by Marie Harte
A Total-E-Bound Publication
www.total-e-bound.com
Gale Season
ISBN #978-0-85715-306-7
©Copyright Marie Harte 2010
Cover Art by April Martinez ©Copyright October 2010
Edited by Claire Siemaszkiewicz
Total-E-Bound Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2010 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way
, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom
.
Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has been rated Total-e-burning.
The Storm Lords
GALE SEASON
Marie Harte
Prologue
Checking up on her charge, a brooding prince and Storm Lord who had no idea she existed, the last thing Alandra le Aelle expected to see in the grimy little Seattle apartment was bloodshed. She stared at the ongoing fight in shock, safely concealed by the shadows of the dingy room.
Several Light Bringers, Tanselm’s fierce Storm Lords, duelled with ‘Sin Garu, a malevolent Dark Lord and sorcerer who was seriously beginning to piss her off.
She had missed the signs that ‘Sin Garu would attack this soon, and worse, that he’d have the audacity to steal one of the Storm Lords’ mates, the River Prince’s beloved affai. Only three of the four Storm Lords were fighting back, and Marcus’ affai lay unconscious on the ground. Prince Darius, the fourth member of the legendary Royal Four, had returned to his homeworld of Tanselm with his new bride a month ago.
From what Alandra had observed, Darius’ marriage would be a strong one, one that would bode the land of Tanselm well against ‘Sin Garu and his Netharat, an evil scourge that no one, not even her family, found promising.
“Tessa! No!” Marcus cried from a large pool of red contaminant that chuckled gleefully in a language only Alandra could hear. Staring at the red goo, Alandra took a deep breath, frustrated that her intention to remain invisible, and thus effective, would have to change. The red goo, an immature youngster known more commonly as a Nocumat, clung to Marcus, his brother Cadmus, and even her charge, prince and Wind Mage Aerolus Storm.
She knew the youngster, Oxcen, would not relent until he had devoured them all. A Nocumat’s appetite was well-known for being one of the most voracious of the Shadren.
By the Shadow’s Curse, she hadn’t wanted to meet Aerolus like this. Damn Oxcen! She glared at his spreading substance, at the many hands and mirrored form of Marcus that moulded from his red being. How one of the Shadren came to be in this place, a world with so little magic as to be nonexistent, boggled the mind.
She shifted her gaze to ‘Sin Garu, who struggled against Marcus’ impressive defence. A thin sheen of water encased the sorcerer from head to toe, slowly suffocating him to death.
Good. A fitting end to the Dark Lord, considering his quest to subjugate not only the Storm Lords and their people, but all who opposed his future rule over Tanselm. To that end, he employed ice wraiths, the rebellious Djinn, and a handful of ignorant Shadren willing to believe in his obscene plans.
And speaking of ignorant Shadren…she glared at Oxcen as he toyed with Marcus and his brothers, and deliberately stepped closer to Aerolus.
Her Wind Mage, as she’d expected, had Oxcen’s appetite in hand, but even he could not hold the Nocumat back forever. Neither, for that matter, could ‘Sin Garu. What had he been thinking to bring a Nocumat here, of all places?
While ‘Sin Garu wrestled with Marcus’ magic, Alandra noted yet another complication, and her head began to throb. Cadmus, the Earth Lord, began flashing as if under a spell. She rubbed her temple, grimly wishing she had never heard of Tanselm and the Storm Lords. By all that was Shadow, the four identical princes are more trouble than they’re worth. She eyed Aerolus. Well, almost.
A movement to his left caught her attention. As if Cadmus’ odd shifting weren’t enough, the white-gold fiery form of a man covered in otherworldly black flames low-crawled towards ‘Sin Garu with his dark hand outstretched, threatening under his breath. A Djinn, a stupid, haughty, trouble-making Djinn, interfered openly in the presence of the narrow-minded Light Bringers. Had he no concept of what the Storm Lords would do with him once they rid their world of ‘Sin Garu?
Similar to the Shadren, the Djinn were widely regarded as evil, simply because they preferred, and even lived in, the dark. But like Alandra, this Djinn appeared to believe in the Storm Lords’ dynasty, knowing that only with their powerful leadership could the possibility exist that someday, somehow, the Djinn and Alandra’s people, the Aellei, might be allowed to return to Tanselm, a land of celebrated prosperity, wealth, and magic.
Tessa, Marcus’ affai, diverted her attention by rising to wield an incredible amount of elemental and psychic energy at ‘Sin Garu, draining some of Alandra’s psychic energy in the process. Extraordinary, she thought, staring at the warrior-like redhead with a hint of envy.
What she wouldn’t give to be that tall.
‘Sin Garu faltered, and in that moment, the Djinn grasped his ankle, merging his Dark energy with the sorcerer’s. Moved by his efforts to free his people, even at the cost of his own life, Alandra sent him a hint of her magic, pushing him and ‘Sin Garu towards a dark welling in the floor.
A moment later, a loud boom sounded, the noise made by their clumsy re-entry into the pathways between worlds. She had no idea where the Djinn would take ‘Sin Garu, or if the two would even survive the trip. But she had given the Djinn a chance, one he wouldn’t have had if he’d used his remaining energy to expel the sorcerer from this world.
