Awakened (Paranormal romance, YA fantasy) (The Guardian Legacy)

by Ednah Walters

  I blinked when he started to unbutton his shirt. What was he doing? I forced myself to focus on our conversation. “Fun…busy. We didn’t leave Stramboni until I was about ten, but before that, I never missed a show.”

  “Were you ever part of his act?”

  I laughed at the idea, my voice sounding funny to my ears. The purposeful way Bran was undoing that shirt bothered me. It was freezing.

  Why would he want to remove his shirt? “No way. He tried to make me his sidekick a few times, but I sucked. I mean, I’d gawk and get spooked along with the audience. We decided…what are you doing?”

  “Remember I wanted to show you something. This is it, so keep talking or I’ll chicken out.”

  It was hard to imagine him scared of anything. Or maybe he had to show me something icky. Please, don’t let him turn into Freddie Kruger or Dr. Jekyll junior. I never watched horror movies because I hated the unexpected.

  “Lil?”

  What if his skin turned red and he grew horns, like the demons in theology books? No, he was part water demon. He could be a two-legged sea monster. I swallowed, my mouth going dry.

  “Please don’t stop talking,” he begged.

  The vulnerable tone got to me. “We decided it was best for me watch him from the sideline,” I said, my voice uneven. “Grampa was magnificent. Of course, uh, at the time I didn’t know his performances were real. I just assumed they were, uh, illusions.”

  Bran shrugged off his shirt and let it drop on the ground. He stood before me naked from the waist up. I stared, awed. He was glorious, breathtaking. Face of an angel, body of a runner with well-defined and lean muscles, ridged stomach. The scar on his chest was the only mar on the smooth and golden perfection.

  Goose bumps spread on the surface of my skin, yet frenzied heat coiled throughout my body. His chest rose and fell, drawing my eyes to his. Stormy green stared back at me. I tensed, not sure what to expect.

  “How did you get the scar on your chest?” I asked to distract myself.

  His lips twisted in a sad smile. “The night we tried to escape, Valafar’s guards killed my father and took us back. I wore my grandfather’s amulet, given to me by my father. The guards were enraged when they saw it.” His voice slowed to a shaky whisper. “One in particular considered it a personal insult. She burned it.”

  I gasped. “While you wore it? Who would do such a terrible thing?”

  He was silent for a long time, his face stony.

  A foreboding feeling washed over me. “Bran?”

  A sigh escaped him. “My mother,” he whispered.

  Shock slammed through me. My mouth opened, but no sound came out. Bile rose to my throat. What an awful mother. How could she do that to him?

  Without breaking eye contact with me, Bran started talking, at first choosing his words, then faster as though a dam had broken in his inner core. “She was never happy with the choice Coronis forced on her. You know, marrying my father, the son of a Cardinal Guardian. Since she couldn’t punish him, she took it out on us. Gavyn and I were the first to get to the training field and the last to leave. We were punished the harshest if we made a mistake. We had to prove ourselves, not just to her but to our training mates. And our inferior Guardian genes were often blamed for our mistakes.” He took a deep breath and exhaled. “The night of our escape, when the guards took us to her, I’d never seen her so pissed. She took me to a shack in the forest and held me down while she scorched the amulet.”

  His face scrunched up as though he was reliving the moment, but his eyes didn’t waver from mine. I wanted to ease his pain, but I didn’t know how. So I cried for him. Silent tear drops raced down my face.

  “She poured saltwater on the wound, so it would heal and stay creased. A reminder of my shame, she told me. For days, I stayed in that cabin. I don’t know what she did, but I lost sense of time. Celeste must have found out because she sneaked me some food and water. She was only thirteen, but very brave. No one goes against Lazari guards. I begged her to stop, but she wouldn’t listen. Without her, this,” he touched the scar on his chest, “would have been worse.”

  “Where was Gavyn?” I whispered in a shaking voice. “Why couldn’t he help you?”

