by L. M. French
Shadows of Rebellion
Four Territories
L.M. French
Published by L.M. French, 2021.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely
coincidental.
SHADOWS OF REBELLION
First edition. August 18, 2021.
Copyright © 2021 L.M. French.
Written by L.M. French.
Copyright © 2021
Cover Art by Miblart
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Shadows of Rebellion (Four Territories)
CHAPTER ONE | Veda
CHAPTER TWO | Veda
CHAPTER THREE | Veda
CHAPTER FOUR | Bay
CHAPTER FIVE | Ozias
CHAPTER SIX | Jericho
CHAPTER SEVEN | Veda
CHAPTER EIGHT | Veda
CHAPTER NINE | Veda
CHAPTER TEN | Veda
CHAPTER ELEVEN | Veda
CHAPTER TWELVE | Veda
CHAPTER THIRTEEN | Veda
CHAPTER FOURTEEN | Veda
CHAPTER FIFTEEN | Veda
CHAPTER SIXTEEN | Veda
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN | Veda
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN | Veda
CHAPTER NINETEEN | Veda
CHAPTER TWENTY | Phin
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE | Veda
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO | Bay
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE | Bay
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR | Bay
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE | Bay
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX | Veda
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN | Veda
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT | Veda
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE | Bay
CHAPTER THIRTY | Veda
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE | Veda
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO | Veda
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE | Bay
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR | Veda
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE | Veda
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX | Veda
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN | Veda
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT | Veda
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE | Ozias
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About the Author
Dedication
For all the women who struggled to find their place, their time, or their purpose; it’s not failure, it’s evolution. And that’s its own magic.
For my son Jack, mommy loves you but this most definitely will not end up in the school library. -You’re still the best hype man
Enter the Territories where war is brewing, danger grows from the very ground underfoot, and the forgotten return to reclaim what's theirs...
This is not a happily ever after. This is where it all went wrong. Our king is missing and terrifying breeds that disappeared centuries ago have returned to wage war on the Territories. And I am becoming... something.
Now I am on the run from an order that would see my kind extinct. The longer I survive rumors of an unstable half-breed grow, threatening my very existence.
My name is Veda Grey. I am the half-human sentinel and seal-bearer of the Four Territories. And if my current predicament is any indication, I'm about to be executed for treason.
CHAPTER ONE
Veda
Consciousness came slowly with it the knowledge something had definitely gone sideways. Like someone flipping breakers in a fuse box, each sense came on line one at a time. A steady drip drip drip tickled my ears. The taste of copper coated my throat.
A scraping sound? Feet shuffling?
I eased my eyes open cautiously. A wash of red filled my vision. It splashed and splattered around me on the concrete.
I was kneeling on the floor.
The events that had led me there filtered through my mind, my breath racing faster as awareness took hold.
Ivory.
Feet shuffled and again and that’s when I heard it.
Hissss.
It was a warehouse or had been judging from the crumbling brick and exposed plumbing. A quick look around told me two things. It had one door I needed to get through. And it was guarded by a snake eater.
Snake eaters were rare. Only called into duty by those who were charmed.
They were called only when someone did something very, very bad and were sentenced to die very, very painfully.
The King used them for acts of treason.
I had been on my way to emergency mediation when something - or someone rather - had snatched me between doors. Between doors.
The space between doors was ungoverned mainly because only sentinels could access them at will. And I was one of only a half dozen Sentinels. Even fewer species could access them at all.
So instead of the lights of the downtown boardwalk I’d found myself in a dirty warehouse. Getting the shit kicked out of me by Vaughn.
Vaughn is Ivory's second and my worst nightmare. We’re talking about a guy that’s taken hostility and run with it as his personal religion.
And I would know.
After chaining me to the stone pedestal I was now eye-level with, he had still found it pertinent to slam his ham-sized fist into my dainty face not one, not two, but three damn times.
In addition to my throbbing face my normally waist length brunette waves now hung in choppy layers around my neck and face. An act of desperation on my part when Vaughn had wrapped my long ponytail around his wrist for leverage.
As he’d dragged me back by my hair, I’d crossed my arms behind my head, quickly pulling free the knife strapped to my left forearm. I used the same momentum to cut through the slack in my braid. The move had granted me temporary freedom, but the end result had been the same.
Me, kneeling in a puddle of my own blood, left hand cuffed to the side of the pedestal, right hand secured palm up across the flat surface of the top awaiting death and dismemberment and not necessarily in that order.
Warrior Princess I was not.
No, I was just the half human, half sentinel seal-bearer for the four territories. And if my serpentine sidekick was any indication, I was about to be executed for treason.
My heart raced as I reeled from the realization that not only was I chained to this pedestal like a trussed-up turkey but was awaiting execution for gods only knew what. I wrenched my arm back and forth against the leather straps binding my right wrist. I just needed a little give.
