The Cursed (The Cursed Trilogy Book 1)

by Iyanna Orr

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  Copyright © 2017 by IyannaOrr

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  The Cursed Trilogy

  The Cursed

  By: Iyanna Orr

  ISBN: 978-1-68030-750-4

  ©IyannaOrr2017

  Table of contents

  Preface

  Chapter 1 – Worse

  Chapter 2 – Monster

  Chapter 3 – Rescued

  Chapter 4 – Attacked

  Chapter 5 – Remember

  Chapter 6 – Monsil

  Chapter 7 – Power

  Chapter 8 – Taken

  Chapter 9 – Haakon

  Chapter 10 – Tournament

  Chapter 11 – Changed

  Chapter 12 – Rockbryr

  Chapter 13 – Swords

  Chapter 14 – Mountainmen

  Chapter 15 – Angel

  Chapter 16 – Arrival

  Chapter 17 – Memories

  Chapter 18 – Gone

  For anyone who read the original drafts.

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  Preface

  It was nearly midnight. The streets were empty except for the occasional car going by. The warm rain of the evening had continued into the night, turning into icy drops that pattered against the pavement. The water gathered in the street, where blocked gutters released trash and debris that floated lazily along. Flooded streets ran on as steady red lights from above turned it all into a river of blood.

  A restaurant sat thirty feet away from the burning traffic light. The darkness in front of the glass windows was chased away by the lights coming from inside. Beyond the doors, with a sign already flipped to “closed,” a man and woman sat together. At the table, the man was laughing, his voice pitched low to match the reserved feeling of the restaurant. The woman gazed back at him, her eyes lighting up as the sound reached her ears. He continued speaking quietly as the woman’s arms encircled her extending abdomen, her eyes going unfocused. For the moment, it was as if she couldn’t hear him speaking to her, lost in some place he couldn’t see. She sighed, and the man quieted.

  “He’s coming any day now, Peter,” she said, her voice even lower than his had been. She shook her head slightly, a smile pulling up the corners of her lips. He laughed again, but this time, it filled the empty restaurant. As distant as her eyes were, Peter could still see the adoration in them.

  “It could also be because your doctor said to expect him next week,” he suggested, his smile lingering and growing wider as she rolled her eyes at him.

  “I’m a mother,” she chastised lightly. “Don’t be such a spoil sport.” She reached across the table and took his hand in hers, running her thumb over his wedding band. Peter looked up from where their hands met to watch her. Her eyes were intent on the ring on his finger, but her face was relaxed and open. Seeing that tranquility there, he was taken back to the days when she was always tense; looking over her shoulders. Her high school years and even her years before that hadn’t been pleasant, and he’d done all he could to wipe that offending misery from her eyes. He remembered all the crazy things he’d done just to take her attention from whatever was bothering her; to see her smile. Even though he’d ended up in detention more times than not, he didn’t regret loving Elizabeth.

  Looking back to their joined hands, Peter brought his other to cover hers. It was small and dainty in his grasp, but the smooth skin his fingers traveled over was familiar and wonderful. Elizabeth raised her eyes to him, remembering how early it had been when she was woken by her husband.

  Her eyes opened to see him kneeling beside the bed, much like it had been three years ago when she found not only her husband but her engagement ring as well. That morning, she enjoyed the feeling of his fingers running lightly over her hair and whispered a good morning. She hadn’t been sure what to make of the expression he wore. Still, she raised her hands to massage away the lines between his brows and then to rest it against his cheek.

  “We’re going to be parents soon,” he said quietly to her. “We’ve waited for this a long time.” He grew quiet as he watched her, and she mulled over the words silently, feeling something pleasant bloom in her center. Unconsciously, her other arm came to rest on her stomach, holding on to the life inside her. “We’ve wanted this for a long time,” he continued, eyes coming from the distance to gaze into hers. “There’s something I wanted to tell you since I met you.”

  “What is it?” Elizabeth asked, attempting to rise. Peter stopped her with a small smile before he leaned in to press his lips to her head. He stayed that way for a short while, the silence stretching while her mind wandered. Elizabeth believed she knew everything about her husband that she needed to know and she put her trust in that. Whatever he wanted to tell her wouldn’t destroy them, not when they had everything they wanted and needed. As if he was reading her mind, he leaned back, and his smile shifted, becoming more genuine.

