Magic Awakened: A Paranormal Romance Boxed Set

by K.N. Lee

  Zana pushed against his arm and hip, turning him onto his back. She brushed the soil from his brow and used her sleeve to wipe the blood from his busted lip. She lowered an ear to his face, waiting to hear his breath.

  When none came, she shook his shoulders. Her fingers dug into his muscles. “Please come back.”

  Memories of their short time together bounced in her head. How safe he made her feel and adored. Beyond the physical, she truly cared for Shadow, remembering his pain when he spoke to the community that didn’t want him back. Like her, he was an outcast, but he didn’t care. She, on the other hand, craved to be embraced by the townsfolk. Had she been a fool to spend years trying to gain acceptance instead of living her life, just had Shadow had done? Bitterness rose like bile to the back of her mouth, and she had no reason to swallow it.

  Her life had gone from bad to worse to unbearable. Klurt was dead, and now history had just repeated itself. Instead of helping, her visions made her the grim reaper.

  She slumped her head on his stomach, inhaling his musky scent. The one she’d drowned in last night. Her mind refused to believe Shadow was gone. “Don’t go.”

  Losing Klurt had destroyed her, but with Shadow gone, tears fell as rain did in a storm.

  She lifted herself and beat a fist into his chest. “You shithead.”

  A groan spilled from Shadow’s mouth.

  It took a second for the groan to sink in. He wasn’t dead yet. With a closed hand, she struck him a few more times. Povian had once said when someone was unconscious, thumping their heart helped. Or was that after drowning? She couldn’t remember but kept striking Shadow.

  “A-Are you trying to kill me?” His croaky voice stopped her. He peeled open his eyes.

  Her emotions were thin pieces of paper. “You’re alive!” She threw herself onto him. Her hands sailed around his neck and lifted his head off the ground.

  “C-can’t breathe.”

  She released him. “I thought I lost you, and I told you about my dream, and…”

  He pushed himself up to a sitting position, bones cracking. “Sons of bitches trolls. They’re a menace.”

  “The troll crushed you. How did you survive?”

  Shadow shrugged, then winced. “Wasn’t meant to die today, I guess.”

  A rumble of voices escalated. She spun in the direction of the sound. Povian approached with other goblins, fanning out in all directions.

  “The troll ran for the hill. Are you all right, son?” He offered Shadow a hand, heaving him to his feet. Shadow helped Zana up.

  “I’ll be all right,” Shadow responded.

  “Well, you two better head home. I’m setting up watch goblins in case the troll comes back with reinforcements.”

  “Of course.” Zana stroked Shadow’s arm; his muscles tensed.

  “Once the casket is burned,” Povian continued. “We’ll release the ashes over the river as is customary. You don’t need to worry.”

  “Thank you,” Shadow said, and broke into a slow, staggered walk. He nudged her arm. “Sorry to disappoint you. Looks like your vision didn’t come true.”

  Her deep chuckle released the pent-up pain. Shadow was still alive, and maybe she was able to change fate after all. ‘Amazing’ didn’t come close to covering how that felt. It was as if someone had told her she’d been wrong and her parents were still alive.

  She slapped Shadow in the arm. “Listen to me next time.”

  He smiled with a devilish grin. Damn if it didn’t leave her quivering in the best possible way. Despite her mind telling her to ignore the heat burning between her thighs. She needed to remember Shadow was only visiting Pryvale.

  She pushed those worries aside. What was wrong with having a week of fun while he was in town? When was the last time she let herself have a vacation? Or be with someone who stared at her as if she were chocolate cake? Besides, the day wasn’t over, and she intended to spend every second with Shadow.

  Zana’s eyes fluttered open to the morning light streaming into her bedroom. Her body thrummed for Shadow. What a dream. No. Wait. She had spent the night in Shadow’s embrace, both naked and fucking for hours. Unlike the first time, he was gentle that time, prolonging the sensation she wanted back. Because that was how shitty days were dealt with and forgotten. And she was officially in lust with Shadow. It was the second night of the Lunar Festival, and the time of the mating dance. Would Shadow participate? Smiling to herself, Zana rolled over, her hand instinctively reaching out for the warm touch of his skin. Instead, she found the other side of her bed cold.

