THOR: Sci-Fi Romance (Far Hope Series Book 1)

by E. A. James

  She giggled in surprise, pastries tumbling over her gut as she wiggled in Adrik’s loose grip. “Adrik!”

  “Pardon us,” Adrik announced to the crowd, gawking at him. “The prophetess has a lot of traveling to do today, so I’m afraid we must take our leave.” He took a small step forward and cleared his throat.

  The bystanders shuffled back.

  He took another step, a bit bigger.

  The bystanders shuffled back more.

  Leonie bit her lip to tame her grin as she glanced at Adrik. “My hero.”

  He shrugged, eyes glinting with pride and amusement.

  She glanced over at all the pastries before grabbing one that seemed relatively intact—and without any of her clothes’ fibers on it—and offered it to him. “Want a bite?”

  He cocked an eyebrow at the sugary bread held in front of his mouth. Then he leaned forward and took a bite, his lips grazing the edge of her pointer finger.

  She giggled again, cradling the dessert. Her stomach released a high-pitched whine, encouraging her to take a large bite, herself. As she did so—raspberries and sugar coated her mouth—she looked back at the dispersing bystanders.

  There, down the street walked the cloaked figure. It seemed to follow her and Adrik. The figure—like a lanky phantom—weaved around people while keeping his or her face fixed at Leonie. The movement struck Leonie as unnatural.

  Leonie’s heart thudded quicker. “Uh, Adrik?” she whispered, moving to hide part of her face behind his shoulder.

  “Yes?” he said around his bite of food. Then he swallowed.

  “We’re being followed.”

  “Of course we are. You’re the prophetess. Can I get another bite?”

  “No,” she hissed, “I mean someone is stalking us right now. Look.”

  Adrik glanced over his shoulder. He stiffened, steps faltering a little as he faced forward again. His lips pressed together in a thin frown.

  “Never seen anyone that tall before.” He swerved, picking up his pace and pushed past several people to get off the main road and back onto the smaller road, behind the shops. “Is he still following us?”

  She craned her neck to peer over his arm.

  The dusty road was bare, save for the few bystanders who peered around buildings to watch her leave. She released a long breath, body relaxing.

  And then the dark figure soared above the bystanders blocking their view, his feet thudding against the dirt road a few meters away from them. As he rose, he quickened his pace toward Leonie and Adrik.

  Leonie nearly choked on her fear. “Adrik,” she wheezed.

  He glanced over his shoulder again and cursed. He quickened his pace even more and his grip on her tightened.

  The cloaked figure moved faster. His bony knees pushed against the dark cloth that covered him. His strides were long—longer than they should be.

  “Adrik, I don’t know what that thing is,” she whispered to him. “It’s getting closer.”

  Adrik ran.

  Leonie gasped, the pastries bouncing out of her lap and crashing to the ground. She gripped Adrik’s arm and gawked at the figure, increasing its speed, as well—so fast that it's blurred, angled frame aimed like an arrow at Adrik’s back.

  “He’s a demon or a Fader or something,” she rambled, quivering and clawing into Adrik’s arm. “He’s going to catch us. We have to do something.”

  She reached for the pack on her back, but it was pinned between herself and Adrik’s arms. She tugged on the top of it in a desperate attempt to free some kind of weapon.

  Adrik turned, sprinting past the rows of homes.

  The figure dashed after them, its cloak flapping in the air with each swift step.

  Leonie squirmed and pulled harder at her pack. She had not needed her dagger or bow in several days—forgotten in its storage—and the moment she needed them the most—she growled, “Adrik!”

  Adrik jumped over a ditch, the ground beneath his feet feeling harder as sharper tremors shot up his limbs and rumbled into her.

  The figure was meters away from them.

  Splashing water graced Leonie’s ears and she faced forward again.

  A river. Massive in width and flat in appearance, it was almost difficult to tell just how rapidly the water rushed by. It was only because of a small twig floating on the surface that Leonie saw the true intensity of the river’s might.

  “Adrik!” she said warningly, but it was too late.

  Adrik’s feet landed on the edge of the river—on a sharp edge of firm dirt and dying grass—before he pushed off the ground and dove into the water, Leonie clung to his back.

  EPILOGUE

  The Gargan protector—with the prophetess in his arms—had the gall to jump into the river, the dark waters concealing him and the young woman completely from sight.

  Growling, he stopped at the river’s edge, his cloak rustling against the gentle breeze that followed the river onward. He stared at the rapid water for several moments in search of the prophetess, but she never broke the river’s surface.

  He released a long sigh. His wings trembled and ached within their tight confinement, and he stretched his back and long limbs in hopes of alleviating the discomfort. The gears in his legs whirled loudly until he relaxed his posture yet again.

  The prophetess must’ve been carried farther down the river—much farther, though this was assuming that the man of rock wasn’t anchoring her.

