Shattered: An Urban Romantic Fantasy

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Shattered: An Urban Romantic Fantasy Page 2

by E E Everly


  “Is that why you were laughing?” His body shuddered with a chuckle, causing mine to shake. My stomach flip-flopped as I became aware of his strength and masculinity. And his youth. He was near my age—eighteen—and his arms were like the guys’ on my high school’s baseball team.

  Oh, wow. I could really dream.

  “This is not a dream, and I am equally confused,” he said. “Never in my life have I soared on my own wings made from the light, but it felt natural, as if I’d done it my whole life.”

  Never? I pulled back. I got as far as him holding my biceps. He didn’t want to let go.

  “What’s your name?” he asked. “I’m Cystenian.”

  “Anerah. I haven’t met a Cystenian before. Where’d you come from? If you say England, I’ll definitely know this is not real.” I turned my forearms up and outward to remove his grip on my upper arms. He allowed the break in contact, and I stepped away to hide a blush. The flight had been too intimate, I realized. Not sure what else to do, I dipped a toe into the freezing stream and promptly shivered.

  “I’m from the fifth vale of Emira.” Cystenian stepped into the creek, capturing my full attention. His feet were bare like mine. He wore pants that stopped below his knees and a tunic with an upturned collar opening to a V-neck. A bit renaissance?

  He had more clothes covering his body than I did. I immediately felt way underdressed and wrapped my arms over my chest.

  Cystenian looked like a sheepish little boy, standing in the creek the way he was. He grinned up at me, because I stood higher on the bank. “I think a joke is being played on us. My mind is perfectly clear; I’m aware of my actions, but my body moves without my permission.”

  I yanked on a golden curl hanging in his eye. Why was I being so forward? “Isn’t that how dreams are? Have you never had one like this?”

  He pulled me toward himself, into the ankle-deep water. My feet were no longer cold. His touch warmed my entire body. I prepared myself for whatever turn this dream might take. At this point, anything could happen, and Cystenian was my angel, so it would be okay. Despite thinking that, my stomach fluttered, and my hands shook.

  “Anerah, why do you tremble? Did I hurt you?” He tilted my chin up as if he were going to kiss me.

  This is it. I’ll finally wake. No one had ever kissed me in my dreams. I always, every single time, woke up just before it happened.

  “Come, we must move away from here and from this mischief,” Cystenian said. “Can’t you feel it? I knew this was a fae spell.”

  I frowned, disappointed that he hadn’t kissed me. “Uh, what?” An odd tickle caressed my skin, but I hadn’t taken it for “mischief.”

  Cystenian made no effort to leave despite his words. He did lean closer and brushed my chin with his fingertips.

  His movements were slow.

  I closed my eyes, anticipating. I wanted an angel’s kiss.

  “No,” he said, his lips right at my mouth. “I will act under my own volition.”

  “Okay…” My cheeks burned. “I didn’t mean…”

  He grabbed my hand, and we splashed through the stream.

  “Wait! Where are we going?” I stumbled, but he caught me. “Ow, frick. The rocks.”

  “I’m sorry. We can’t stay here. It’s dangerous.”

  “More dangerous than a sprained ankle?”

  He whirled around to face me. “You’re worried about a sprained ankle?”

  “Yes?”

  Cystenian shook his head and mumbled to himself. Without my consent, he tugged me forward.

  Though I was breathless and slipping over slimy rocks, I’d let him lead me anywhere. I didn’t care. This was the most amazing dream. Who cares if we hadn’t kissed, as long as I had this dream hunk.

  I am delusional.

  I looked at my cotton cami. I wore it during yoga sometimes because it was loose and made me feel like a genuine yogi. My boy shorts were my typical nighttime attire. No one saw me in them except Mom.

  And now Cystenian.

  I should have been embarrassed, but I’d wake up soon. I was going to enjoy this adventure. Then I’d tell Mom all about it. She’d call it a fairy tale.

  This was a fairy tale!

  I giggled.