  She sat up as unease swirled in the pit of her gut. “Shadow?”

  When no response came, she climbed out of bed, bundled in the sheet, and headed to the bathroom. Empty. So were the kitchen and living room. “Where are you?”

  At the entrance, she found it only partially secured as if someone had locked the door before pulling it closed from the outside. “Shadow left?” A sinking sensation sliced through her.

  She paced in a circle, her fingers tightening the fabric draped around her torso. “No. He just didn’t want to wake me up.” Then why did her mind scream otherwise? Shadow admitted to wanting to return to the realm because Pryvale was just nice. And that made her just nice, too. Not long-term or dating material, or… Shit.

  Of course she shouldn’t care. She’d told herself he planned to leave; hightail it back to the kingdom. She was a distraction. A place to stay. “You knew this.”

  She folded her arms across her waist. “Shut up.” When exactly had Shadow left, anyway? What if he’d done so while she slept? Could he have died somewhere like in her vision? Was she fooling herself, believing she’d somehow overcome fate?

  “Oh fuck!” She bolted through the main room and skidded into her bedroom, ripping off the sheet. Get dressed and find Shadow. “Please, Goddess. Please let him still be alive.”

  Chapter 10

  Shadow knocked on the door studded with metal spikes. Carver had to have been lying. Sivath abhorred corruption, and the only reason his name was tainted was because goblins didn’t like him living away from the village.

  The monstrous mansion stood alone in the forest. Three stories, cobblestone walls, and double-hung windows. But the dust piling up on the marble doorway was not like Sivath. Neither were the cracks appearing above the entrance. Sure, small problems to most, but Sivath obsessed over tidiness.

  Shadow banged again. Nothing. Stepping off the veranda, he crossed the yard and peered through the window. Impossible to see beyond the drawn curtains. Sivath rarely left home, due to an allergic reaction to the sun. That meant he stayed indoors during the day. And it was early afternoon now.

  The descending sun also reminded him that the second day of the festival was that night—a time of the mating dance. After Klurt’s death, the troll attack, and Carver’s threat, leaving Zana alone wasn’t a possibility. She might act tough, but she carried an innocence inside her, and he wouldn’t allow anyone to break that. He’d be quick with Sivath, then head off, convinced she wouldn’t miss the event for anything.

  Rounding the building, Shadow sprinted toward the backyard. He expected to find fairy lights strung over hard chairs and tables, but discovered cleared land. Had Sivath relocated?

  A faint chirp of voices came from inside the enormous house. Shadow hurried closer, staying low.

  Peeking through a gap in the curtain, Shadow spotted two figures inside an empty room. Behind them stood an ornate fireplace, the mantelpiece carved into a sunset. He and Sivath had spent cold nights in front of its fire.

  Shadow scanned the room and tensed. Carver strolled across the bare room, laughing at hell knows what. In front of him was another goblin with golden, cropped hair. He waved his hands about as he spoke. Shadow didn’t remember that guy from the other night, but if he was linked to Carver, he had to be a dick. Plain and simple.

  Carver had mentioned Sivath. So where were the goblin chief’s furnishings? Why was his house run down?


  The light-haired goblin turned. His hooked nose lent him a pirate look. The goblin moved straight toward Shadow, limping on his left leg. Shadow jerked away, his back plastered to the wall.

  “Den, listen to me,” Carver’s yelling pierced walls. Must be the other guy.

  Shadow held his breath, listening for any sounds. Staying there wouldn’t help. He needed a vantage point to hear their discussion. Then he remembered the external basement entry.

  He inched beneath the window and toward the cellar doors, but found them locked. “Shit.” It wasn’t as if he could smash them in without making too much noise. Think. Sivath had always kept a spare key hidden outside. Sivath was beyond forgetful, and, half the time, he locked himself out of the house.

  Shadow hurried toward the corner of house, where a cluttering of pebbles adorned the edging. Kneeling down, he dug through the stones, pushing them aside until he hit soil. There was nothing there, so he worked his way along the rear of the building until he approached the wooden door. Except, Sivath would never hide it that close to the door. Too obvious.

