Taken by Storm V3

by Cyndi Friberg

  She nodded almost imperceptibly. He drained himself, drawing all his energy into the center of his being. He gathered the Storm, pulling it to him, building its pressure and intensity. No one knew where the portal led when it was opened on the metaphysical plane because no one had ever survived.

  “I love you, Charlotte. I will always love you,” he said, and Summoned the Storm.

  The world exploded and Charlotte screamed. Flung back to physical reality like a leaf driven before a hurricane, she clutched her head with both hands and rocked back and forth, moaning. Searing pain blinded her, deafened her and robbed her of thought.

  Pain.

  “Tal?” she whispered, her voice dry and choked.

  Nothing.

  Forcing herself to move, she pushed her hair out of her eyes and gingerly lifted her head. Someone had cleared the council chambers. Only Vee, Trey and Mage Gerr remained.

  Joon’s body lay in a crumpled heap. Tal sprawled limp and still across her lap, his hair tangled all around them.

  No one spoke.

  No one moved.

  “Tal,” she tried again, her heartbeat adding to the pounding in her head. “Sweetheart, we’re back. You did it.”

  Struggling to her knees, she knelt beside him on the cold stone floor. She brushed the hair off his face and anguish crashed in upon her. No breath stirred against her skin.

  She shook him, rubbed his cheeks briskly. No response. She sobbed as fear twisted through her.

  This couldn’t be happening!

  She sealed her mouth over his, preparing to breathe into his lungs, but her heightened senses revealed a hollow shell, devoid of life and Mystic energy. “No!” The one word tore from her with all the torment in her soul. “My love, don’t leave me. Please, don’t leave me. I can’t do this alone. I can’t—not again.”

  Burying her face in his lifeless hair, she wept. For just a moment, her lungs rejected breath and her heart refused to beat. Without the other half of her soul, there was no point in continuing the journey.

  Vee touched her shoulder gently but she twisted away.

  Her spirit rebelled.

  Anger spread through her like wildfire.

  You are the phoenix. Her heart pounded. You are made stronger by the fire. She dragged a deep cleansing breath into her lungs and focused entirely on solutions.

  We will fight this thing together! Tal’s words echoed back to her.

  She dragged him into her lap, cradling him as he had often cradled her.

  “I love you, Tal Aune.” She spoke into his ear. “Feel how much I love you, find the feeling—come back to me.”

  Feathering kisses across his motionless features, she rubbed her hand over his chest. “This is wrong. It was not meant to end like this. We were meant to…”

  Tears choked her, stealing her words. She opened her mind, transmitting her devotion and her tenderness. Communicating her need, her desire.

  Clutching him to her heart, she channeled her love for her soul’s mate through the catalyst and poured it into his body.

  “Come back to me,” she whispered.

  Nothing happened.

  Intensifying the power of the catalyst, she made the signal stronger, more passionate.

  Tears burned her throat and doubt hovered on the edge of her consciousness, waiting, mocking.

  “I am the High Queen of Ontariese. I will not live without my true mate. I command you, come back to me!”

  The Sah Keeta Narri. The true bonding.

  They hadn’t performed the ceremony but she knew the chant. He’d taught her the chant.

  “Tera meta forlay fontou

  Teri forlay meta fortou.” She formed the words urgently.

  Nothing happened.

  She tried again, more forcefully.

  His body shuddered. Charlotte cried out.

  Had she imagined it?

  “Tal, come on. You can do it. Listen to the sound of my voice. Know how much I love you.”

  She resumed the chant, easing her hold on him so she could see his face. His chest moved and she spoke faster, running the syllables together until it sounded like one long word.

  His hand slowly rose and found her hair, but he didn’t caress her. His fingers tangled there and dragged her face down to his.

  “Tera meta forlay fontou

  Teri forlay meta fortou.”

  His lips moved against hers as he spoke the words. Tingles darted throughout her body.

  “My love,” she whimpered.

  He said the words again.

