by Tenaya Jayne
When he had looked at her sleeping, he had only gotten part of the whole picture, and he hadn’t seen her eyes at all which were devastating in the extreme. He didn’t know how he held himself still as he looked at her full mouth, realizing that he had kissed it many times without knowing how exquisite it was and how it begged for his. Her curly chestnut hair hung long in a riot down her back. And her body, oh how he was blessed! His hands throbbed as he looked at her body.
Forest smiled at his obvious pleasure. “Like it, do you?”
Syrus couldn’t even articulate an answer. His mouth opened to reply, but nothing came out. Forest’s smile turned wicked, and she turned in a slow seductive circle.
Syrus moaned and then turned demanding, “Come here! Now!”
She rushed into his arms, but as she did, the hateful sound of approaching wolves registered in her brain. Syrus swore elegantly.
“I’m really beginning to think we’re cursed here,” he said.
“I’ve always been cursed, and now you’ve inherited it, being mated with me.”
They both listened. They were more than a little outnumbered. Wolves in wolf form, man form, and beast form were closing in on them.
“What do we do?” she asked. “They’ll chase if we run.”
“Yes, and I’m too weak to run very fast. I’m too weak to fight, and I don’t have my swords anyway.”
“Maybe Maxcarion will hide us,” Forest suggested.
They approached the tree, but before Forest could touch it, she knew it was no good. The optical illusion had changed, and she could feel new defensive magic blocking them.
“Well, I guess this is my last night after all.” She looked tearfully into Syrus’ eyes. Tears surfaced in his as well.
He folded her into his arms and rested his cheek on top of her head. “I couldn’t have chosen a better end than with you,” he said.
“I love you.” Her voice trembled. “I’ve never said that before. Not to anyone.”
The wolves were closing in, bringing death with them. And in this moment of would-be terror, Syrus held her face gently in his hands and gazed into her eyes. Everything around them faded away. A lifetime of tenderness, and passion, and I love yous, were concentrated into that moment. The world was nothing but the two of them, and it was full of peace.
A crash of metal made both of them jump. Redge in the lead, the troop of royal vampires charged into the graveyard and formed a protective circle around them.
“Protect the prince!” Redge ordered.
The approaching wolves roared and charged faster through the trees. They were still outnumbered. The vampire’s swords flashed through the air, hacking the wolves in front to death. Syrus’ arms tightened around Forest. In the noise and movement, Redge came to the center to Forest and Syrus.
“I’ve got the end of the bridge!” he shouted. “I’m going to open it!”
Redge pulled the ball from the chain around his neck and smashed it between his hands. A glowing portal opened, and a fierce wind kicked up, pulling all of them into it. Forest closed her eyes and held onto Syrus as tightly as she could. The wind rushing around them was deafening. Something crashed into the back of Forest’s head. Everything went black as the portal dumped them, and the entire vampire troop, unceremoniously in the throne room of the Onyx castle.
All Forest knew was gleaned from the blurry snatches of things going on around her. She didn’t care about anything except that she could still feel Syrus’ arms around her. Heated arguing filled her ears like water, thick and muffled. She was trying to come back when Syrus tensed around her.
“NO!” he shouted.
Something was wrong. She was trying so hard to come back. Then she was covered with hands. Harsh strong hands pulled her from Syrus. She tried to hold on, but her arms were useless. His voice resounded in her ears, moving further and further away from her, and she couldn’t answer.
“Forest! Forest!”
She could feel the stone floor beneath her, about to regain consciousness, when someone lifted her shoulders and brought her head back down on the floor with a crack. Blackness enveloped.
****
Unfamiliar voices talked in hushed tones above her. She was no longer on the floor but in a bed. She could feel the smallness of the room around her. Pain spiked in the back of her skull, bringing back the memory of being smashed on the floor. Oh, if she ever found out who did that to her!
“Is she dead?” a soft female voice asked.
“No, my queen.”
“Then kill her.”
“I cannot. The king gave orders that she was not to be harmed.”
“So? Pretend that you did not hear the orders. I’ll get you out of any trouble.”
Forest decided this was a good moment to open her eyes. Her would-be killers both gasped at her sudden awakening. One was an ogre the other was Queen Christiana. She’d heard of bad mother-in-laws, but this seemed a little extreme. Forest considered for a second before she thought, To hell with it.
“SYRUS!” she screamed. “SYRU—”
Christiana clamped a hand over her mouth. “I’ve heard the whole story, you grasping little Halfling! I won’t rest until you’re dead. You will never see my son again. And you will never sit on the throne!”
Damn the consequences, Forest was going to kick her royal ass, with all due respect, of course. Unfortunately, she was tied down.
“You really won’t kill her?” she asked the ogre.
He shook his head severely.
Christiana huffed in exasperation. “Fine!" she spat. "Open a portal!"
“To where, my queen?”
“Earth.”
“To the place where she lives there?” the ogre asked.
“Whatever! I don’t care.”
The ogre struck the air, and a swirling black portal opened next to him.
“I, Queen Christiana, speak into law, that Forest, the Halfling, is banished from Regia, forbidden to ever return.”