“Marcus,” Tessa cried before falling to the floor.
Quickly noting what she’d ignored in her attempt to aid the Djinn, Alandra made a sudden decision to make her presence known. Aerolus couldn’t hold Oxcen back any longer, and her red kin was slowly consuming one Storm Lord while easing his way up Aerolus’ knees. And that would definitely not do.
Shimmering into the image of her aunt, the Aellein queen, Alandra assumed ‘the royal presence’ she’d learned through her miserable years spent at court. She decided to give young Oxcen a piece of her mind.
It would be too much to hope that he’d keep the tale of the queen’s visit to Seattle to himself. No doubt by this time tomorrow everyone in Aelle would know someone had impersonated the queen, yet another sin to add to Alandra’s lengthening list of crimes against her world and the royal family, of which she was no longer considered a part.
But she would at least have the chance to meet Aerolus face to face and give him the opportunity to see who’d been watching over him during his pressing time in this world. She hungrily studied him from head to toe, from his dark hair and glinting, silver eyes filled with power, to his broad, muscular chest, and lower, to that other impressive part of him.
She couldn’t help the naughty grin that escaped. Time to show Aerolus her patience had w
orn thin. And when she was done with him, maybe, just maybe, she’d finally get the irresistible Aerolus Storm to herself. What she wouldn’t do for five minutes alone in the dark with the Wind Mage…
Chapter One
Three weeks later
A little to the left, no, stop, don’t move. Okay, two more steps, ah,…there. Now, slowly, one button at a time. Yes, yes, that’s right.
Alandra, magically disguised as plain, middle-aged Trudy Warner, stared through the telescope carefully positioned in the corner of the bedroom, obscured from view by shuttered blinds and a large, potted fern should the male under scrutiny decide to give her window a second glance. She felt ridiculous having the fern near with closed blinds, but she knew better than to underestimate a Storm Lord.
“Oh yeah, baby,” she uttered on breath and a prayer. “I love that chest.”
Helplessly fascinated and growing steadily more aroused, she watched her tall, strapping neighbour lose his shirt as he readied, she assumed, for a bath—the light in his adjoining bathroom was on, and steam fogged the bathroom mirror.
She swallowed around a dry throat, wishing for a glass of water, but refused to leave the sight of Aerolus Storm stripping down to nothing.
Long fingers reached for the snap of his jeans, his hands graceful and sure as they unzipped the denim, allowing a brief thatch of dark hair to appear.
Mother of all that was holy.
She stopped breathing, anticipation making her almost dizzy. Come on, Aerolus. Drop them, already. I’m dying here!
Jeans slid slowly to his knees before he kicked them off, giving her an uninhibited view of sizzling male perfection. Golden skin rippled as he moved under the sunlight streaming through his room, casting beautiful shadows of a warrior in his prime. A sprinkling of dark, silky hair covered his upper chest, tapering over a taut abdomen packed with clearly delineated muscle. The hair trailed lightly down his belly to frame a thick, mouth-wateringly large shaft that whispered yours the longer she stared at it.
Shadows, how she wanted to touch that part of him.
She swallowed loudly, her heart hammering like a ringing alarm clock that refused to turn off. Trying to rein in her boiling needs, she took a deep breath, then released. Repeating the process several more times, she finally admitted she was hopelessly in lust with the god-like image before her.
Aerolus was so beautiful, so very desirable, and so utterly slow.
Her hands gripped the base of the telescope as she watched him stretch and rub his chest, a motion she could have been performing had the stubborn man answered her summons.
Instead, Aerolus Storm, both warrior and sorcerer, Storm Lord and Wind Mage, acted as if he had nothing to fear, as if she hadn’t rescued both him and his brothers from sure death just a few short weeks ago.
She huffed, perturbed that apparently she’d been so easy to forget, all the while her eyes remained glued to the naked mage rotating his neck and shoulders, which only emphasised the abundant physical strength he possessed in spades.
Aerolus appealed to her on more than a visual level, regrettably making her attraction all that harder to shake. The man’s extraordinary grasp of sorcery, especially considering he was really just a novice, and his potential for power thrilled the heart of her that pulsed with magic.
She itched to be near him, to stroke his warm skin and feel the energy that coursed in his blood. Scowling, she cursed the day Aerolus had sealed his house from all but the Light Bringers. Now, as much as she wanted to, she couldn’t simply phase into his home. Despite her pixie-like size when observing, she couldn’t pass the spelled shield he’d erected around the house. Even in the guise of an ant, she’d be expelled from the premises.
Thus her masquerade as Trudy Warner, the nosy neighbour.
Aerolus finished his stretch, capturing her attention once more. He did the oddest thing. Staring down at his shaft, he grasped it in a firm hand, then began rubbing it and closed his eyes. The action seemed at first clinical, but then his face changed, became charged with a raw intensity that caused an instant throbbing between her legs.
His fingers stretched his flesh, pulling almost viciously as his breathing quickened. Sweat beaded on her brow, and she licked her dry lips, wishing he were here with her, thrusting not into his hand, but inside her with that massive cock. Into her body and out of her system, ending this annoying craving she had for his touch.