  Their mouths came together, urgent and hungry. His hair swirled around her and Charlotte felt as if her heart would leap from her chest. He was back. He was really back!

  He dragged her to her knees, refusing to relinquish her mouth long enough to speak.

  Molding her to his body, he summoned a vortex, transporting them to his bedchamber. Charlotte heard Trey’s happy shout before the conduit closed in on itself.

  Tal devoured her mouth, grinding his shaft against her belly. Responding immediately, her core tightened and pulsed in tune to the rhythm of his heart.

  She laughed as they went on kissing.

  Oh boy, was he back!

  His hands moved urgently over her and she gently pushed him away. “Slow down, love. We have the rest of our lives.”

  “I cannot,” he panted. “I burn as I have never burned.”

  The catalyst. She had intensified her emotions with the catalyst.

  Without pretense or shame, she stripped and lay down on the bed. In one fluid motion, he shifted out of his clothing and knelt between her thighs.

  “Say the chant together with me.”

  With each word, he entered her a fraction farther, filling her, stretching her until as they spoke the last word they were one.

  Complete.

  Charlotte sobbed, amazed by the beauty of their joining. He framed her face with his hands, gazing silently into her eyes. Pulling back slowly, he filled her again and again. Gently at first then faster, more aggressively.

  Her eyes started to drift shut and he cried, “No. It will weaken the bond.”

  So she watched his face as he took her and saw herself reflected in his eyes. Unity. They rode the storm together, the joining strengthened with each shiver, each sigh.

  Charlotte circled his waist with her legs, arching to meet his thrusts, taking him as he took her. Sensations passed back and forth between them, building in intensity with each exchange. She grasped his arms, her nails digging into his flesh.

  Tension coiled with brutal concentration. Her entire body shook, vibrating with an energy she didn’t quite understand.

  “I’m frightened,” she gasped.

  “Trust me.”

  She surrendered herself to the tempest, reveling in the storm. Energy flowed around and through them in sizzling currents. She cried out and he soothed her. She found release and he roared.

  The storm coalesced, solidified with peals of thunder that shook the bed. Charlotte looked at Tal, only at Tal as heated wind whipped their naked flesh.

  Time paused. A brief moment of peaceful silence then lightning struck all around them, creating a visible circle of energy. They clung to each other, trembling and glowing, flushed from head to toe.

  “What was that?” she asked, still panting. “Did you Summon the Storm again?”

  He shook his head, his hair clinging to their damp skin. “This is different. I’m afraid I lost control.”

  “Is that a bad thing?” She chuckled. “I don’t know that I want lightning striking every time we make love but that was pretty spectacular.”

  He pulled her to her knees and slowly extended his hand toward the circle of energy. His hand jerked then eased completely into the flow. “Go ahead. It won’t hurt you.”

  Charlotte ran her fingers along his arm until their hands joined within the shimmering circle. Light and color danced through her mind. She gasped. She swayed into Tal’s arms.

  “Do you s
ee them?” His voice was hushed, almost reverent.

  Chubby cheeks, identical faces, wide, smoky-violet eyes. “They’re beautiful.”

  He chuckled and pulled her hand to his lips. “Of course they are. They’re ours.”

  Charlotte’s abdomen tingled and heat swept through her in a slow, intense wave. “Ours? That’s how you lost control.”

  His gaze searched her features, love glowing in his smoke-colored eyes. “I did not intentionally break my promise, but it is broken all the same. Are you upset?”

  “Surprised, not upset.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him tenderly. “I’m thrilled, my love. This was one amazing wedding day.”

  Epilogue

  Charlotte’s presentation to the TSC resumed three days later. She glanced at the spot where she had last seen Joon’s body and felt remarkably at ease. It was over. It was finally over. Vee and Mage Garr had dispersed Joon’s energy and incinerated his remains, leaving nothing to chance.

  She sat across from Prefect Aune, but his sons now sat at her side, Tal on her right, Trey on her left.