  That brought Cystenian up short. He was losing his cool. “Haven’t you heard stories of fae before?” He glared at me before helping me over a fallen tree. His hand was warm, but he had lost his glow. “Evil, mischievous imps. They play tricks on people and leave them forever altered.”

  “Yeess.” I wasn’t sure where he was going with his thoughts.

  I tripped over another stone, but Cystenian swung me up into his arms before I face-planted into the stream. He moved through the water carefully, as though I were as light as a feather. I draped my arm around his neck but resisted the urge to lean my head against his shoulder.

  “How do I know you’re not a fae?” I asked. “You might be leading me to my doom right now, and I seem to be letting you.”

  “That’s their trick. I told you—our minds are clear, but our bodies are moving against our better judgment.”

  “You’re moving on your own accord.”

  He stopped and set me in the stream. “My grander movements, yes. I’m fighting for control, but I feel an impulse to do this.” His hands flinched backward, as if he tried for control, but then he touched my face, slipping his hands along my jaw.

  His lips came down on mine, but not with the crushing force I half expected.

  The kiss was delicate.

  I smiled inside. I hadn’t woken up.

  I applied pressure, desperately wanting to relish the kiss.

  This was so much better than Allen Davis’s surprise kiss behind the concession stand last year.

  Cystenian’s mouth twitched beneath mine, and he pulled away. “A curse on them! Anerah, can’t you see what they’re doing?”

  “Uh…”

  “Fight them with me. Don’t let me do that again.”

  I released a held breath. “Who are you, Cystenian? First you fall with me out of the sky as you glow like a blazing demon. Your eyes are the most brilliant green I have ever seen, hinting that you’re something not of this world. And your skin was glowing.”

  I wasn’t naïve. I’d read enough books. Fantasy—stories of fairies, dragons, elves, princes, and imagined creatures of every make. But this Cystenian, I was not familiar with. Perhaps he was the very fae he spoke of. Tales of the mystical good folk popped into my head. I’d just read a novel about them. Fairies with hair like flaming fires.

  Or flaming dragon wings.

  I wasn’t dead or dreaming. I was being taken into an otherworldly realm by a fae!

  Cystenian turned away, pulled on his hair, and then clenched his fists as he turned back with a vexed expression. “You really don’t know, do you? Look at me, Anerah!”

  “I am looking at you!” I couldn’t not look.

  He put a hand over my heart, and he lifted mine to his. “Didn’t you hear me before? I am no fae, and neither are you. I don’t know how I found you, but I did, Daughter of Light.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You are just as much a Daughter of Light as I am a Son of Light. We are from the same world, and this one is not it.”

  THREE

  I blinked up at Cystenian and laughed. He almost had me convinced, but everything that had happened was all too far-fetched. “I change my mind. I’m still dreaming. I’ll never believe this is reality, Son of Light, but my brain is willing to accept that this adventure is a dream.”

  Cystenian growled, jerked my arm, and, at a bend in the stream, dragged me to a boulder that was larger than I was. “I entered your world here.” He pointed to the rock. “I don’t know what possessed me to cross realms. I didn’t know this entrance even existed.”

  Realms? Entrances? “That is a boulder.” My hand squeezed Cystenian’s. I had the sudden desire to throw myself into his arms, to touch every inch of his skin, to confe
ss my undying love for him.

  This is insane.

  I am insane.

  I pulled away until my arm was straight, but I couldn’t make myself let go of his hand. He was so delicious, and his accent was making me blush from head to toe.

  Cystenian pumped my hand but did not drop it. “Fight. I know what you’re feeling. Don’t give in.” He tugged on me. “Come with me to my realm. We should be safe there. The fae do not dwell on Emira.”

  How could he possibly know what I was feeling?

  I would bear his children if he asked.

  Whoa. That thought came out of nowhere. “So this situation is my fault? You came to Earth, where we have fae, apparently, which I knew absolutely nothing about, and now you want to flee and take me with you?”

  “Don’t delay. Please, Anerah. My skin prickles from your very touch. I fear what might happen.”

  “You’re skin prickles? Is that a bad thing? Am I so disgusting to you?”

  His eyes blazed with light, and I flinched. “You have no idea what they’re trying to do!”