She kept her hand over Forest’s mouth as the ogre untied her. Then Christiana stepped back and the ogre scooped her off the bed and threw her into the portal. Forest screamed for Syrus as she fell through the black hole that pulled her back to Austin. It dumped her on her bed, back in her condo, and closed behind her.
Forest drowned in sorrow marbled with rage. This wasn’t the end. Her stomach twisted with nausea at being separated from Syrus. It was as though her heart had been cut from her chest and she was kept alive on bypass. She could almost hear him calling for her. Almost feel him reaching for her across the universe. She knew he would never stop reaching until he held her in his arms again.
The End
Forest Fire
The Legends of Regia
Book two
By Tenaya Jayne
Kindle Edition
Copyright © 2013 by Tenaya Jayne
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without the written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations used in reviews.
ISBN-10:0-9882757-2-4
ISBN-13:978-0-9882757-2-0
Edited by Finish The Story
Second edition proofread by T.K.
Cover art by Erika Doucesse
Cold Fire Publishing LLC
Dedicated to Stephanie, a princess in her own right.
Prologue
"Protect the prince!"
Redge’s yelling voice was the best sound Syrus had ever heard. Fighting erupted around them but rather than join in, Syrus pulled Forest tighter into his chest. He was whole now. He was hers, and she would always possess him. Chaos, danger, and death reigned all around, yet there was nothing but silence and peace
inside him.
Redge opened the End of the Bridge.
The harsh wind pulled them into the portal, but with Forest in Syrus’ arms, he felt shielded from it. They were encapsulated in the heart of the raging noise. Regrettably, his vision would fade soon. He wanted to use the time to get lost in Forest’s eyes, but she had her face buried in his chest, so he contented himself with watching her hair dance in the wind around them.
The soldiers in the portal tumbled in disarray. Mesmerized by Forest, Syrus didn’t react fast enough to stop the foot of one from slamming into the back of her head. He felt the force of the blow in his own head, coupled with an insane fury that she had been hurt. She had been clinging tightly to him but now her arms were limp.
He didn’t fear for her life. Since they had forged their connections, he would know if her life was in danger and the extent of any injury she might suffer without ever having to see it; the knowledge was innate. His heart could feel the beating of hers. The blow to her head had only knocked her unconscious.
In the next second, the portal dumped them and the whole troop of soldiers in a heap in the throne room of the Onyx Castle. Syrus’ sight blurred around the edges. The soldiers untangled themselves and rose to their feet, leaving Syrus in the middle of the floor, cradling Forest against him. He tipped her head back and gazed at her face for the last remaining moments of his vision. He was only dimly aware of the movement and talk around him. The unmistakable lilt of his mother’s voice was trying to break its way into his attention. He paid no mind. The world was nothing, there was only Forest. He stroked her cheek with the pads of his fingers and kissed her lips.
"I demand to know what is going on!" Christiana yelled. "Syrus! Syrus, stop it! You debase yourself in public! Get off the floor! Let go of that disgusting aberration! Syrus!"
The only thing his mother said that registered in his brain was the insult to Forest.
"She’s my destined life mate, mother," he said calmly, without taking his eyes from Forest.
"No!" she screamed in a whisper. "No! It can’t be!" She turned her wide furious eyes on Redge.
Redge merely shrugged.
"Syrus, it’s not the truth," she said with forced composure. "You’ve been bewitched. You’re sick, and you need medical attention."
Christiana clapped her hands, and five ogres came rushing forward. Syrus looked up and saw Redge fleeing the throne room.
Christiana sent the soldiers away before giving the ogres any orders. The less witnesses the better. She pointed at Syrus. "All right. Three of you take the prince to his chambers and keep him there. Subdue him if necessary, but do not let him out."
Syrus’ vision darkened down to blurs and shadows. Everything he'd just gone through left him too weak to have a prayer of fighting off three ogres. Six huge hands grabbed him. "NO! NO! Mother, don’t do this!" His heart cried out as loud as his lungs as Forest was wrenched from his arms. "FOREST! FOREST!"
The last thing Syrus saw was Forest lying unconscious on the floor with his mother standing triumphantly over her. Then his eyes slid into darkness. His cries reverberated through the whole castle until he was shut in and locked down.
****
Forest's eyelids fluttered and she moaned. Christiana grabbed her roughly by the shoulders, lifted her, and then slammed her head back down on the floor, knocking her unconscious again.
"Now, one of you, get this piece of filth out of my throne room," Christiana ordered.
"What shall we do with her?"
"Christiana!" Zeren barged into the room with Redge on his heels. "What is going on here?" Zeren looked down at Forest and then over to the ogres waiting to do the queen’s bidding. "Put her in a clean room and get her a doctor. No harm is to come to her."
The ogres looked uncertainly at the queen.
"Now!" Zeren yelled.
Forest was picked up and taken from the room.
"Now." Zeren turned his attention on his wife. "Tell me what is going on. Where’s Syrus?"
"He was injured. He is resting in his chambers," she said innocently.
"Remember your place, Christiana," Zeren said sternly. "I’m going to see my son."
