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Also by Rachael Slate
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CHINESE ZODIAC ROMANCE SERIES:
BOOK 1: TRANCING THE TIGER
BOOK 2: REMATCH
BOOK 3: BY THE HORNS
BOOK 4: MATCH ME LATER
BOOK 5: REINING HIM IN
BOOK 6: MATCHING DRAGONS
BOOK 7: NEVER MATCH A DRAGON
BOOK 8: IN WOLF’S CLOTHING
HALCYON ROMANCE BOOKS:
HALCYON ROMANCE SERIES:
BOOK 1: MOON BORNE
BOOK 2: EARTH BORNE
BOOK 3: WATER BORNE
LORDS OF THESSALY SERIES: (series now complete!)
BOOK 1: WICKED LORD OF THESSALY
BOOK 2: BRUTISH LORD OF THESSALY
BOOK 3: MASTERFUL LORD OF THESSALY
BOOK 4: UNTAMED LORD OF THESSALY
BOOK 5: LOST LADY OF THESSALY
LORDS OF KRETE SERIES:
BOOK 1: WATER’S MARK (A ZODIAC SHIFTERS PARANORMAL ROMANCE: CANCER)
BOOK 2: EARTH’S MARK
BOOK 3: AIR’S MARK
BOOK 4: FIRE’S MARK
BOOK 5: AETHER’S MARK
CURSED IMMORTALS SERIES:
BOOK 1: SHADOW BORNE
Preview of Air’s Mark
Want more Halcyon Romance? Read on for an exclusive sneak peek at the first chapter from Book 3 in the Lords of Krete series, Air’s Mark, coming September 2017!
She’s firmly rooted
Airla and her nymph sisters, the Hamadryades, are cursed. Bound to the trees from which they were birthed, they’re slowly dying in a frozen wasteland. When the last leaf from Airla’s branches freezes, so will she. Yet beyond her reach lies the one male who can set her free. Only, he’s the one who cursed her in the first place. And she’d rather turn to ice than trust him again.
His mark lies on the wind
Lord Lycus of Krete follows no one’s path. While his brothers are off searching for an army to free their centaur race, he wanders into the frigid northern barren lands, where no one exists. Or so he thinks. The only thing not frozen in this wasteland is the seductive Airla’s fiery wrath. Until one touch changes everything and a love denied just might blaze hot enough to melt even her glacial defenses.
Caught in a whirlwind of Fate
Lycus vows to set the Hamadryades free once more. Except, their trees are frozen and moving them might shatter not only their grove, but their entire race. Together, they’ll have to skirt the edges of danger and thwart a god, risking their lives and their hearts to change the direction of their destinies.
CHAPTER ONE
Krete
Year 1 of the reign of King Minos
An icy wind filled Lycus’s lungs, cooling the smoke burning within his throat from the fires. So many fires. He fisted his hands and frowned at the thin ridges of frost forming along his knuckles. The power of Air that Zeus had granted him not moments ago flooded his body. But this was not the gentle breeze of a summer’s day.
Nay, this was the frigid, unforgiving howl of an Arctic night. Precisely what he required to avenge his family. His people. His lands.
Her.
Oh, gods. Airla. What if the Minotaurs…
Around him, his bloodsworne brothers and sister marveled at their new gifts. The slash still cut across his palm from the vows they’d made each other. He should trust in them and beseech their aid, but what if they refused? Their village had been burned, their families murdered while they’d hidden, and now, the Minotaurs continued to ravage through their lands. On to the next village, and the next. Only by the grace of Zeus had they managed to escape to Mount Ida, where it was safe. For the moment.
Nay, ’twas better to go alone and not risk them, too.
He gave his head a swift shake to clear it, then dashed through the cavern.
“Where are you going? ’Tis not safe yet,” Rhoetus’s booming voice bellowed behind him, but there was no time to waste.
Lycus squeezed his eyes and vanished into the wind, swooping and swirling like a new calf just born. He smacked into a rock wall, shook out his jitters, and refocused. He had to master this new gift, now.
Before it was too late once again.
Determined, he raced to the meadow. Here, sunlight still broke through the tree tops, though dense clouds of smoke snuffed out the horizon. The sight of the cornelian cherry tree grove unharmed brought relief to his chest, easing the strain enough for him to seize in a deep breath and transform into his centaur shape.