His biceps clenched, and his forearm strained. She could see his nipples standing erect, as much from arousal as from the breeze that lifted his hair. Her breath caught as she saw his elemental nature freeing itself from its usual constriction.
Wind whipped at the sheets on his bed, at the papers lying atop his dresser, at the curtains framing his window, interrupting her scrutiny as dark fabric swirled against the panes. Glimpses of Aerolus showed him building towards climax, his neck muscles prominent, straining as he gritted his teeth and pumped faster.
Then suddenly the curtains dropped, the wind ceased, and Aerolus turned his head, blinking directly at the hidden telescope, at her. He should have been embarrassed. Shadows knew she would have been. But Aerolus stood uninhibited, still gripping his cock, his face an almost expressionless mask, unless one knew where to look.
She did. And the slight tightening around his eyes showed a muted frown. He released himself—a damned waste, in her opinion—and took a step towards the window, his eyes glowing with unfettered anger.
With a curse she flew back, knowing he couldn’t possibly have seen her, yet he had. She felt both annoyed and embarrassed to be caught peeping and sank heavily onto the bed. Well, really, it wasn’t as if he was around to cure her of this insatiable desire.
She shook her head, muttering under her breath and returned to the telescope. “Damn.” He’d disappeared, and the bathroom door had closed.
Alandra toyed with the idea of marching over there and asking for a cup of sugar, an egg, anything just to get inside that house again, a step closer to the man who, for reasons unknown, filled her every waking thought. Her growing obsession with Aerolus was irritating, alarming, and disturbingly arousing.
The last she’d seen, only Aerolus, his brother Cadmus, and that unpredictable sorcerer of Tanselm, Arim, were in residence. None of them would recognise her in this guise.
But did she want to take the chance she might be wrong?
Walking to the dresser mirror, she stared at the likeness of Dr. Trudy Warner, a nice, if boring, forty-nine year old woman currently on sabbatical in Europe. House-sitting for Professor Warner had been a no-brainer, a fortuitous circumstance she’d been hoping for when she’d first begun observing Aerolus a year ago.
To Trudy, she’d looked like an eager, naïve college student needing some extra cash. But to the Storm Lords, she remained Trudy Warner, an average neighbour who never attracted attention, the same dull professor day in and day out.
The month she’d been here had been hell, but so worth it if only to see Aerolus naked. Her lips quirked. This job had definite perks. And a killer downside. With the source of her attraction so close, it should have been easy to fulfil her needs.
Unfortunately, Aerolus felt no compunction about ignoring both her and the dire situation encroaching steadily nearer.
The doorbell rang, halting her indignation, and she hurriedly adjusted her attitude and mindset to match Trudy’s. As she slowly trudged down the steps, Alandra focused on recalling Trudy’s monotonous voice. Appearances were easy to assume, but voices and mannerisms took skill and practice—both of which she was working to improve.
She reached the front door and drew in a deep breath. She exhaled evenly as she opened the door with a pleasant if dim smile on her face. “Yes? Marcus, isn’t it?”
Aerolus frowned, his silver eyes glinting with suspicion. Oh, yes, he’d definitely noticed her watching him. “Actually, I’m his brother, Aerolus. We’ve never met.”
Thank the shadows. Now, how to play this to her advantage… If Arim weren�
�t in residence, she would have knocked on Aerolus’ door and demanded his cooperation weeks ago. But with the formidable Light Bringer at the house, maybe even spying on Aerolus as they spoke, she didn’t want to chance being recognised. Who knew what repercussions she’d suffer at his hands? And if word got back to the Aellei of what she’d been doing before she was ready to face them, she’d be better off dead.
Aerolus stared down at her curiously, and she realised she’d been staring as she thought. She flushed and tried to act intimidated, as Trudy would have.
“I’m so sorry, please, come in.” She stepped back and waited until he entered before locking the door behind him.
An idea firmed in her mind, one she’d been toying with for weeks in the event she was caught. Lies and deception worked so much better when a hint of truth worked into the mix.
“I know why you’re here,” she said in a strangled whisper, peering through her front window nervously before turning back to him.
“Excuse me?” His deep voice sent shivers through her that she worked hard to suppress. Why this happened only around him she had no idea. He was just a man, albeit the best looking one she’d ever seen.
“It’s that woman,” she whispered dramatically, pleased when he actually frowned. “I’ve seen her hanging around your house the past few days. I had a feeling I should have told you sooner.”
“A woman.”
She nodded.
His eyes narrowed. “Describe her.”
“She has white hair, stands a few inches shorter than me, and I guess you could say she’s quite pretty.” Gorgeous, really. As soon as she thought it, she wanted to smack herself in the head. Vanity at a time like this?
The Aellei wanted her dead, Arim would transform her into a spotted lizard if he knew she interfered with one of his precious Royal Four, and by now, Oxcen had told everyone the queen had ordered him away from a Storm Lord, the same queen who’d been in council for the past few weeks. One guess as to who had the gall to impersonate Her Royal Bitchiness and they’d be inscribing ’gorgeous‘ on Alandra’s burial marker.