  Bran shook his head. “He couldn’t. Our mother had put him in isolation at their headquarters. Of course, I didn’t know about this at the time, but the others heard his screams. I don’t know what they did to him. When he returned home, his black hair had turned white. And he acted different. Gavyn was the family jokester. He’d make us laugh with his impersonation of our instructors, guards. He became like our mother, mean and driven.”

  This explained why Bran saw the goodness in Gavyn no matter how bad or evil his brother acted. This time, I got to my feet, reached out to touch him, share his pain. He dropped his head, closed his eyes tight and appeared to be straining. Was his crying?

  “Bran,” I whispered and reached for his hand. Then I gasped as the wings rose from behind him, stretching, shooting above his shoulders. The span was over twice his size. Beams from the crescent moon danced off the silvery feathers on the inside and the edges, giving him an ethereal glow.

  The outside ones were black like his hair.

  He widened his stance for balance and folded his arms across his naked chest. His head lifted. “This is what I meant to show you.”

  My mouth opened and closed. Eyes darted from one wing to the other, the urge to reach out and touch stealing through me. “An angel,” I whispered.

  He gave me his special punch-in-the-gut smile as if he hadn’t already stolen my breath. “No. I’m a Werenephil with retractable wings, just like my father. When the Cardinals and the CT saw them, they knew I was Tariel’s grandson. The outside black feathers, but inside white is like a birthmark in my family.”

  I wanted to touch them, feel their texture. “Does Gavyn have them?”

  “No. Just me.”

  “Do you fly?”

  Bran grinned, moon beams bouncing off his sparkling teeth. “Always. Would you like to go for a ride?” He offered me his hand, pulled me up and into his arms.

  My hand splayed on his naked chest. A shiver raced through me even though reacting to his nearness and nakedness was the last thing on my mind. My gaze stayed locked on his feathers. I wanted to confirm they were real. Fine plumes sprinkled the back of his neck. I ran my fingers over them. So soft. His wings fluttered at my touch, opening and closing with each stroke of my hand.

  “You can’t fly carrying me. I weigh a ton,” I said.

  “Of course I can carry you,” Bran said in a smug tone.

  I leaned back and caught the flash of heat in his eyes. His heart drummed like tom-tom under my left hand. I dropped my hands to my side and stepped back. His hands left my waist.

  “Can you really? You know, carry me?” I asked.

  “Piece of cake. But keep doubting me and I’ll feel like a total loser.” He slid his hands in the front pockets of his pants and rocked on his heels. The wings folded closer and tighter to hug his back like a cloak. “So what do you say?”

  “Is it safe?”

  “Chicken.”

  “Not,” I retorted. I walked around him and studied his back. His wings were huge, the feathers thick and abundant. Some short, others long. They appeared to form a V-shape from his shoulder to his mid-back region though soft downy covered the bases, dotting most of his back from nape to waist. How would he carry me?

  He turned and faced me, opened his arms. “Come on, Sunshine. We’ve got about thirty minutes before I have to take you home. I want to make the most of tonight.”

  So did I, but I’d be beyond humiliated if I turned out to be too heavy for him. I mean, I was almost as tall as he, and I wasn’t rail-thin. “If you’re sure.”

  He reached inside his pocket and pulled out the band he took from my hair during our drive over. Then he proceeded to bundle my long mane into a ponytail. Once done, he ran his knuckles down the side of my face. “I can handle it, worr
ywart.”

  I heard the laughter in his voice. “You’d better, or I’ll come back and haunt you.”

  “I thought I was the ghost,” he teased, reminding me of the first time we met. His hands went back to my waist, pulled me closer until our chests brushed. His scent, his warmth engulfed me. I wanted him to kiss me right at that moment.

  “Put your arms around my neck,” he instructed.

  As soon as I wound my arms around his neck, he scooped me up, one arm around my middle, the other under my thighs. He cradled me close, like I was precious. Heart beating so loud I was sure he could hear it, I lay my head against the side of his neck. His skin was searing. All I had to do was turn my head and our lips would meet. Sheesh, I was becoming obsessed with kissing him.

  Bran adjusted his stance, bent his knees and spread out his wings. “Ready?” he asked.

  I nodded.