  “It’s nothing that can’t wait,” he conceded.

  “Are you sure?” she asked.

  “I am. Get some rest.” He stood, beginning to turn to the door. At the last second, he turned back, leaning against the doorjamb. “I’ll be late tonight, but I’m going to take you out.”

  “Ellie,” his voice reached her, and she pulled herself from the past to see the amused smile on his lips. “Are you here now?” he questioned.

  “Yes,” she answered with a breathless laugh. She shook her head, and the smile slowly went away. A feeling had started in her gut; a feeling she hadn’t had since she was in high school. It confused her because no situation with Peter had ever felt like this before. He used to be the one who chased it away. “What were you going to tell me this mo
rning?”

  Elizabeth hadn’t taken her eyes off the table, so she didn’t see how Peter straightened in his seat, eyes automatically darting for the front window of the restaurant. The hand holding hers went still, and that made the woman across from him finally look up, curiosity spilling over. It wasn’t until she met his eyes and saw what was in them that a feeling, a terrible feeling, came over her completely and kept her pinned in her seat. There was uneasiness in him, but it was the naked fear in his eyes that made her realize he was afraid. Of what, she wasn’t sure, but it was pressing on her mind. Releasing his hand, she raised his head, which had gone to studying the table in front of him. Elizabeth held his jaw between her fingers so he would look at her. “What’s wrong, Peter?”

  “It’s just an old story,” he ground out finally when she refused to release him. The fear was still there, but other nameless emotions created a repeating track in his eyes. Elizabeth felt the ripple of Peter’s throat as he swallowed. “My father would tell it to me when I was just a kid. I’m not even sure what he said was the truth because it didn’t sound possible.” His eyes flickered around the restaurant and stopped for a long second before moving on. Elizabeth turned to see what he’d seen, and she met the eyes of their waiter, a sixteen-year-old boy that lived next door to them, but they knew little about.

  “Let’s go,” she said. “It’s late. We can finish this at home.”

  She released him and began to stand, but a sharp pain left her to fall back into her chair, a moan working its way through her lips. Peter stood abruptly, coming around the table to kneel beside her.

  “Ellie? Ellie, are you all right?” Peter watched with rapt attention as she shook her head. He looked around quickly and then raised his hand to rest against her cheek softly. Before he stood and wheeled for the door, he pressed his lips to her head, their conversation forgotten. Elizabeth nodded even after he was gone, curling in on herself as she wrapped her arms around her stomach. An ache began slowly as her baby kicked relentlessly inside her.

  When she managed to sit up straight, sweat ran down her face, leaving behind tracks of moisture through her make-up. From where she was sitting, she could see the restaurant windows and the puddle streets beyond. Her reflection stared back at her, blurred and nondescript, but her hunched shoulders were tense. Her eyes pivoted, taking in the rest of the room and freezing when she saw the figures sitting at a booth that had been empty the entire night. Her pain swam, sliding through barriers and walls she’d erected to keep herself calm. Her eyes lingered for a long moment on the dark booth, attempting to see past it and to the people who’d managed to sneak inside. Just when she thought she could make out movement, another sharp pain laced through her, and in the second before her eyes slipped closed, she thought she saw eyes staring back at her.

  Once the pain had gone, she kept her head down and her eyes closed. She was afraid to open them again; afraid to see if those people were still there. Elizabeth knew for certain that no one else should have been in the restaurant, let alone sitting in a dark corner, spying on her. More than that, she was afraid to see if they weren’t there. She wasn’t a superstitious woman; she had never been, but it was her mother, raving and leaving her with a miserable childhood she hadn’t been able to escape until Peter Dixon moved to town. Her childhood had been filled with omens and left the world around her murky. All she’d wanted to do was close her eyes and fall asleep just so she could wake up to a clearer day. Her mother had continuously yelled and screamed, wanting someone, anyone, to see the things she saw; the things that hid in every dark corner of the house she’d grown up in. Her mother had gone insane worrying and fearing everything and everyone. She slept little and ate even less. Elizabeth had known that she wanted more than omens and superstitions.

  Elizabeth gave a startled shriek when she felt a light touch on her shoulder. Her ears rang as her eyes snapped open and she spotted the waiter, his face flushed and stuttering apologies in between hurried inquiries as to her health.