  “I’m not sure how to begin.” She folded her hands on top of the table, carefully choosing her words. “But I think the incident three days ago proves how imperative it is that we move forward with my plan.”

  “Incident?” Roe Aune echoed, his eyes round with disbelief. “That lunatic tried to assassinate me and you two nearly died.”

  “My point exactly. We’ve lost too many to this war, Prefect Aune. It has to end and we must be the ones to take the first step.”

  His eyes narrowed, his gaze boring into hers. “If you extend a hand toward the Joons, they will likely lop it off. Did what happen here teach you nothing?”

  “We have a lot of work to do before we ever approach the Reformation Sect,” she said calmly.

  “We do, do we?” His voice raised a notch. “And what work would that be?”

  “It’s time, Prefect Aune. The Clarifications have been allowed to accumulate and molder for generations. It’s time to rework them, to create a realistic standard by which the Traditionalist Sect can operate.”

  He laughed, pushing back far enough from the table that he could cross his legs. “Even if the council had a mind to undertake such a task, how do you propose we do so?”

  “I’ve already begun.” Sliding a packet of papers across the table, she explained, “This is a list of every Clarification that directly contradicts another. The next list indicates Clarifications that are so old they have little or no relevance. I had just begun a list highlighting those that unfairly benefit one group of people over another. With the Symposium’s help to cross-reference the actual statutes, it’s not as daunting as it sounds.”

  No one spoke for a long time. Charlotte glanced at the other council members but they seemed to be waiting for Prefect Aune to react.

  “What do you think about all this?” Roe Aune asked Trey.

  “There are a lot of Clarifications that seem foolish in this day and age,” he said.

  “Including the one insisting the High Queen choose a life mate from the heirs of the Great Houses?” Roe’s gaze moved back to Charlotte. “That’s what this is all about, isn’t it? You’re in love with the wrong son.”

  She couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m very much in love with the wrong son, but this is about much more than my mar—er, life mate. Laws must be logical. ‘Because that’s the way it’s always been’ isn’t good enough anymore. Ontariese has come too far and we’ve lost too much. It’s time for change.”

  “And what say you, Master Aune?” Roe asked his younger son.

  “Like you, Father, I honor the traditions. I believe they give us strength and have defined our character.” He paused before adding, “But they also caused this war.”

  “That is blasphemy!” Prefect Aune flared. “The House of Joon started this war. Frim dar—”

  “We’re not here to relive the past. We’re here to plan the future,” Tal said firmly.

  Charlotte shivered. She’d been thinking those same words when Tal crashed into the mountain behind her cabin.

  Tal looked at her and smiled. “I think what she proposes is wise and overdue. It’s a compromise, a balance. We shouldn’t be encumbered by our past. We should be empowered by it. Our world has changed. We have changed. We can’t build a future if we’re focused solely on the past.”

  Roe Aune shook his head. “I do believe I’ve been ambushed.” He made a bland gesture to his council members. “Does anyone have objections to updating and refining the Clarifications to more accurately represent our current society?”

  “Only so long as the Code of Ethics is not violated,” Flex Lemar, the oldest member of the council, said.

  “Councilman Lemar,” Charlotte responded, “I find the Ontarian Code of Ethics one of the most moving documents I’ve ever read. As long as I am High Queen of Ontariese, the Code of Ethics will remain unchanged. In fact it is my hope—no, my mission—to refocus our societies on those very principles.”

  “Any other comments or objections?” Prefect Aune asked.

  “Oh, I’m sure there will be plenty once we actually start doing this, but I agree that it needs to be done,” another councilman said.

  When no one else spoke up, Prefect Aune turned back to Charlotte. “Looks like you won this round, Your Majesty.”

  She curled Tal’s hair around her hand and beamed. “I won a lot more than that.”

  Read on for a preview of

  Cyndi Friberg’s

  Beyond Ontariese 2

  OPERATION HYDRA

  Trey dar Aune’s routine rescue mission to Earth becomes incredibly complicated when he discovers Dr. Hydran is genetically engineering captive Ontarians to maximize their Mystic abilities.

