by Jen Crane
Betrayal Foretold
Descended of Dragons, Book 3
Jen Crane
Carpe Noctem Publishing LLC
Contents
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Copyright Warning
About the Author
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Epilogue
Thank You for Reading!
About the Author
Dedication
To E.S., L.B., H.L
Third book. Three of you. Too much love to count.
Acknowledgments
It’s true being an author is sometimes a solitary business, but with exceptional colleagues, friends, and family, it’s not lonely.
To the readers: Oh, the readers of this series have been the best! Thank you so much for supporting me and these books, for following Stella’s journey, for your kind notes and generous reviews. Thank you for recommending this series to your friends. A book isn’t much good without someone to read it, after all.
To the critique partners and beta readers who made this book better, Kathleen Groger, Holly Goslin, and Brooke Ledford: thank you from the bottom of my heart.
To the ever-communicative, generous, and kind Goddess of All Things Indie and Tech, Brinda Berry: I could not have done this without you. Thank you so much for your gentle encouragement, your dexterous texting fingers, and your generous assistance with book trailers and Bookbub and the like.
Thanks to the seasoned professionals who helped with the process: the lovely people at Deranged Doctor Design, Nancy Cassidy with The Red Pen Coach editing, and all of the talented people involved in Diamond State Romance Authors.
Lastly, I always hesitate to say too much about my patient, supportive, and generally wonderful husband. What we have is special, and ours alone. But I can’t make acknowledgements without mentioning him. He’s just too important. Thank you, Babe, for the pride I see in your eyes, for managing our sideshow when I’m meeting a deadline, and for your rock-solid support.
Copyright Warning
The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is a crime punishable by law. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded to or downloaded from file sharing sites, or distributed in any other way via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000 (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/).
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are fictitious or have been used fictitiously, and are not to be construed as real in any way. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Published by Carpe Noctem Publishing LLC
Edited by Nancy Cassidy of The Red Pen Coach
Cover Design by Deranged Doctor Designs
Betrayal Foretold (Descended of Dragons, Book 3)
Copyright © 2016 Jen Crane
All rights reserved.
First electronic publication: May 2016
First print publication: May 2016
Digital ISBN: 978-0-9965756-4-5
Print ISBN: 978-0-9965756-5-2
About the Author
Though she grew up on a working cattle ranch, Jen Crane has been into fantasy and sci-fi since seeing a bootleg tape of The Princess Bride.
She has a master's degree and solid work histories in government and non-profit administration. But just in the nick of time, Jen pronounced life too real for nonfiction. She now creates endearing characters and alternate realms filled with adventure, magic, and love.
Jen is happily living out her dream in The South with her husband and three children, striking that delicate balance between inspiration and frustration.
Book 2 in Jen's new fantasy romance series, Descended of Dragons, was selected by iTunes/iBooks as "Our Pick" in fantasy/sci-fi.
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Prologue
Far from Radix, from Thayer’s capitol city of Caliph, from any concentration of people, Brandubh paced the great room of his castle home. Over the years he’d taken care to furnish the residence with sophisticated art, beautifully inlaid tables and chests, and finely upholstered furniture. Hand-woven rugs scattered the castle’s interior. But no amount of refinery could ever diminish the sharp, reverberant clomp, clomp, clomping of angry boot steps as they struck the stone-hewn floor.
The loss of his precious dragons was a mortal blow. Brandubh had eyes everywhere, and his spies had informed him almost the moment it happened. It was no coincidence people descended of rats were so prolific; it took a lot of them to form a network, and they were notoriously short-lived. Stryde and Eiven were lost forever. Bay had fled. And the one creature with the potential to help him finally achieve his goals was alive and well…and alone. He might’ve lost his dragons, for now, but he still had his spies.
And he still had one other very critical ace up his sleeve. Precisely when he would play the pivotal card, he wasn’t yet sure. But his lips slid into that fox-like grin each time it occurred to him how brilliant, how deliciously useful this particular mole had been.
Chapter 1
Time spent alone is precious.
It’s cleansing, it’s rejuvenating, it’s fortifying—until it’s not. I had soul-searched and introspected until my deficiencies clung to me like a throng of specters.
Over the last few days, the people of Thayer had learned dragons were not, in fact, wiped out hundreds of years before, and word had spread like wildfire that I was a member of the notoriously villainous species. My world turned upside down in a flash, and the capricious tide of public sentiment turned against me.