  A creak groaned from inside. Shadow’s heart slammed into his ribcage. He scanned the area; it was barren of shrubs, and the trees lay too far to reach in time. So he sprinted across the yard and threw himself around the corner of the home. Lowering himself to a hunched position, his back sat against the cold wall.

  A horrible churning started in the pit of his gut. It grew by the second. While he had zero idea what was going on, Shadow was convinced he’d break bones until he discovered how Sivath and Carver were involved in Klurt’s death.

  When no sounds came, he crawled back out and kept digging along the pool of pebbles near the house’s foundation. The keys better be there, or he was tearing down the door. The tips of his fingers stung from the prodding. Each time a stone clung against another, he cringed.

  He edged onward when something sharp stabbed his thumb. Beneath the pebble was a silver key. “Goddess, thank you.” He dashed to the cellar door.

  A metallic groan screeched—hinges from inside the house.

  He jabbed the key into the hole, but kept missing. Glancing up showed no one had emerged yet. “Son of a bitch,” he mumbled, and, finally, jammed the key correctly. He pried the trap door upward and rushed down into darkness. Within seconds, he’d closed himself in the cellar. A harrowing smell crashed into him. He stood on the steps, listening, holding back a coughing fit as his chest heaved for fresh air.

  Silence.

  He climbed down into the basement. At the bottom of the stairs, the pungent odor intensified. A fly buzzed in his face. “What the hell is that stink?”

  Shadow found the light cord. The same one he’d tugged dozens of times as a child when he went to retrieve another jar of pickled gherkins. A fluorescent beam illuminated the empty cellar. Uneasiness pushed against him.

  To his left, the room lay empty, and the door leading up to the kitchen was shut. On the opposite wall, shelving was crammed with rotting boxes.

  Shadow lowered his gaze, and a chill crept over him.

  Flies swarmed around a large tubular item wrapped in plastic.

  Dread curled into his chest, squeezing his heart. He hesitated at first.

  Move, his mind screamed. He inched closer and retrieved his blade from his belt. He sliced through the material. The foul smell had him gagging.

  Shadow shuddered. He stared down at the grayish flesh that was once his mentor, friend, and father figure. Sivath.

  Flesh was torn across his throat, maggots wriggling in the open wound. Sivath lay dead, his open eyes hollow of life and his body way past the rigor mortis stage.

  Sivath had been dead for maybe weeks. “What the fuck is going on?”

  Anger crashed through Shadow fast, burning him up from the inside out. It consumed him, and he was already rushing up the steps to the kitchen, his muscles taut and ready to fight. He tried the handle. Locked.

  Holding on to the wooden railing, he kicked the door. Nothing. Another round of kicks and it burst open. He didn’t give a shit if the noise drew Carver’s attention. That was the plan. Then he’d break his fist into Carver’s face.

  Shadow stepped into a dim kitchen with nothing but a sink and counter beneath a covered window. No one came to investigate his intrusion.

  Outside the kitchen, wisps of light from gaps in the curtains sliced the darkened hallway.

  He stomped toward the rear room with the fireplace, only to find it empty.

  Rushing back through the house, his boots thumped the wooden flooring as he checked each room. No goblins or furniture. The next level was the same, while the top story looked lived in. Mattresses, blankets, and boxes of clothes.

  “Where the hell are you?”

  A deep ache settled in Shadow’s head. The bastard must have left.

  He stepped closer to the window and pushed aside the dusty, brown drapes. Below, he spotted two figures entering the woodlands. Carver and Den.

  He gritted his teeth as blood rushed to his head. No words formed. Only the fury unleashing from within. Today, this shit ends.

  Shadow stormed back downstairs and outside. He broke into a sprint, determined to catch the asswipes and make them beg for their lives.

  Shadow wasn't sure how long he’d been running through the forest, but he hadn’t found Carver or Den. Yet the image of Sivath refused to unstick from his mind. A cut across his throat told Shadow everything he needed to know. Sivath had been betrayed.