  Krysta despises Dr. Hydran and anyone associated with him. Still, her desire flares right along with her temper when she encounters Trey, Hydran’s enigmatic new customer. How can this gorgeous stranger mean her harm when everything within her cries out for his touch and the comfort of his embrace? Her prophetic dreams promise freedom from Dr. Hydran’s tyranny but first she must determine if Trey is ally or enemy.

  Chapter One

  The Center

  Rocky Mountain Demilitarized Zone

  May 2205

  “Doctor Hydran wants to see you.”

  Krysta ground her teeth at the orderly’s monotone voice. Why did so many of her days start with those six words?

  “And I care because?” She stood and brushed off the seat of her khaki-colored uniform bottom. More to annoy the dour-faced orderly than for any need for tidiness, Krysta removed the elastic band from her wrist and wrapped it around her thick hair.

  “Now,” the orderly growled.

  Mission accomplished. Krysta smiled.

  An artificial breeze fluttered the top of her uniform and she glanced longingly at the rugged mountain peaks visible through the transparent dome. Though the courtyard provided all the sights, sounds and smells of the mountain valley in which The Center sat, none of the occupants were ever allowed outside.

  Out of habit, Krysta projected her thoughts, searching for her twin sister Belle. Her sister responded with a pulse of soothing calm and Krysta chuckled. Why would Belle presume she would need to relax?

  A narrow red beam scanned one of the orderly’s eyes as they approached and the door leading to the observation rooms between wards A and B slid open. She motioned Krysta inside with a stiff nod.

  “So how’s the family?” Krysta asked, stepping beyond the stoic orderly.

  They marched past the first three rooms and Krysta’s stomach began to knot. “I’m not going in there.”

  Their destination became inevitable when the orderly passed the last observation room. The high-security treatment center lay at the end of the hall. A supervisor’s station was situated between two identical “torture” chambers, allowing two procedures to be observed at once. Large two-way mirrors hid the supervisors but none
of The Center’s occupants were fooled.

  “I am not going in there,” Krysta said again.

  The orderly heaved an impatient sigh and wrapped her meaty paw around Krysta’s arm. “It ain’t what you think. He wants a demonstration.”

  Krysta jerked her arm out of the woman’s grasp. “Then use one of the other rooms. I’m not going in there.”

  “It’s already set up. Just do what you’re told for once in your life.”

  A wide red beam scanned the orderly from head to toe before the door released. She shoved Krysta into the treatment chamber before Krysta could find a way to stop her. Fighting the bile rising in the back of her throat, Krysta felt her fingernails bite into her palms.

  It’s just a room.

  And he’s just a sadistic pig!

  She glared at the two-way mirror, noting the crack she’d put there two months before. “Can’t bleed enough out of your research grants to replace the mirror?”

  “You know the rules, Krysta. Attend the patient.” Dr. Hydran’s disembodied voice blared out of speakers hidden somewhere in the ceiling.

  The entire room was white, sterile, but Krysta felt filthy. Her ankle boots tapped noisily against the gleaming tile floor. She hesitated, listening to the faint buzz of the energy barrier, bracing herself for Dr. Hydran’s most recent surprise. His games varied greatly but she knew this one well. Determine if the patient is ill or not. Determine the cause of their illness if any. Heal the illness if necessary.

  The barrier fell. Krysta gasped, immediately tromping down her emotions in lieu of helping the child. The little girl couldn’t be more than three. Her tiny body shook with fever and a blue tinge colored her lips. Sooty lashes fluttered then opened and she gasped again. Swirling violet eyes, identical to her own, stared up at her through a feverish haze.

  Time for fury later—she must heal the child! Extending her hands, fingers splayed, she identified the cause of the fever and set about eradicating the microorganism. Each cleansing pulse became more intense until the little girl vibrated with Krysta’s psychic energy.