He turned to leave the room as a messenger came rushing in.
"Your highness! Fighting has broken out in the shifter colonies. Philippe’s armies are moving out. They march on Kyhael!"
Zeren looked momentarily torn before turning to Redge. "Come with me."
The two men left the room without a backward glance at the queen.
"Give me orders, my king," Redge said.
"I want you to stay close to Syrus. Pay attention to what the queen does. I don’t want her interfering in anything."
"Yes, my king."
Zeren grabbed Redge firmly by the shoulder. "Do everything you can to keep things neutral here, everything in your power. Christiana has no authority to relieve you of your position. Don't let her harm the young woman that came back with Syrus."
Redge nodded and Zeren rushed off to confer with his generals.
Chapter One
The Werewolf Lair
The aquamarine moonlight reached down, caressing Netriet as she lay on the stone floor. She ached to open the closed balcony doors and let the moonlight fill the room, but the chain around her wrist would not permit it. She was beyond the pain. The cold of the stone under her clawed deep into the tissue of her flesh for hours and hours, finally releasing her to the pleasure of numbness. Perhaps this would be her last night. She turned aside her feelings of failure and let her eyes slide out of focus in the beautifully dim light.
She was positive she had missed her window to kill Philippe. He'd left two days ago in a towering rage after learning Forest had lied, escaped his grasp, and he’d lost the collar in the process. She’d heard the movement of the army far below her at the base of the mountain, but now all was quiet. Death moved around the edges of the room, whispering peaceful seductions. Her eyelids became heavier and heavier with every blink. Sleep descended as gently as the moonlight.
"Nettie," his voice sounded strained. "Nettie, wake up."
The smell of blood woke her more efficiently than his shaking her. Philippe’s face was close to hers when she opened her eyes, his beard tickling her neck. He had come back. Either that or she was dreaming. He stank of blood and sweat. A dirty gash stretched across his forehead, and fingernail scratches extended down his cheeks.
"So," she said weakly as he picked her up off the floor. "You didn’t forget me after all."
"No, I was…"
Netriet reached up and gently caressed his face. His eyebrows pulled down as his black eyes bore sharply into hers. He searched her face for a moment before a small smile pulled into one side of his mouth.
"I have wondered," he said quietly. "I thought it might be like that."
He hoisted her up and crushed her mouth in a harsh kiss.
Netriet felt smothered under his ardor as he dumped her on the bed. "Wait," she said desperately as he pulled his cloak from his shoulders and dropped it to the floor.
"What?"
She held up her wrist. "Please take it off."
He narrowed his eyes for a second then shrugged and went to get the key from across the room. Her arm was freed, and he again smothered her. She let her muscles go lax, and she lay there like a corpse.
He noticed soon enough. "What’s wrong with you?" he demanded.
"I’m just so weak. I haven’t eaten in days and days. I’m sorry. I really want to participate."
He smiled broadly and pulled his shirt over his head. His torso was covered in deep purple bruises.
"What happened to you?" she asked.
"Here." He offered her his forearm.
She sat up a little and sank her teeth deep into his flesh. This was the opportunity she had been waiting for. She pulled as hard as she could on his veins.
"My position was challenged," he explained. "I had to fight two contenders. They’re both dead now. The army is marching to
Kyhael. I will join them tomorrow, but I had to come back to tie up a few loose ends. I’ve got to get the…the…uh…"
It was starting to work. Netriet pulled harder and harder. She had never taken this much blood at one time from anyone. She looked up at his face. His eyes turned glassy. She continued to drain him.
"Those idiots keep using the wrong words. I swear it didn’t take me half this time to become…become fluent in French. I don’t think they…um…understand why I made them…I mean…aren’t you done yet?"
He was on the brink. She felt flooded, but with two more deep pulls, he would be right where she wanted him. He stroked the back of her head and then staggered to the side, pulling his arm from her mouth. She sat upright, her strength returned, but she felt nauseated. He looked at her confusedly, his eyes dilated.
"Come here. Lie down. You need to rest," she said.
He obeyed her instantly. "Yes. I’m so tired."
Philippe lay down next to her. All his carnal intentions had vanished, and he closed his eyes. She smiled to herself. He’d been so arrogant before, insisting that if she bit him, she’d have no persuasion over him. What a crock. She sat still for a moment. There were numbers of things she could do to kill him, but she wanted to make sure that when he was found, his death would be one of humiliating circumstances. A new werewolf leader would emerge, but with Philippe dead, there would be discord. The new leader would need time to establish his authority and make changes to the whole community. The future of Regia lay in her hands, well, her hand.
She watched his chest rise and fall and considered the matter carefully. The vampires would write songs in her honor. Oh, that would just burn the queen’s ass. No one even knew she was still alive and she was about to hand her race the war.
For the next hour, Netriet monitored Philippe’s vital signs. She continued to take blood from him to keep him right on that dangerous edge. Everything still seemed quiet and empty in the mountain, but she locked the heavy doors and slid a long sword through the handles just in case. She kept the setup simple. She unhooked the chain that had held her captive all this time from the wall and dragged it out onto the balcony. It would be an adequate trip line.