  His wings whipped up and down, sending dead grass, pizza boxes and pop cans flying around our picnic area. We rose up above the mountain range, my stomach dipping as he shot toward the moonlit sky. Currents of cool air whipped my hair back, caressed the surface of my skin, but Bran’s warm body insulated me from the bite. I glanced below and my heart jumped to my throat. We were so high, the trust in Bran the only thing between me and the ground. I tightened my arms around his neck.

  Night lights gleamed like diamond studs on the valley floor. I located my school, the RV Park, caught the reflecting surface of Logan River meandering through the valley floor. It was breathtaking.

  “Well?” Bran asked. His breath was hot against my forehead, causing me to shiver.

  “Love it. Go faster.”

  His wings pushed the air, whipping his coat I’d borrowed around my legs. My laughter mingled with his, my insides rolling one way then the other as he shot up then glided. He zipped across the valley sky. Gravity pulled my body down. My stomach lurched, my eyes watered, but being held so close to Bran’s body felt wonderful.

  When he did loops and spirals, I screamed, scared and exhilarated at the same time. But I had nothing to worry about. His hold on me stayed firm and steady. I loved it best when he flew upside down, his face bathed by the moonlight, his perfect lips curved in a contented smile.

  We flew clear of Wellsville Mountain then swooped to the other side. Brigham City’s lights welcomed us, Ogden twinkled in the distance. Bran slowed down and went on cruise mode, whooshing and gliding. Gentle breeze floated past us and not a single cloud blanketed the star studded sky. I sighed with bliss.

  He dropped his head to speak, his lips almost touching mine. “I told you carrying you would be a piece of cake.”

  I heard his words, but I was busy telling myself to breathe and stop fantasizing about kissing him to respond. We were hundreds of feet in the air, for pity sakes. But he was right about carrying me. He didn’t even sound winded as we dipped and glided. “When did you get your powers?” I asked him

  “At sixteen, just like you. First were my water abilities. Six months later, my wings appeared. Scared the heck out of me.”

  “Why? Aren’t there any winged Hermonites on Coronis Isle?”

  “Oh yes, the ravens.”

  I frowned. “Who?”

  “Pure Werenephils with the ability to shape shift into ravens. They make up Coronis’ security team. She doesn’t trust anyone but her own. The rest of the Hermonites are cross-breeds of all the Nephilim groups. The most powerful of them are the nature-benders.”

  I shivered, remembering what the trainees had told me about the nature-benders. “Are there winged Guardians?” I asked.

  “According to your grandfather, a few here and there. We should head home.”

  I didn’t want the night to end. I remembered the terrible headache I would get when I first got my powers. “Does it hurt when your wings come out?”

  He was quiet for a long time as though pondering my question. “A bit. I’m getting better at it. When my wings appeared, it hurt like nothing I’d ever experienced before. Luckily, I was alone. It took a while to learn how to focus and contain the pain. It took me a year to master flight because I had to practice in secret. Flying with a passenger is new to me though. You’re the second person I’ve taken up.”

  Who was the first? Envy rippled through me. “So why do you keep it a secret?”

  “Because I didn’t want to end up in Coronis’ breeding program. In my family, only Celeste knows. She almost gave me away though. The one and only time I took her up, we found out she suffers from motion sickness.”

  “Yikes.”

  “Yeah, she threw up all over me. It was a real mess.” He chuckled. “We stunk so much we had to wash off in a stream near Mount Hermon, then sneaked back inside the house and changed before our mother got home. She smelled it anyway. Celeste faked a stomach ache.”

  We crossed the valley sky and headed toward our picnic ledge. Bran hovered above the ground then stepped down.

  My legs wobbled when I slid off him. He steadied me, his hands firm on my hips. “You okay?” he asked.

  “Oh yeah. That was…amazing. Thank you for taking me up.”

  “So you would do it again?” he asked, sounding anxious as though my answer was very important.

  “In a heartbeat. I don’t know how you can stand being on land when you could be up there.”

  “I try to fly every night. It might sound weird, but I often feel like I’m leaving all my worries and problems behind whenever I take off.”