  I yanked his arm, and his balance was thrown briefly. “Why don’t you tell me?”

  “There’s no time. If you don’t come with me, I shall leave you to fend them off yourself, and I really don’t want to do that.”

  “Through the boulder?”

  “Yes.” His hand grew hot. “Anerah!” His voice was pained and urgent. “Don’t you feel the same unbearable urge I am?”

  Umm, the urge to melt myself into him?

  I tilted my head toward the sky, pondering, lengthening out Cystenian’s anguish. The stars were beautiful. The night air was warm and slightly humid. An unusual peace sifted through me—one I hadn’t felt before.

  Yes, I’d had a prior desire to throw myself into Cystenian’s arms, but it had gone as soon as I focused on something else. I felt mostly in control. I held presence of mind. I am Anerah, lost wood girl who fled from my house for some unknown reason. My mind had full consciousness.

  I doubted it would last long. Even if I was slightly concerned whether I was dead or alive, asleep or awake, I knew who I was—that quiet, shy girl everyone walked all over her, at least in my other waking world.

  But here? I had kissed a fae!

  I had moved while in thought. During my victory over my mental control and awareness, I’d flung my arms around Cystenian’s neck. I wasn’t as victorious as I thought. My body pressed desperately to his. I could not make myself touch enough of him.

  Cystenian kissed my jaw, below my ear, sending hot lava into my scalp. Before I could become too used to his heatstroke-inducing lips, he tore himself away. “Enough!”

  Humiliated, I winced.

  “I told you!” He jerked my arm rather hard, though it couldn’t have been intentional. He touched the rock, and his hand passed right through it.

  I gasped.

  This was happening.

  His body followed, and I moved with him.

  Grayness enveloped my vision. The inside of the rock? Was I seeing the inside of the rock? This was madness. Nothing touched my skin. I felt weightless. My feet didn’t seem to move, but I know they had to have been. The feeling lasted a couple of seconds—

  Then there was light.

  I blinked.

  Was it morning?

  Birds sang in a bush nearby. The gurgling water from the stream was gone. Cystenian and I were in a tiny clearing. A boulder, just like the one we’d passed through, sat behind us.

  Cystenian looked at the sun and then at a shadow cast by a slender sapling. “Only a short time has passed. It appears to be the same as when I left. Same singing birds and shining day. At least I can only hope.”

  I looked at him as if he had two-and-a-half heads. I didn’t fail to notice our hands still linked. “Only a short time? It was night.”

  “Our worlds do not run on the same time. I don’t think they are even in the same galaxy.”

  I bugged my eyes at him.

  “What?” He dropped my hand.

  I didn’t like the absence of his touch. I felt cold. “This seems so normal to you.”

  “It’s not. I assure you. Our people just have more knowledge, I dare say. A greater grasp on other worlds.”

  Other worlds? I am so not on Earth anymore.

  Cystenian turned to me. “There, do you feel in control?” He bent his legs as if to assure himself and laughed before spinning around. “That was intense!” He grabbed my hands and spun me. “I can hardly express how relieved I am. A heavy weight has rolled off my shoulders. I feel stupidly giddy.”

  True, I felt the same. After that instant of nothingness, I felt carefree. I laughed as we twirled.

  Cystenian pulled me into a hug. “This is of my own free will.” His hand touched the back of my head and stroked my auburn hair. He pulled away and appraised me. Like a gentleman in a Jane Austen novel, despite his bare feet, he took another step back and bowed. “Welcome, Lady Anerah, to Emira.”

  “Should I curtsy? I’m not sure what you expect.”

  “Actually”—Cystenian moved closer—“this is how we greet intimates in my world, and after that affair, we are more than mere acquaintances.” He held my cheeks with both his hands. “Here, bring your hands to my face.”

  He lifted my hands and pressed them to his cheeks. Then he touched his forehead to mine. We held this pose for three of my heartbeats, in which I inwardly screamed with tension and exhilaration and edginess. I was sure I had nervous sweat from the anxiety.

  Heat from his forehead, and several other sentiments, swelled inside me—happiness, peace, elation. Were these emotions coming from Cystenian?

