Torrent of Tears (Scourge Survivor Series Book 3)

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Torrent of Tears (Scourge Survivor Series Book 3) Page 26

by JL Madore


  If not for the spirit ceremony, Galan would never bring Lia back to the Highborne Village. It was, however, their duty to see Tham’s arrangements met. It was also precisely the type of event the Scourge would exploit to recapture his sister.

  It was the first time he had allowed Lia to leave the sanctuary of Haven since her rescue eight months earlier. Given any choice, she would be there still.

  CHAPTER ONE

  The two Elves standing before me were dead—the first I understood, the second I did not.

  Verily, I knew Cameron was dead, Aust's father had been killed when Scourge raiders attacked the village. But dressed in suede pants and a fine ivory tunic with his quiver stocked and slung across his back, the male looked as vital and solid standing at the crux of the rivers as he had my entire sixty years of life.

  Shifting my gaze over our intimate group, I tried to discern if anyone else saw him. Aust? Elora? At the very least my brother should, Galan being the Sentinel of Souls, after all. Though eight of us had been granted the ability to see Tham's spirit during his Veil ceremony, Tham seemed to be the only spirit the others saw.

  “Lia, it is your turn, little one.” Galan gestured to the water’s edge.

  Oh, yes. I stepped down the slight slope to the water’s edge, the green leaf-pod I had spent the morning crafting, cupped in my open palms. After choosing the brightest Mallow leaves and the most succulently scented flowers in the rainforest, I wove them as tightly as I could, to honor our fallen brother.

  May Tham's spirit sail on e’ermore.

  As the little leaf-shaped vessel bobbed in the shallows, I recited the wish penned on the parchment sealed in its belly. “My wish for you, Thamior, is that your heart remains as full of life and love in the next phase of your Ambar Lenn as it has in this one. Blessings and abundance, brother-mine.”

  “Blessings and abundance,” the group repeated.

  I nudged my offering, sending it past the lazy ripples lapping at the bank, to where the hard pull of the current snatched it up and swirled it down river to join the others.

  Brushing my damp fingers against the fabric of my gown, I straightened and stepped to stand before Tham, the male who—whether born of my blood or not, deceased or not—was my brother in every sense of the word.

  He stood before me as all males in our Elven race: handsome, proud, lithe, lean, flaxen haired and fair of skin. But Tham held a mischievous light in his Highborne-blue eyes that no other ever had and I doubted ever would again.

  He was the purest joy, the truest love.

  Stepping close, I whispered his soul name for our last goodbye. “Amin mela lle, Quynn. You were taken from us far too soon.”

  He winked and raised his fingers to my cheek. I could not feel his ghostly touch, though I knew the warmth he exuded. “Amin mela lle, my sweet Ryanne. I love you as well.”

  Tham’s speaking of my soul name was, as always, the most intimate sensation. It kindled warmth beneath my skin and brought my most private, guarded emotions to awakening. It was a joining of souls. A merging of love. And now, with him having lived a mere century and one, he would never speak it again.

  Galan handed me a handkerchief and when the others had launched their wishes, we followed the sounds of celebration and headed up to the ceremonial ruin site above the village.

  The musicians filled the velvet night sky, their ballads gliding from the glittering crowd to the stars far above the ancient platform. Though I had been absent from the village since the raid, things remained exactly as I remembered: the silk covered altar-stone buried beneath and endless bounty of refreshments, the torch-lighted mantel stones encircling the plateau clearing, their burning light raining down an ethereal glow from twenty feet above, and the couples linked together, dressed to perfection, swirling and smiling.

  The females’ gowns and hair flowed behind them as males floated them around the dance floor in tailored slacks and velvet embroidered jackets.

  The lonely longing of my absence evaporated in an instant.

  I was home.

  I inhaled the rainforest breeze and the scents of orchid and hyacinth greeted me. Tropical heat crept deep into my body and warmed my chilled soul. So much had happened since Galan, Aust, and Tham ventured off on their Ambar Lenn.

  So much would never be the same.

  Life’s Journey. I sighed at the painful naivety of life before their quest began. In eight months Galan had mated, was expecting twins and now served the God of gods. Aust had lost his father, Cameron, been stricken by the gods at Dragon’s Peak and exiled from the village. Tham was dead.

  No matter how many times I repeated those words to myself, I failed to believe them. One morning, he set off on a jog through the Haven forests and the next moment, he was taken by Rheagan’s minions into a lost city of Fae and beaten to death for no reason other than to prove it could be done.