  He cracked his jaw. If she died because of such idiocy…

  Shaking his head, he walked alongside the river—one long stride after another—in search of the one who could alter fate.

  TANAK

  STAR FALL SERIES BOOK #1

  CHAPTER ONE

  Margila Fallosi headed across the Village Common toward her home when her best friend Amara Dunroy rushed to meet her. “Margila! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

  “Well, you found me. Now, what’s the big fuss?”

  “Have you finished the decorations for the Harvest Festival? You’re in charge of the decorating committee, and you haven’t told me one thing to do. If we don’t finish in time, the village won’t be ready. We can’t let that happen.”

  “If you looked on your way across the Common, you would have seen the decorations all finished. I put up the last garlands not an hour ago. Would you like to go back and check if they meet your standards?”

  Amara seized her arm. “Oh, Margila, I’m so relieved. I should have known you wouldn’t leave such a big job to the last minute, and I’m sure the decorations look marvelous. I have a feeling this is going to be the best Festival ever!”

  “It won’t be the best ever if we don’t do an equally grand job on the food for the feast and the flowers for the procession. We better get back to my house. Mother will be waiting for us, and there’s so much to do before the full moon.”

  The two young women fell in side by side on their way back to Margila’s house. “What’s your Mother preparing for the feast?”

  “Just...everything. Roast pig and roast venison and roast vegetables and pies and cakes and cookies and crumbles and everything in between. Salads by the score, cordial syrup for drinks, candied apples and sugar-dried chips—you name it, she’s preparing it. You know how my Mother is. When she sets out to make food, she doesn’t spare. She’s been a whirlwind for three weeks, and I’ve been pressed into service. That’s why I volunteered to do the decorations, so I could get out of the house for a little while. What’s your mother preparing?”

  “I don’t think she’s doing a pig this year, but she’s doing everything else. I only wish....”

  The two friends came to the end of the Common and turned off into a side lane. Clusters of small cottages lined the lane set off with flowerbeds. They passed through the garden gate toward Margila’s front door when Margila laid a hand on Amara’s arm. “Sh! Do you hear that?”

  The two girls stopped in their tracks and listened. Amara frowned. “Who’s that talking in you
r house? I recognize your father’s voice, but I hear someone’s I don’t recognize. Who is that?”

  Margila grabbed her friend’s hand and towed her around the corner of the house. She crouched low under the kitchen window and held her finger to her lips. They peeked over the windowsill at three men standing in Margila’s kitchen. Margila didn’t see her mother anywhere.

  Thomas Fallosi murmured in low tones to the other two. Margila knew Amara’s father, Councilor Dunroy, as well as she knew her own father. The third man wore a crisp, dark-blue uniform with gold braid looping from the shiny epaulets on his shoulders. Medals and ribbons hung on his lapel, and he stood very tall and erect. “The Axis Joint Command is doing everything it can. I’m mustering the fleet, but it takes time. We can’t move any faster than we already are. You must understand that.”

  “Of course we understand,” replied Thomas. “We’re desperate. That’s all. We’ve been at war with these beasts for over a hundred years, and the only solution we’ve found to stop them devastating our crops every autumn is to sacrifice a virgin maiden on that mountain over there. We go through the same quandary every year. Should we keep up the sacrifice, or fall back on outright hostilities?”

  “I understand your dilemma, but surely hostilities can’t be worse than throwing away innocent lives. You only have a few more months to wait, maybe less. Then my fleet will enter orbit around Phomentina and wipe out the Raveniss menace forever. You won’t have to worry about sacrificing your daughters anymore.”

  “I only wish I could believe you, Major Bloodkist, but we’ve heard the same promise from the Axis before. We’ve been so close to defeating the Raveniss, but the promised support from the Axis never materialized. You have to forgive us for not trusting you now.”

  “That won’t happen this time. The fleet is on its way here as we speak. We know you can’t defeat the Raveniss on your own, and the Axis remains committed to ridding the galaxy of this pest once and for all. Just hold out a little longer. We won’t let you down this time.”

  “Where will we go? What do you have in mind for us after it’s all over?”

  “We have the destination all lined up. It’s the perfect solution to your problem, but you must trust us. Put off the sacrifice, just a little while.”

  Amara whispered to Margila, “What’s he talking about?”

  Margila silenced her with a wave of her hand and bent closer to the window to listen.

  Thomas Fallosi shook his head. “I’m sorry, but we’ve learned through hard experience that the loss of one person means very little compared to dragons without number swooping in on us, destroying our crops, burning the village, and killing hundreds of people, not to mention leaving the rest of us to starve over the winter.”

  Major Bloodkist drew himself up. “In that case, I’ll send the fleet as fast as I can. We’ll stop this terrible business and get all your people to safety.”

  He strode out of the house, but Margila didn’t see where he went. She never saw him in or around the village again.

  Her father turned to Councilor Dunroy. “I only wish we could believe him. I would give anything to skip the lottery, even for one year.”