“Airla!” He pressed a hand against the bark of a central tree. She belonged to a race of nymphs bound to the trees that birthed them—the Hamadryades. In the distance, a shrieking wail echoed, reminding him of the urgency. He had to save her, to save them all.
“Lycus.” A spritely young maiden stepped out from behind the tree. Terror and anguish misted her evergreen eyes. “Thank the gods you’re safe, but what are you doing here?” She squeezed her arms tightly around his waist, and he fought not to shed any tears.
He ran a trembling hand across and down her long, seafoam green locks. “Nay, lass. None of us are safe anymore. You can’t hide here. They will find you and burn your trees to the ground.” Minotaurs were good at burning things. Homes. Lives. Dreams.
“What choice do we have?” She whimpered and buried her cheek against his chest.
He’d felt helpless listening to those beasts slaughter his family, but this impotence destroyed him. Her slender form was so frail in his arms. As a nymph, she wouldn’t be able to lift a hand in her defense. He refused to watch her nymph race destroyed like his sister Cyane’s had been. Another screech carried on the wind, easy for his ears now to detect. Time was running out. The Minotaurs were going to burn this whole damn island to the ground.
But bloody hell if he let them have his mate.
Even if it meant he would never hold her again.
Airla trembled against Lycus’s reassuring hold. She might be only a young nymph, but even she was wise enough to know that this was defeat.
Lycus was barely older than she was. He couldn’t save her people, no more than she could. The best thing for them to do would be to retreat inside their trees, away from the Minotaurs’ savage grasp.
Though that meant they’d never walk in this realm again.
Resolve poured through her. Lycus was her best friend, her confidante. Someday, when they were both older, she’d hoped he might be more.
The truth was bitter in her throat, but she stepped back from his embrace, pressing one hand to his youthful cheek. His pale eyes were the hue of an endless expanse of ice, not purely white but with touches of gray and blue. His lashes, long hair, and horse hide were of the same cool coloring. Yet there was nothing frigid in the way he gazed at her, longing and desperation in his stare.
“This is farewell, my sweet friend. Please don’t cry for me. May we meet again.” She seized another pace back, toward her tree’s glowing bark. It would open only twice in her existence, once for her birth and once for her death. However, she would continue to exist in the place from whence she’d been formed.
Whatever that would mean.
Her fingers slipped from Lycus’s cheek, and his tear splashed onto them. She brought her wet fingertips to her lips, though she couldn’t kiss away his suffering.
He stared at the ground, clenching both fists, then he glanced up at her, his eyes full of determination. “Forgive me, Airla, but I know that we won’t.” Streams of air spiraled from his hand
s, spinning in icy currents around and outward, toward the hundred trees in her meadow.
“What are you doing?” She spun, panic flooding her chest, making breath sting her lungs. The wisps of frigid wind surrounded her family, uprooting them.
Around them, the dryads screamed while their trees shot into the air.
She whirled back to Lycus, but he knelt upon the ground, his fists clenched tight in the air and a frosty, luminescent breath consuming his form. “Don’t do this!” Whatever this was.
Airla lifted one leg, attempting to veer toward him, but the gusts of a thousand winds blew at her so hard it was like fighting a solid wall. She slammed her open palms against the barrier, yet the gale pulled her backward, sweeping her up, too, with the trees and the dryads.
The whirlwind engulfed them, spinning them higher and faster, stealing her breath. On the ground below, she spotted the centaur, frozen as the winds encasing them.
Lycus, no. She formed the words, but no air escaped.
Then the meadow below disappeared and blinding white light struck her.
She crashed into something soft, fluffy, and cold as death. Snow? Coughing into air almost too icy to breathe, Airla staggered to her feet and whipped toward her tree. Those massive roots plunged into the rolling banks of snow, down deeper and deeper she sensed them, until finally they discovered soil and sank in relief, rooting firmly.
Around her, a cascade of concerned murmurs arose as the other nymphs emerged from behind their trees.
Airla gawked at their surroundings, at a sea of white land, so harsh and forbidding, it was like staring into oblivion.
She rubbed her arms and blew on her hands to warm them.
Damn you, Lycus. You’ve killed us all.
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Earth's Mark (Lords of Krete Book 2) Page 10