  “Why aren’t you dancing, sweetheart?” Cowboy asked, gesturing to the life celebration in progress before us.

  My escort for the evening—Talon bodyguard in truth—the tall, southern Were shifter, tilted the brim of his ebony hat toward the crowd. “You’re pretty as a prize pony and a dozen young studs have checked you out. Go on. Have some fun.”

  As much as I appreciated his kindness, the truth was, I could never ask a male to dance. The honor was of the male’s choosing and, thus far, not one male had been so inclined.

  I twirled the end of the new ribbon woven into my silver locks and forced a smile. “It seems my adventures outside the village have left me a bit of a pariah, and those who would ask me as family are elsewhere.”

  Iadon had taken Nyssa and Ella to his cousin's cottage for a visit. Aust and his mother Elora were spending some time at Cameron’s pyre site. And after promising Galan I wouldn’t leave Cowboy’s side, he took Jade for a forest tryst.

  Cowboy frowned, the torchlight catching the gold reflection of his inner animal in his eyes. “It’s a damn shame. If I wasn’t on duty, I’d take you out on the floor for a spin.”

  I reached onto my tip-toes and kissed his bristled cheek. “Fash not, I tire anyway. It has been quite a day already.”

  “Hold that thought, sweetheart. I think you’re up.”

  As a group of my peers made their way around the inside edge of the circle of stones, Cowboy retreated two steps in what I assumed to be an effort to appear less assuming.

  Impossible. All Weres possessed an unavoidable draw. Strength. Power. When coupled with his southern drawl, warrior’s build, and dressed in black leather, battle gear, the Wolf drew the attention of all—male and female alike.

  Durian led the trio striding toward us, dapper as ever in a long navy coat embellished with silver leaves sewn along the lapel. I smoothed my hands down my dress and ordered my quickened heart to settle. Many flowers had lost their petals while I daydreamed about that male in the south meadow.

  He glanced over his shoulder at Kaya and Ava, as if he too was nervous. They proceeded until the three of them stood directly before me. “Lia,” he said, “I wish . . . we wish to ask after you. Are you well?”

  He smelled just as I remembered and the wings of butterflies fluttered against my insides. “I am well, though saddened that my return was brought about by Tham’s spirit ceremony. I shall miss him. He was a remarkable male.”

  Durian nodded. His hair had grown to midway down his chest while I was away, but even still, it failed to hide how his ears flushed an adorable pink right to their gentle tips. “We heard . . . well your Eda told the council . . .”

  As he hesitated and I braced myself. I could only imagine what my Eda told the council. My sire had detested me since my birthing. In fact, today he had yet to acknowledge my existence at all. Even Galan and Jade had ranked a loathing sneer from across the party. I seemed unworthy of even that.

  Kaya crossed her arms over her now ample breasts. She had filled out considerably since I was home. “Is it true that you died and passed Behind the Veil?”

&nb
sp; I adjusted the velvet mourning choker banding my throat. “Uh no, well, . . . in a fashion.”

  “And yet you return? Were you turned away from the After?” The cool mockery in Kaya's tone caught me by surprise. We had been friends. Or I thought we had.

  “I did not die . . . exactly. Galan and Jade rescued me from my state and brought me back.”

  Kaya’s gaze narrowed as she scowled. “How fortunate for you. Dozens of loved ones died during your capture—Ava’s Eda, Durian’s brother—and yet your brother and his magic-wielding mate brought you back to live on?”

  Ava stepped forward and flicked my hair. “To think, we admired your silver hair. So different. So beautiful. Now we know it symbolizes you being the abhorrent offspring of a maniacal Queen and heir to Rheagan’s throne.”

  Durian frowned. “Would you have us bow to you, Lia? Now that you have destroyed our lives and moved on to rule a realm which hates our very race?”

  The party fell silent. My eyes shot around the ruin site, skipping over the glimmering perfection I had seen before, bouncing off the accusing glares of strangers I had known and loved my entire life. “I am not the heir to the throne.”

  Kaya yanked my fist forward and pried my fingers open. Hidden in the palm of my hand, gleamed a blue-diamond big enough that the entire gathering could see it from any distance. “You wear the Queen’s ring.”

  About to vomit. I was definitely about to vomit. Tears blurred my vision as I struggled for what to say. “I . . . the ring cannot be removed. If it could I would—”

  Cowboy’s snarl ripped through the night, the long rumbling timbre of his wolf vibrating in my chest. When his muscled frame stalked beside me, my three friends stumbled back. In a blur, he pulled me tight to his side and Flashed me to Tham’s little cottage in the centre of the village.