  “I know exactly what you mean. I felt free and uninhibited up there.” We shared a smile. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him, and didn’t want to leave though I knew we had only a few minutes.

  “We should go,” he said but his hands tightened around my waist as if he didn’t want to let me go. Then I felt his energy reach out to mine, a gentle caress that lingered and left me breathless.

  “Yes,” I answered in a sigh. But kiss me first, I wanted to tell him. Give me the perfect ending to a perfect date. But Bran seemed content with studying me under the moonlight just like I studied him. He was beautiful, the silver feathers reflecting moon beams and making him glow.

  He reached up and caressed my cheek. “No, you’re the beautiful one.”

  “Get out of my head,” I ordered him though my voice was shaky and my mouth dry.

  He chuckled, forked his fingers through my hair and lowered his head toward mine. My eyes widened. Energy zipped through my veins. Then he stopped. Just like that, he went still as though unsure, as though debating with himself whether to go through with it or not.

  15. FIRST KISS, TRUTH AT LAST

  As though giving me a chance to stop him, Bran leaned closer and closer. We shared a breath so sweet and intoxicating my eyelids dropped and a soft sigh escaped me. Then he was there, his lips touching mine. Soft brushes. A spark of electricity shot from my lips and raced underneath my skin.

  He pulled me closer and anchored me to him. Incredible sensations blazed through me like wildfire. I didn’t know what to do. Kiss him back? My mind went blank, and a ringing started in my ears.

  Then his lips were gone, and I was left panting. He stroked my face and pressed his forehead to mine. I don’t how long it took before I felt near normal enough to open my eyes. Bran watched me, his chest expanding and contracting. His grip tightened on my waist while he massaged my scalp in slow soothing motion with his other hand.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice above a whisper.

  “I think so. You?” My voice was shaky, but for once I didn’t care.

  “I’m good.”

  This was my first kiss, and now I knew why kids made out in cars or wherever they could. I wanted Bran to kiss me again. A lot. “Is it always like that?”

  A dimple appeared and disappeared from his cheeks, his eyes twinkling. “Like what?”

  “Exciting and beautiful.”

  He touched my cheek, again. “No. It’s different with you.” His watch beeped. “Nine-twenty-five, we’d better go. I’ll
collect the picnic stuff later.”

  I didn’t want to leave, didn’t want the night to end. But his wings had already retracted, and when he reached for his shirt, the moonlight showed smooth skin, no scar or hint that wings had graced his back. But one lone feather floated to the ground right beside me.

  I scooped it up, twirled it between my fingers. A faint pine scent teased my senses, and I smiled. “Look.”

  Bran turned and saw the silver plume. I couldn’t read his expression as he stared hard at it. I offered him the feather. He shook his head. “No. I don’t want it. Keep it if you like.”

  I slipped the feather in my back pocket. Not that I needed a reminder of tonight. Every tiny detail of my date with Bran was etched in my brain.

  When Bran opened his arms, I slipped in them and hugged him close. My earlier insecurity was gone. I liked Bran, more than liked him, and I refused to pretend otherwise.

  “Will I see you tomorrow?”

  His arm tightened around me. “I’ll stop by your place in the evening if your grandfather doesn’t mind.”

  This time around, I didn’t close my eyes when we teleported. One minute we were under the moonlight, mountains behind us and the valley before us. The images peeled away to be replaced by neon lights, walls and furniture. My feet sunk into the carpeted floor. We were at my trailer.

  Grampa in his striped pajamas and a navy blue robe sat on his favorite rocking chair, his long graying hair a spiky mess around his shoulders. It looked like he ran his fingers through it. He looked up from his watch when we appeared.

  I grinned, stepping out of Bran’s arms. “Nine-thirty, here we are,” I said.

  “Ninety-twenty-eight,” Grampa corrected and stood. He extended a hand toward Bran. “You kept your word.”

  Bran gripped the offered hand, grinned. “I did, sir. I’ll go get your truck now.”

  Grampa nodded. “Good. However, next time you decide to take my granddaughter flying, stay within our airspace. The protective shield over the valley doesn’t cover the mountains.”