  “I feel the same way. We both have young daughters, and the more times they enter the lottery, the more likely their chances of being chosen for the sacrifice. I don’t understand why the Axis is sending all their fleet here to destroy the Raveniss. Why don’t they just evacuate us and leave the Raveniss behind? That would solve everyone’s problem with a lot less effort and expense.”

  “Why does the Axis do anything? I can almost believe Major Bloodkist enjoys fighting so much he would go out of his way to start an all-out war between the Axis and the Raveniss. They don’t really care about us. They just want to show off their firepower.”

  Councilor Dunroy smiled. “I wish I could share your humor, Thomas, but with the lottery coming up tomorrow, I just can’t seem to enjoy anything. I won’t enjoy anything until I know Amara is safe. Then I can relax for another year until next year’s Festival.”

  Thomas laid a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I know. We better go now, before anyone starts to suspect.”

  The two men wandered out of the room, and Margila lost track of them. She and Amara crouched under the window. “What was that all about?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t know the Axis sent their representative here. I’ve never seen him before.”

  “What was all that about evacuating and finding a perfect destination for us? It sounds serious.”

  Margila stood up. “I don’t know, but I have more important things to think about right now. I’m sure my father can handle anything the Axis Joint Command throws at us. If they’re coming up with a way to defeat the Raveniss so we don’t have to keep conducting these wretched lotteries, I’ll be happy to go along with it. Now, come on. I have to find my mother and get to work.”

  Amara hung back. “I better go home, too. My mother will be wondering where I am. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She gave Margila a kiss on the cheek and hurried away.

  Margila went around the front of her house where she met Marcus Drury at the door. “Hey, what are you doing here?”

  Marcus swept his arm around her waist. He hustled her around the opposite corner of the house. Three large spruce trees sheltered that side of the house from the cold winds. They hung over the eaves and made a shelter out of sight of the lane and the Common.

  Marcus pushed Margila against the wall and kissed her. He pressed his chest against her breasts and crushed her with his body. His hands roamed around her waist and down her hips to her thighs. “I had to see you. I couldn’t stand it anymore.”

  Margila sighed into his mouth and closed her eyes. “I’ve been busy.”

  “You’re not too busy to sneak off with me, are you? Just for a little while? We’ll hide in my father’s barn.”

  He rubbed his hips against her, and his flesh swelled between his legs. Margila’s body quivered with excitement, and a pleasant warmth spread between her legs. Oh, how lovely it would be to sneak off right now. She would roll with Marcus in the warm hay in his father’s hayloft. His hands would explore under her skirt to hidden places underneath.

  He hitched up her dress around her thighs, and he caressed her bare skin with long strokes of his fingertips. Margila mewed, and she panted through her nostrils. His insistent mouth pushed her lips apart to let his tongue dart inside.

  Their tongues danced in a rising swirl of intoxicating passion. Marcus found the moist center between her legs and circled it with his fingers. Margila writhed against Marcus, longing to satisfy her craving with those fingers. Marcus always knew the best way to drive her wild.

  “Come on, lovely. Come away with me. I just need you for a little while. I’ve been out of my mind. Come on now. You’re so wet. You know you want to come. You want me, don’t you? You want me to touch you and make you moan?” He pressed his bulging crotch against her leg. “You make me so hot. I need you now.”

  With a great effort, Margila tore her mouth away from his, but he nibbled down her neck to her bodice. He mouthed along her collarbone even as his hands traced up to her breasts lying taut and bound under her bodice. He found the delicate softness of her nipple and pressed it with his thumb. “Oh, Marcus!”

  He breathed into her ear and ground his crotch into her swollen mons. “Say my name, darling. Say it loud. Scream for me the way you know I like it. I’m going to take you tonight. I’m going to make you mine.”

  She gasped for breath. “I can’t! I want to, but I can’t. Mother needs me. I can’t just leave her without help.”

  He gave her one last pump of his hard prick. He kissed her until his passion subsided. “After the festival, then. Promise me you’ll come to me as soon as the Festival is over.”

  “You know I will. You know I want to more than anything.”

  He pulled his hand out from under her skirt and it fell to her ankles. He smelled his fingers. “I know you’re a game vi
xen. That’s what I love about you. Well, you better get in there and I’ll get back to work. Don’t forget your promise. I’ll be waiting for you.”

  “I won’t forget. I want you as much as you want me.”

  He checked both directions to make sure no one was coming. Then he ducked out from under the branches and disappeared.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Amara burst into the kitchen and found Margila up to her elbows in flour. Piles of pastry lay rolled out on the work table. “Come on, Margila. We’ll be late.”

  Margila dusted off her hands. “I’m coming. Just let me wash my hands first.”

  She washed the flour off her hands and untied her apron. She hung it on a hook by the door, and she and Amara walked out into the lane. Dozens of people flocked from the village houses toward the Common. The two girls had to wait at the gate for a crowd to pass before they found room to follow.