  When he released me, I breathed through the sensations of magical travel: the flutter of my stomach, the airy lightness in my head and the squeezing of breath from my lungs.

  They hated me. They blamed me. They thought that I . . .

  Frantically I turned and tried to . . . what? Where could I go? My home? I had no home. I had to . . . oh, gods. Gasping shallow breaths, I yanked the mourning band from my neck. “I cannot breathe.”

  “S’all good, sweetheart. That was bullshit up there. A few deep breaths and you’ll be right as rain.”

  I shook my head, the dead silence of the celebration above, echoing in my head. “Nothing is right. I ruined their lives. I ruined Tham’s party. I ruined my own family. I killed my mother just by being born. Did you know that?”

  Cowboy grabbed at my flailing arms but I lurched free and headed for the river.

  With trembling hands, I tugged the ribbons from my hair and threw them to the ground. Guilt and loathing crushed my lungs. I wished I was strong like Jade and Lexi. I wished I had a place. A purpose. But I’d seen the truth in the eyes of my friends. I was nothing.

  I waded into the water, deeper and deeper still, dragging my legs against the resistance of the water until the current swept my skirt and soaked my bodice. My tears fell in earnest and the day overtook me. One more step and I could collapse into the inviting warmth of the river mouth and be lost. I would let myself sink. The weight of my grief would pull me down. Down until my boots touched the pebbled bottom. Down until the world disappeared and the hurt washed away.

  My lungs would burn with the urgent need to draw breath, but I would hold fast until oblivion claimed me.

  “Durian is wrong, sweeting.” The Elven voice had me swiping the back of my hand across my eyes. Cameron stood on the river bank opposite me, his wide, callused palms open. “The village attack was the act of a madman and his quest to rule the realm. You are no more responsible for your ancestry than my Aust for being born with his gift to speak to animals. Naught of this is your doing. I do not blame you.”

  I pounded my fist against the unrelenting pressure that had compressed my chest for months. “They came for me. You and the others were killed because of me.”

  “And you carry that with you always.”

  I rubbed my forehead. It felt like someone had cleaved my skull in two and my body failed to recognize that I was dying. In the throbbing haze of one of my worst headaches yet, I glanced around. “Oh, gods, what do I do?”

  “Your best, neelan. That is all you can do.”

  Lost in the impossibility of my life, the current tugged on my sopping gown, inviting me into the depths. I looked to the riverbank. It was empty. Had Cameron truly been there or was my mind so far off that insanity conjured him?

  Strong arms wrapped around my shoulders as Cowboy hugged me from behind. He rested his chin on top of my head and exhaled. “You're scaring the stuffing out of me right now, sweetheart, just so you know. Yelling at the riverbank is one thing, but I don’t like you pondering a midnight swim. And FYI, Weres can’t swim. We sink. So, if it’s all the same to you, how’s about we get our feet back on dry ground?”

  He turned my shoulders and led me back toward the bank.

  “Apologies. I am so embarrassed . . . weary . . . and . . .”

  “Lost.” He stopped us in the shallows and set my hair behind my shoulder. “You’re a little lost right now, Lia, but other than your pretty dress getting waterlogged, there’s no damage done. Just you and me taking an unexpected stroll in the river.”

  I looked down at the two of us standing drenched in our clothes and would have laughed had I not been crying. “They hate me, Cowboy. Everyone I ever loved despises me.”

  A shadow fell over Cowboy’s gaze as if he felt the ache of my pain himself. “That’s their loss.”

  “And not true, Lia.” Standing on the bank with his mother, Aust offered me a hand out of the water. His ice-blue cat’s eyes held so much compassion, I wondered how anyone could miss the gentle soul he was. “We heard what Durian and the others said to you. If anyone knows the cut of Highborne judgment, it is me, sweeting. The attack was not your fault. Anyone with an ounce of Elven logic should see that.”

  Elora wrapped her arm around my shoulder. “It seems we have all outgrown this village. Let us leave this narrow-minded aristocracy behind once and for always.”

  JL Madore is a romance novelist of many genres: fantasy, paranormal, timeslip historical, and contemporary. She loves to twist Alpha heroes and kick-ass heroines into chaotic, hilarious, magical situations and make them really work for their Happily Ever After.

  JL lives outside Toronto, Canada with her love of over 30 years and a menagerie of family, friends and animals.

  If you’d like to receive release dates, author news, and series giveaways, subscribe here: JLMadore Mailing list

  If you’d like to know more about my other series’ drop by my website at: www.JLMadore.ca

 

 

 


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