two of his most loyal guards to step forward.
“No,” I said then.
“Murderous mermaid,” Creon spat, “how dare you speak?”
“Do you fear my words, Creon? Are you afraid the tribe will hear me speak the truth?”
“Silence!”
When the guards rushed Hal, he bolted forward to meet them, his bare feet moving quickly across the sand. Hal kicked one of the mers so hard he fell back into a crumpled heap. The other got a punch in, but Hal stopped him, slamming the merman onto the earth. Neither man got up, but they were still alive.
“Enough,” Creon yelled then strode forward onto the beach, brandishing his trident before him. “What is this incompetence? Someone grab the nagual.”
“No,” I said again.
“You were always a willful one, weren’t you? King killer,” Creon said loudly, “you and your nagual lover must pay for this regicide. King Manx is dead because of you, mermaid. You assembled naguals, you brine-water mers, step aside so we may deal with this treacherous lot. Advance, Atlantics, and take them,” Creon called, motioning to the army behind him.
I stepped down the beach toward them and looked at my people, making eye contact with Seaton and the others. “Lay down your arms, my brothers and sisters,” I called. “The real killer stands before you here. Creon, son of Hytten, I charge you with the murders of Dauphin, Coral, and King Manx. Creon has lied to us for years. He killed my parents. It was he who ordered the death of Manx, planning to place the blame for his—and my own—murder on the renegade suffocators whom you see standing around me. But it was Creon’s people who did the killing. These brothers and sisters standing here with me left Creon’s rule when he and Manx ordered the genocide of the remaining freshwaters and naguals. I was supposed to die alongside Manx. But I lived and learned the truth. Search your hearts. You know me. Would I murder the king of the Gulfs? How many of you have doubted the story of my parents’ death? Atlantics, lay down your arms.”
“Usurper! Liar,” Creon shouted, but his face betrayed him. He was found out. At long last, his treachery was unveiled. The muscles around his eyes twitched.
Seaton tossed his blades on the beach. Achates and the other scouts following suit behind him. Moments later, my brethren, the Atlantic mers, laid their blades down and bowed their heads to me.
“You will stand trial for your crimes,” I told Creon. “After you’ve had a little time to think over your rash behavior in the shallows.”
“Never,” Creon said, then moved quickly toward me. With a hurl, he threw his trident at me.
“Ink,” Roald yelled.
Hal, however, moved fast, putting himself between the trident and me.
I had no time to think. I let out a shrill so loud that it knocked the mers behind me to their knees. I shrieked, the sound waves moving around Hal, then in the direction of the trident and the king. I could see the sound rippling through the air. Somewhere in the distance, glass shattered, and I heard a car alarm whine. The mers standing on the beach behind Creon covered their sensitive ears with their hands. They went down on their knees into the surf. Between Hal and the king, the trident stopped midair and then burst into a thousand pieces which flew backward, piercing Creon like a thousand tiny daggers.
The king of the Atlantic screamed in agony as a large piece of his trident slammed into his chest. He clutched it then fell backward onto the beach.
A second later, the song dissipated, leaving only a bonging echo. I rushed to Hal who had fallen in the wake of the siren song.
“Hal,” I gasped, falling on my knees beside him, “are you hurt?”
He grinned at me. “My ears are ringing, but I’m alive.”
I held him, my body shaking, then gazed at Creon. Blood oozed from the massive piece of metal lodged into his chest. Streaks of blood marred the sand and water around him.
Taking a deep breath, I helped Hal stand then turned and faced the Atlantics.
“Is everyone all right? Is anyone hurt?” I called to them.
At first, no one spoke. They stood looking in awe. Then, Seaton stepped forward.
“Hail Queen Ink,” Seaton called then, “the Siren Queen.”
“Hail the Siren Queen,” the Atlantics chimed after him, kneeling in the water which was tinged with Creon’s blood.
“Hail the Siren Queen,” Imogen called, bowing. The other freshwater mers joined her.
“Hail,” Hal said then bowed, the naguals joining him.