I sat, licking deep emotional wounds in the primitive cabin deserted only days before by the three Drakontos dragons—and my relatives—my Grandmother Bay, my Uncle Eiven, and my cousin Stryde. An official Radix committee and the Thayerian authorities conducted searches and quizzed my known associates to learn both my whereabouts and the extent of their knowledge.
My friends had proved faithful and generous in the days since I’d fled our magical grad school, Radix Citadel for Supernatural Learning, or The Root, as most commonly referred to it. But my friends couldn’t be expected to spend every waking moment at my cabin hideaway. Ewan, Boone and Timbra, and sometimes Layla visited when there was no risk of being followed, but it hadn’t been frequently enough to stave off my loneliness.
My arms hung at my sides a
s I stood in the center of the cabin, too restless to sit, to read, to think. The absence of sound was so prevalent that every tiny noise seemed to roar in contrast: the scratch of a branch against the roof, the drag-tick of an old clock, the whistle of wind through the dense forest.
“Hello,” a deep voice called from outside. “Stell?”
Ewan. Thank God. I raced through the cabin door and found him standing just beyond the front porch. Ewan Bristol rarely deviated from wearing black, and when he did, it wasn’t far. A dark blue V-neck lent contrast to his skin, which tanned easily and well.
I crashed into him, holding him close, and delighted in the solidness of him. Ewan always smelled of the forest, of juniper or fir, and I inhaled his scent while I had the opportunity; before he could leave again. I closed my eyes and absorbed the comfort of his arms, of his warm body.
It wasn’t just that I was so lonely I’d begun talking to the furniture. I missed the sexy squint his eyes took on, the uneven slide of his lips when he thought I was funny or clever. I missed the way his mouth went slack when my top slipped to reveal too much cleavage. I missed his level-headed advice and unyielding support. I missed the way people stopped and listened when he spoke. I missed Ewan.
“Hi,” I said and beamed up at him. His pleasure mirrored mine. It was there for me to see, completely unguarded in the depths of his dark eyes.
He kissed me high on the cheekbone before finding my mouth. Think me arrogant if you like, but I’ve always considered Ewan and me the best kissers ever to lay lips on one another. My mouth fit perfectly against his, his full lips complementing my smaller ones. With a groan, he pulled me so tightly into him I gasped for breath. He had missed me, too.
My Radix-issued personal interactive assistant, which I’d named Pia, chirped from the cabin just as I felt a buzz through the fabric of Ewan’s shorts.
“Stella,” Pia called, “you have received a message from Dean Livia Miles.” I shot a questioning glance at Ewan, who shrugged and fumbled in his pocket for his own device.
When I didn’t answer right away, Pia repeated the notification. “Stella, you have received a message from Dean Livia Miles.”
I hurried inside to see what Dean Miles could possibly be sending. The last I’d heard, she was on a vicious rampage to condemn and disgrace me.
When I emerged from the cabin, still scrolling to access the message, Ewan’s posture was bunched, coiled. A toy soldier wound too tight.
I dropped my arms to my sides, still clutching Pia in one hand. “Ewan? Ewan, what’s wrong?”
When he looked up, his dark eyes were black holes within his blood-drained face.
Someone died. What else could produce such a severe response?
“She…” Ewan cleared his throat. “She sent the entire school your journal entry.”
“What? Who did? What are you talking about? What journal entry?”
His face held such pity. “Dean Miles. She sent the entire campus a student journal entry you wrote detailing your dragon, your family…everything.” Ewan whispered the last. He walked to the fire pit and slid onto a log seat.
Chapter 2
“Show me, Pia,” I said. Tension gripped me and my stomach tried to relocate through my esophagus.
I read the formal message on Pia’s screen.
Thursday, July 17
Livia Miles, Dean
Department of Craft and Ritual
Radix Citadel for Supernatural Learning
To Whom It May Concern:
I deliver this message as a function of the committee appointed by Vice Chancellor Alma Edgecliffe to investigate the events of Friday, July 11.
On the date in question, at an off-campus gathering, Ms. Stella Stonewall, a Radix Primo, took the form of a dragon in response to a threat made by yet another dragon. This second dragon was, our committee has concluded and Ms. Stonewall has admitted, Ms. Stonewall’s first cousin, Stryde Drakontos.
Considering the tragic and violent history associated with those of dragon descent, the investigative committee has concluded Ms. Stonewall, like all dragons thought extinct until this occurrence, is an immediate threat to Radix, its students, and society as a whole.