Gritting my teeth, I braced my knees against the cool stone and pulled with my arms while pushing with my legs. My shoulders strained and popped. Grunting I slumped back across the stone. The only thing that was going to tear free was my shoulders and not in escapee fashion.
Super strength why do you elude me?
“Yers not getting loosse that away, female.”
Well, wasn’t he the bright one?
Maybe I could get him to say, ‘she sells seashells by the seashore’. Like a dying request. Give my death some entertainment value.
I gave one last pull (cause really what if it was the one?) hissing as the broken skin of my wrist tore further. Glorious. My left fared no better. A slight wiggle told me it was slick with blood from my extraordinarily pitiful efforts to free myself. At this rate, my escape plans were dwindling to pretty pretty please?
“I like the way you smell.”
That’s great.
I rolled my head on my neck to take in the snake eater. Larger than I expected but what did I know? Treason didn’t happen every day. Or if it did, they did it better than me seeing as I didn’t even know what I did.
I licked my lips. “I don’t suppose you’d believe this was all a misunderstanding and cut me loose?”
I mean, one can hope right?
But it wasn’t the snake eater
that answered. No, it was a voice I knew all too well. Ivory.
“Ah but you wouldn’t want to miss the show, little sister.”
Apparently hope had a shorter lifespan than a mayfly.
Oh yeah, Asshat Ivory was my foster brother. My much older, much less sane foster brother. I came along nearly two hundred years after him so I can't say for certain he was always a quart short of a full gallon, but it seemed likely.
Dread crawled up my spine locking my already sore muscles in place as I twisted my neck to watch as he approached.
Ivory's hair was white blond to my brunette and shaved high on the sides to make a thick mohawk down the center. If the nicks and cuts across his scalp were any indication, he’d used a lawnmower to do it.
He circled behind me seemingly unfazed by my lack of response. Puffs, chuffs and chortles broke the silence every few seconds.
Suddenly his hand gripped my hair wrenching my head back painfully. The metal cuff bit hard into my left wrist as my right hand fisted uselessly.
“Aren’t you going to ask me why you're here?”
With my head torqued back I had no choice but to meet his eyes. A nice summer green but filled with hate which unfortunately was nothing new.
“Lunch date?” I managed through clenched teeth.
His grip was savage, and I felt my skin shrink and tighten as if my scalp was preparing to split from the pressure.
He barked out a laugh and it was harsh, grating and at once... beautiful. But then, born of a Timorii priestess and a fae he was everything one would expect from such a union. With one exception.
He was batwing crazy.
Timorii were a rare, endangered species. They predated druids, witches, weres and even vampires. Some thought they were what man first called angels but those with Timorii blood knew better. Genetic memory was just one Timorii gift. The more Timorii blood you had the more distinct the memory.
But the bloodlines became diluted over time until there were no more full-blood Timorii left but one. Now the gifts and secrets of an entire race were spread far and wide among the very species they’d deemed unworthy for breeding.
Like me.
A vicious yank brought my attention back to Ivory.
“Am I boring you, little sister?” He sneered down at me and slid a knife free from its place across his chest.
He put it to my throat and used the flat of the blade to scrape at the skin of my neck, stopping when he reached my chin.
“Speak.” he demanded.
Or what? But I kept that thought behind closed lips. Dry lips I wanted to lick but that knife was a little close for comfort and I liked my tongue where it was, thank you very much.
I swallowed as gently as I could. “Why am I here?”
Why are you doing this? But I didn’t give that question airtime. I already knew. Ivory didn’t just hate me. He hated the air I breathed.
He tapped my chin with the blade and tsked. “You can do better than that.” He shook me by my hair rattling my teeth, “Why do you think?”
My eyes closed of their own volition as panic choked me. This was it. I was approaching my myriad. Ten thousand days my heart beat and if my sentinel blood outweighed the human, I would be out of danger. Unstable human half-breeds tended to melt down before their myriad.
Like a dog with a bone, he shook my head and pain stretched down my neck and shoulders.
“Open your eyes!” Gone was the beautiful, if deceptive, smile. The beast he was snarled, spittle flying, “You're here to pay for your crimes against me and mine, you treacherous bitch!”
Wait. What? Crimes? Against Ivory?
Laughter bubbled up and I slapped it down like a prom date with shifty hands. Now was not the time for hysteria to win a round. I needed to choose my next words carefully.
“You're crazy-”
Those were so not the right words.
He released my hair so suddenly my head bobbled. Not to worry, Ivory saved the day and slammed his fist into the side of my face. Less back and forth, more side to side.
If I had been all human that would've killed me.
Blood pooled in my mouth, and I spit it out.
He gripped my right hand where it was secured across the surface of the stone and slid another blade free. Milky white and stained with veins of red, it was made of bone from the hilt to the blade. Every Reaver carried one made from the waste of their first victory in battle.
Instinct had me trying to scramble away but my restraints held me in place.