  In retrospect, he should have made the connection earlier. Sivath not attending Klurt’s ceremony. But Carver was there, using Sivath’s name like some kind of scare tactic. In hindsight, he recalled Zana’s words about the guy who’d killed Klurt; cropped, golden hair, large guy with a limp. The same dickhead with Carver.

  Anger propelled Shadow to move faster, racing toward the night’s festival in case that was Carver’s destination. Zana was probably there with no protection.

  Every time Shadow pictured Carver, he smacked his head with the flat part of his hand. “Idiot. Should have killed him when you had the chance.”

  The aroma of barbecued meat hung in the air. Shadow barged through a row of bushes and shoved a low-hanging branch out of his way. He stepped out of the woods. The clearing from the previous night drowned in the silvery glow of the moonlight, and had been transformed into an outdoor party. A bonfire roared at one end. An ocean of red lanterns were piled up on the lawn farther away—ready for each new goblin who found their mate that night to release one into their air as a token to the goddess. Families bought spiraled potatoes on a stick from a cluster of food stalls. Couples cooked marshmallows in the fire. Everyone else enjoyed the picnic. Voices and laughter brimmed with cheer.

  Shadow pressed through the throng, ignoring the glares, the foul words coming his way. Fuck them all. He’d lost two goblins, and he had to find Zana first, then Carver.

  Neither Klurt’s nor Sivath’s deaths would go unpunished. Pryvale was a town built on a foundation of corruption and fear. This was what Sivath and Klurt had tried to fix, to offer goblins a line of help and support. They were the pioneers of changing goblins’ lives. But, clearly, not everyone agreed.

  He scanned the tops of heads, standing taller than most.

  Someone grabbed his arm.

  He spun around. “What?”

  “Geez. Someone is high-strung.” Zana stepped back. Behind her gaze, something softened. Was she going to cry? The concern in her eyes added to the heaviness on his shoulders.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, reaching out for her hand, but she pulled away.

  “You left my place without a word, and—”

  He sighed. “I had lots to do, but I’m here now.”

  “Screw that. You vanish and expect me to forget that you freaked me out all day?” She ran a hand down her face. “I thought you were dead somewhere.”

  A couple of goblins walked past, gawking at them. Yep. This conversation would be on everyone’s lips in about five second
s.

  “I can look after myself. Told you that. But I think it’s time to get you home.” He glanced around him. No matter what, Shadow was delivering on his promise to make Carver bleed.

  “Are you even listening to me?” she asked.

  His attention swung to Zana as she chewed her lower lip.

  “Look,” he said. “Tonight, shit is going down, and I don’t want you in the firing range.”

  “Why? What—?”

  A summoning gong rang across the meadow. “Hell! The mating dance.”

  Goblins moved like a tidal wave, crashing against him, ushering them both forward.

  Zana had already been swept into the current. She glanced over her shoulder at him, her mouth moving, but he couldn’t make out the words.

  He reached out his hand to her. Fighting the horde was useless. Shoes stomped his boots, elbows knocked him in the ribs, hot exhales blew against his neck.

  “Hell!” Worse than a cattle stampede.

  Another bell rang, and he recognized the enormous empty land ahead. Six-foot poles staked in the ground, alongside blazing torches, which surrounded the arena. Several females were getting tied to the posts, facing the center, giggling—the mating dance. Single women waited for eligible men to select them. The goblins engaged in a mock fight, then they claimed a girl. After that, the couples would search the woodlands for an elusive lunar flower that only grew one night a year. It was said that couples who found the flower were blessed for a happy life, and it was a message from the goddess that they were meant to be together.

  Shadow had dreamed of getting his chance, too. One of the reasons he’d agreed to come home. To see if the goddess would favor him with a mate. A most auspicious night for all goblins. His insides were shredded and knotted so tight, he could barely breathe. No time for this. Get Zana to safety first.

  But when he found her, she was rushed into the center by a cluster of females. His stomach sank. Once someone entered the circle, they had to continue with the ceremony. To pull out was a slap in the face to the goddess, and goblins had been thrown out of town for less. If a male selected the girl, she wasn’t permitted to walk away. Not until the couple hunted for the lunar flower to see if they were, indeed, meant to be together. No other male was allowed near her until then.