For a moment, I stood motionless. The turn of events seemed so strange, so unbelievable.
“All of you, please rise. My friends, we have important work that must be done.”
“What work is that, my Queen?” Seaton called to me. I couldn’t help but notice the proud expression on his face.
I looked back at Hal who was smiling at me. Waves of love emanated from him.
“True peace.”
Epilogue
My hand hung out the open window of Hal’s car. I scooped light and air into my palm. We were driving away from Pensacola back to Cocoa Beach, which I now called home. I gazed out at the dunes. It was a pity that the Gulf had become poisonous. The white beaches looked like they were made of sugar, the surf a lovely sapphire blue. Maybe one day the Great Mother Ocean would heal the waters, but not yet. Not yet. I closed my eyes, inhaled the perfume of the ocean, and thought about the conversation that had taken place that morning.
“I saw you in the smoke, in the fire, the mermaid from the prophecy. We knew you were coming, but we did not expect things to end like this. Yet that is the way of things,” the mamiwata said that morning as we—the cecaelia, mamiwata, the Queen Mother of the Gulf, Hal, and me—sat on the deck of a nearly-empty café overlooking the ocean.
“After a lifetime of watching Gulfs and Atlantics kill one another for power, my son no different than his father or grandfather before him, it really isn’t a bad thing to suddenly find a mermaid on the throne in the Atlantic,” the Queen Mother had said. “Bittersweet.”
I took her hand. “I am sorry for your loss. He died in my arms. I couldn’t do anything to save him, and I am sorry for it,” I told her. There had been no love between Manx and me, and given the way he was, I doubted any love could have ever grown there. But in the end, he had died because he had wanted to save his people.
She nodded kindly, patting my hand. “When we first met, I told you that you are my daughter. I meant it. With Manx’s death, our line is finished. Our race is nearly finished. The Gulfs will rely on you now, Ink, to guide us, protect us, lead us.”
“With all my heart, I will do my best.”
“With heart,” the cecaelia said then, sipping her Bloody Mary. “What else can we ask for?”
As I sat beside Hal, driving away from that small, strange gathering, I thought about my new role, my new life. I was now queen of the Atlantics, the Gulfs, naguals, and freshwaters all under my protection.
I reached out and took Hal’s hand.
“Are you all right?” he asked me.
“What more could I ask for?”
Hal lifted my hand, kissing it softly.
I closed my eyes and directed my energy toward the ocean. I let a nearly soundless siren song emanate from me. I felt the fathomless deep, the sea life, and the Great Mother Ocean. Her energy was alive, and soon, I would bring back her ways.
I smiled as I remembered a question Manx had asked me my first night in Miami. “What are you going to do with all that power, Ink?” I didn’t know what to tell him then, but now I knew. I would rule. I looked back at Hal who smiled at me. I would rule, with heart.
The End
Thank you for reading Ink. If you enjoyed the story, would you mind leaving a review and let other potential readers know? Word of mouth is an author’s best friend! I love hearing from readers. Join my spam-free newsletter for VIP cover reveals, release information, giveaways, and freebies: Click to JOIN or visit me at MelanieKarsak.com
Acknowledgments
With special thanks to the amazing authors of the BIC group and my fellow Falling in Deep authors.
With gratitude to Becky Stephens, Pauline Creeden, and Naomi Clewett for their hands in crafting this book.
Many thanks to the Airship Stargazer Ground Crew! Thanks for all you do!
With love to my sister mermaids, Carrie Wells & Karyn Ott.
As always, special thanks to my family for all their support.
About the Author
Melanie Karsak is the NYT bestselling author of the Airship Racing Chronicles, The Harvesting Series, and The Celtic Blood Series. A steampunk connoisseur, Shakespeare nerd, white elephant collector, and zombie whisperer, the author currently lives in Florida with her husband and two children. She is an Instructor of English at Eastern Florida State College.