“Wait! Ivory-” I felt the blade cut into the top of my wrist and I spoke so fast the words seemed to trip over themselves on the way out of my mouth. “WhateveritwasIdidn’tdoit-” Farther the blade sunk biting through tendons and ligaments, and I cried out.
“Sai will kill you for this.” I raged no longer caring if I angered him. He was cutting off my goddamn hand. “Our king did not sanction this; you're signing your own death warrant.”
Like all Reavers, Ivory’s eyes glowed red as his blood lust grew. Right now, they were neon fucking lights. His grin split his face.
“Not when I bring him proof of your betrayal. No, he won’t kill me little sister, he’ll thank me. Reward me even.”
I stilled. The warmth of blood and tears stained my face.
He believed it. Whatever he thought I’d done, he believed it. And he was going to kill me for it.
He was poised, ready to finish the dismemberment portion of the show. I shook my head. “He’s not going to give you what you want. Ever.”
Sai was the last full-blooded Timorii. Where I could use doors to jump space, Sai could jump time and dimensions. He could move through it fluidly.
He was also the only being that could give Ivory what he coveted most. A seal that would connect him to Sai’s power. A step towards true immortality.
Being an undead Timorii descendant had some drawbacks. Sure, he could soak up his vitamin-d but he’d lost his chance at ancestral memories and power. This particular inheritance was reserved for the living.
Ivory’s eyes were locked on mine, feverish with anticipation, bloodlust driving the runes under his skin to the surface revealing him for what he truly was. A power hungry Reaver.
Pain radiated up my arm, the agony causing bile to rush up my throat. I swallowed reflexively refusing to take my eyes off my brother.
He pressed deeper with the blade, and I bit the inside of my mouth until I tasted blood. I. Would. Not. Beg.
In the center of my palm was the seal, a sort of metaphysical brand from my king. As Ivory sawed through my wrist it began to burn as it lost its connection with my beating heart. The scorpion in the center of the seal seemed to lift and writhe stinging my palm.
My pulse roared in my ears as my heart frantically tried to compensate for the loss of blood. So not going to happen.
Darkness slid over my eyes as I started to slide into unconsciousness.
I never heard the door open, but Vaughn was suddenly beside Ivory, his scent and his voice all I could distinguish.
Bad guys should not smell like Armani. It’s a rule somewhere.
“This was not the plan.”
Vaughn.
“Her death was always the plan.”
Ivory. Super pissed.
“After he bit her. After we knew for certain she's the one.”
The one? The one what?
My thoughts flickered like lightning bugs, but I wasn’t dead yet. Yay me.
I opened my eyes, my vision doubling and then tripling before snapping back to total clarity with the sharpness of a rubber band.
Vaughn now stood between Ivory and the stone where I was slumped awkwardly.
“Move or take her place skoerii.”
I frowned. Skoerii was a Timorii word for bound slave. If Vaughn were skoerii, pissing Ivory off was not in his best interest. Not that I was going to stop him.
“If she’s the traitor let Moth bite her. We need proof or Sai will destroy us all and what you do
to me won't matter.”
Moth?
Footsteps approached from behind me and a glance over my shoulder told me it was the snake eater. Or I guess it was Moth. A snake eater named Moth. Un-freaking-believable.
The staring contest continued this time between Vaughn and Ivory until finally Ivory gave a curt nod.
Uh oh. Snake eaters were the ultimate lie detectors. Their poison had magical properties that paralyzed the body, was incredibly painful and would kill you if you were a big fat liar.
If he bit me, I would be as helpless as a wood sprite at an orc festival. Don’t let the name fool you, those things were wild.
Vaughn turned to watch as Moth lowered himself behind me. He wrapped his grey-green arms around my midsection, and gods how sad was it this was the closest I’d been to anything male in three years?
I tried to pull forward but as a rule snake eater were incredibly strong and I was going nowhere.
“Wait-” Fuck.
He bit down between my shoulder and my neck. I felt him work his jaws pumping poison into my veins. Agony raced through me.
Lightening raced through my veins as his magic went to war inside me. Fire built in the pit of my stomach churning and rolling until it reached the limits of its cage. Like oil and water, the force in my belly clashed with the snake eaters and it exploded contorting my body, searing my throat as I screamed.
As suddenly as it began the burning in my limbs banked to ashes. At some point my handcuff had broken and I realized I was hanging from the remnants of my right wrist. The feel of cool air registered across my back where the weight of Moths body had been.
More shrieks brought my head up. Moth lay a few feet behind me, his skin charred and blackened in patches from his throat to his belly where it became a big gaping hole that still smoldered as Vaughn held him down.
What the hell?
I brought my newly liberated hand up to where Moth had bitten me. Why wasn’t I paralyzed? Guilty or not, I shouldn’t be able to blink much less move.
Ivory stood over Vaughn and Moth with his back to me and I realized I was currently not on his radar. That would change as soon as his curiosity ebbed. I had to get my right hand loose and get to the door. I could jump from it. Ivory would never have held me so close to a route if he hadn’t been planning my cold-blooded murder.