  We parted respectably, although I felt overwhelmed from all that had happened, how close we’d been, and how breathless I felt.

  Breathless.

  I was breathless.

  “Your wonderment is correct,” Cystenian said. “We exchanged feelings. Touch communicates these things, which is why we greet our loved ones this way. Don’t walk up to just anyone and do that.”

  “What do my feelings tell you?” That I was lost in how dreamy he was? That I equated him to a god? That I longed to sink my fingers into his golden curls? I felt utterly moronic, but what else did I have to lose? Definitely not my dignity. I’d left that by the stream when I threw myself into his arms.

  Cystenian winked. “Don’t be embarrassed. I share the same memories. I can’t deny the experience we had together, but it was magic, a spell.”

  “It was so realistic. How could that have been magic?” I was crushed that none of our feelings were real, but who had such intimate encounters with people they’d just met?

  “Fae magic is not to be trifled with. You did well. You fought it off for a long time.”

  He turned to the rock. “What to do about this gateway? A rift such as this is dangerous. It needs to be closed, but I’m not sure how. I’ll have to consult with my parents.”

  “Hold on. Are you intending to keep me here? I need to go home. My mother—she’ll be wondering about me.”

  “Anerah.” He was very serious and looked at me as if he peered over a pair of spectacles. “You belong in this realm—this world. Not that other world. I don’t know how you came to be there, but it’s obvious you carry the gift of light. Look at my heart. You saw the glow. Look at yours.”

  My arms shimmered. Okay, how’d I miss this? I moved into the shade of a tree. I was seriously glowing. Like a glow bug. “When did this happen?”

  Cystenian cleared his throat. “Right after you flung yourself at me.” He laughed.

  Mortified. I had a feeling I was turning red.

  “It was endearing. I didn’t mind. Really.”

  “I don’t understand. What does it mean?” Embarrassment washed over me. I think I knew darn well what my glow meant, even if I didn’t have any clue how it worked.

  I was attracted to my angel, fae magic or not.

  “I’m an emrys, my dear,” he said, “and you are clearly
part emrys.”

  “That doesn’t make sense.” I took a few steps toward the boulder. “I really do think I should go home.”

  The name emrys was familiar. In stories from my world, that was another name for a well-known wizard during King Arthur’s time.

  I was no wizard.

  “Come with me up to the estate.” He grabbed my hand, but paused, and it fell from his grip. “Sorry, am I being too bold?”

  I rolled my eyes. Next he’d tell me he was a prince, an angel-like prince with golden curls, emerald eyes, and uh… “No sword, no shoes, no horse? How’d you get here?”

  He looked around. “I guess I walked. Maybe sleep walked? I don’t understand.” He gestured to his clothes. “This is what I went to bed in. I don’t usually sleep late, and it’s morning, so I should be dressed for the day. I vaguely remember this meadow before going through the boulder, as if from a dream. But had I walked here, someone would have seen me and stopped me. I can’t go anywhere without my mother or sister knowing where I am.”

  This was nutso. If I’d actually gone into an otherworldly realm, I might end up trapped. And for who knows how long. The good folk that I’d read about kept people for almost a complete lifetime, only to release them home when they were old and frail. I certainly didn’t want to meet the same fate. At the same time, this entire thing was ridiculous. Was I actually going to believe what had happened? I’m pretty sure I was seriously flying after jumping off the cliff. I know I had hawk wings. “Please explain how this is happening.”

  “Which part? I don’t know much of it myself. What was new to me was traveling through that portal and then finding myself flying with wings.”

  “That was new to you?” My heart jumped. If this was new to me and new to Cystenian, then what else would happen?

  “Emrys don’t sprout wings from our backs. And we can’t fly without a dragon.”

  Right. Dragon. Of course there would be dragons. I rubbed my forehead. “But we were flying.” I had flown! Seriously. How amazing was that? I paced around, staring at the boulder, at the beautiful butter-yellow and violet flowers in the meadow, at the trees with bark so deep of a brown they almost looked purple. I had never seen any of this plant-life before.

 

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