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Academia of the Beast
K.N. Lee
Academia of the Beast Copyright © 2016 by K.N. Lee
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Academia of the Beast
What if the beauty was the mortal enemy of the beast?
Raised in fear of her power.
Sold and betrayed by her lover.
Allyn escaped the hunters once before. As a witch, she risks capture every day.
Now, she lives in the slums of the opulent kingdom of Elastria, where the Winter Winds are brutal, and force everyone into their homes for the entire season. When one of her best friends receives an invitation to the end of season Winter Ball, Allyn would rather sulk about her boyfriend leaving her instead of partying at the most exclusive club in the kingdom.
A chance encounter with the crown prince of Elastria sparks hope for a brighter future, one where she might find true love. All hopes are dashed when she's tricked by her ex-boyfriend and turned in for the bounty on her head.
Now, a prisoner in an eerie castle where the servants are...peculiar, the walls whisper, and the prince's mysterious twin brother struggles with the decision to keep or kill the witch he's hunted and once lost, Allyn struggles with the desire to tame the beast within the prince, or escape to freedom.
The curse of the castle is strong. But, the magic hiding inside Allyn might be more powerful than she or the prince realized.
Foreword
There were dark times in the era of the Baran clan. From the highlands of the old days when magic was deemed a myth, they rose to power after the global war that left most of the world desolate and eternally ruined by weapons of science and dark magic.
The first Baran to assert himself as king made it so that no one would ever challenge them. Those with magic were exiled to the other kingdoms, or executed.
Elastria would be a human land, free of the taint of supernatural beings.
Rulers by birthright, they stood unchallenged for centuries, their people too afraid to stand against the tyranny that nearly pitted Elastria in another world war with the remaining nine tribes. For a group of humans to rule so ruthlessly, and actually, stand against the supernatural beings of the other tribes, it was rumored that there was more to the Barans, that they were descendent from an ancient evil.
That all changed.
With a witch.
And a curse.
Prologue
ALLYN RACED THROUGH the dark woods, her red hair flying wildly behind her as she kicked off her heels. Her heart pounded and her skin crawled with dread. This was it. The moment she’d feared since she left the convent.
“Leave me alone!” Her voice carried through the tall trees, yet she knew they would never heed her plea.
The men that chased her knew what she was—and so did the Wolf that accompanied their band of hunters.
It could smell it on her, practically sniffed her out of a crowd of townsfolk at the holiday parade.
With a deep breath, Allyn leaped into the night sky, her green eyes scanning the woods for any trace of her boy
friend. They would not catch her.
Not again.
This time, she would fight.
“Capture her!” the sheriff shouted, his bow and arrow pointed at her. She expected an arrow to pierce her flesh at any moment. Then, they’d drag her to the capitol, where she’d surely be executed.
Cold wind assaulted her, making her cheeks numb. Cold didn’t matter. Only the speed of her legs.
Where was Byron? He was supposed to be waiting for her on the side road. He couldn’t have abandoned her. Not after his promise to protect her.
As she began to descend back to the floor of the woods, she caught a glimpse of Byron’s car on the road. She picked up speed, heat filling her limbs as she summoned power from her belly. She resisted the urge to release the energy that built within and focused on reaching her destination. The men would never catch up to her.
But, the Wolf. She could hear it racing behind her, its breaths seeming to come from right beside her.
Instead of taking a chance, Allyn closed her eyes and turned to face the hunters. A blast of power shot from the palms of her hands. Like a black web, it grew from the center of the air and outstretched to the trees. She gritted her teeth and pulled more energy from within. As she blew cool air from between her pursed lips, the black web became white like ice and blocked the path between Allyn and the hunters.
She couldn’t risk them getting through, so she twisted her fist and immobilized them all. Ice shot up their legs and fused them to the ground.
The Wolf—fangs bared—growled. Its silver glare chilling her to her core.
She spun around and ran. The Wolf, white as snow and larger than any normal wolf she’d ever seen in all of her years living in the woods was more terrifying than she’d imagined. While she still had the chance she raced for her life to Byron’s car.