Consequently, the committee has followed protocol and expelled Ms. Stonewall from our institution. We have also filed formal charges with Thayer’s Defense Department, and have notified the Office of the Prime Minister. The committee has been informed that a criminal investigation is ongoing for Ms. Stonewall and any of her relatives and associates.
We feel it is essential the general public understand the threat this suspect poses, and have attached the following excerpt, taken directly from Ms. Stonewall’s Radix-appointed student journal and dated Saturday, June 28 of the present year. This admission was a primary factor in our decision to expel Ms. Stonewall and notify the proper authorities.
Radix has made counseling services available to any student who witnessed the tragic events of July 11, or who may now feel anxiety about sharing a world with dragons. Interested students may contact the Office of Student Services.
Protegens mundus per cognitionus,
Livia Miles
Dean, Department of Craft and Ritual
[Attachment]
“I was born of a dragon mother and an omni father—a rare species capable of changing into any animal form.”
“…Having an alternate form is normal. Not so normal? Having two alternate forms…or more. So far, when faced with immediate physical danger, I’ve changed into both a massive red wolf and a fearsome dragon with scales of auburn.”
“…I have three living relatives: a grandma, an uncle, and a male cousin. They’re my mother’s people, the Drakontos, and are believed to be the last of the dragons.”
“…They betrayed me to Brandubh…”
“…I nearly died when Brandubh tried to enslave me… in order to repopulate the dragon lines.”
“Now I fear his return every day…”
“…I am still a badass wolf/dragon girl that can fight like a boss.”
Chapter 3
I squeezed my eyes shut in regret, in humiliation, in fury. Stupid, stupid, I thought. Stupid to write that down. Stupid not to know more about my student journal and Radix-issued P.I.A. and realize they were accessible by the administration. Stupid damned Livia-damned-Miles.
I found a seat next to Ewan at the fire pit, where less than a month before I had grown to love my newfound relatives Bay and Eiven. For a girl who grew up only ever knowing a mother as family, finding a grandmother and an uncle was an answer to my prayers. Discovering them seemed like a lifetime ago.
“Well, that’s some creative editing,” I said, because focusing on anything else in Dean Miles’s indulgent diatribe would lead to my complete meltdown.
Ewan widened his eyes in exasperation. “This is serious, Stella.”
“I know it’s freaking serious,” I snapped. “I read the letter. What do you want me to say?”
His expression fell from concerned to wounded, and I regretted my snap immediately. “I’m sorry. It’s not you I’m angry with, you were just within reach.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said and ran a palm across my shoulder blades. He rubbed big, comforting circles on my back, but there was no way I could relax. “How did she get your journal, anyway?”
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly as I considered the question. “Probably found it on the Radix master file or something. Once I learned my entries weren’t private, I went back and deleted this specific one. I guess I was too late.”
As I spoke, Pia was still firmly encased in my hand, and when she alerted me to another message, my grip nearly cracked her screen.
“Stella, you have received a message from Radix Office of Administration,” she announced. Though not equipped with actual vocal chords, she delivered the announcement with gravity.
“Read it aloud,” I ordered.
“Ms. Stonewall,
We must inform you that due
to recent findings by a committee appointed to investigate the events of an off-campus gathering on 7/11, you are hereby expelled from Radix Citadel for Supernatural Learning. This expulsion is effective immediately. You may retrieve your belongings from your residence at Sabre Hall under the supervision of campus authorities within the next four hours. Please be advised the committee has filed a report with the proper authorities, who will be contacting you as part of their ongoing investigation. We consider—”
“Stop, Pia. I got it.” I closed my eyes on an angry breath. “Yeah right. I’m gonna hop right over to The Root so they can take me away in handcuffs.”
Ewan twisted his mouth. “Actually, I’ve never seen a pair of handcuffs. Criminals here in Thayer are usually disarmed by an incapacitation spell.”
“Seriously, Ewan? Now I’m a criminal?”
“I didn’t mean… You know what I meant.” He couldn’t stop his lips from bending into a smile, despite the seriousness of the situation.
I grunted, unamused. “I assume they’re going to come looking for me now, if they haven’t started already.”
“You’re probably right.” He pulled me closer, which didn’t improve my jagged outlook, but did make it blurry around the edges. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s a good thing this place’s wards are off the charts. I’m safe here, at least.”
“Mmm,” Ewan agreed and ran big hands across my back again.