  “I’m okay,” she told him, and his worry calmed. From her seat, she spotted Peter pulling the car to a stop outside. The rain was still coming down, and he ducked his head as he ran inside. Turning to look at the waiter, who still stood by, shifting his feet, Peter gave him an appreciative glance. He handed him the money to pay for their dinner before leaning down to help Elizabeth to her feet. Her face was pale behind what was left of her make-up, and when he placed a hand against her head, he felt how chilled her skin had become. With a worried breath, he began leading her to the door. At the last second, he turned to make sure they hadn’t forgotten anything and froze. Towering over the worried waiter was a man; a familiar man. Peter had hoped that he’d never have to see him again. At the look on this man’s face, Peter just wanted to wake up; to escape from the nightmare that had haunted his childhood years. But it wasn’t going away.

  Elizabeth’s groan was what gave him the strength he needed to turn away. He turned back to her, leading her through the doors of the restaurant a little faster. As they exited the door, he stopped to pick her up before hurrying back to the idling car. Still, Peter could feel those dark, immoral eyes burning into his mind as they got into the car and drove to the hospital.

  Chapter 1 – Worse

  Chandler had no idea where he was or how he came to be there. His breaths came slowly as he ran through the trees, ducking and dodging branches suddenly careening into view. He felt as if he’d been running for hours, but he wasn’t tired. He knew that there was something he was looking for. He didn’t know what, but desperation had taken hold of him a far way back on his path. He couldn’t shake it no matter how hard he tried. His body trembled as he thought of being caught and taken, but his footfalls were steady, and his mind focused. As he ran, his head swiveled back and forth, examining the trunks of the trees closely.

  Whatever was chasing him was gaining ground, and he was running out of time. He was cornered. No matter how large the forest might be, there was no escaping the thing coming after him. Chandler was a pawn in its game, and it knew it far better than he did. But Chandler was sure that what he was looking for would change all that. The roles would reverse, and he would no longer be a pawn. He would have the queen to his king, but to do that, he needed to get to it before it was too late. So, he didn’t fight as his instincts kicked in, wings quivering on his back. They heaved against his white t-shirt, still miraculously clean, and he heard the hissing sounds of the fabric stretching and tearing. Instead of wasting time, he brought the shirt over his head and threw it aside. With the momentum he’d built running, he tossed himself against the nearest tree, vaulting off into the air.

  Chandler grunted as his wings whipped against the wind. The gusts were harsh and heavy; trying to push him back and halt his progress. But he knew that he had to fight. His wings brushed through the air as he realized that all of nature was against him.

  A sharp screech from above made him look up, eyes briskly finding the large bird bearing down on him. Its claws were outstretched, beak opened emitting the chilling noise. Chandler lowered his head again and gritted his teeth in concentration. He jolted himself forward, speed picking up and the dark bird’s screech becoming faint. He held back a curse as the whisper of a touch brushed his wings. The feeling came again, and he flew harder, wings brushing the trunks of the trees he narrowly avoided flying into. Then, just as quickly, the screeching of the bird was back again, and claws were entering the fragile skin that protected the vulnerable bones of his wings. Shoving the pain away as quickly as it’d come, he flipped, forcing the bird to release its hold. Flying upside down unsteadily, a fist was thrust up, intending to remove the offending animal, but Chandler’s fist went right through it. The sounds coming from the predatory bird were flustering his mind and nothing made sense for a long moment. As he raised his hands to cover his ears from the sound, the bird exploded in a spray of black dust.

  Chandler flipped around and fanned his wings against the offending wind. He rose
further into the air, the trees falling below and stretching beneath him like a field of grass. It seemed as if it stretched forever, but he knew that the trees had to end somewhere. They were parallel, similar in every way, to the tangle of his life and it had to end. He needed to look before he could make the change. Breathing deeply, he slowed his progress and examined the trees just below him. He couldn’t just run away anymore; searching was important, and he couldn’t let them chase him away.

  An arrow whizzed by him, and his wings instinctively whipped to the side, preparing for battle in the sky. They battled the winds that wrestled for control, but the attacked hadn’t come from above. Slowing quickly, Chandler looked down and through the trees at the thing that had been following him; the thing that managed to sway the very nature of the universe to its whims. In his very being, Chandler felt the betrayal and his teeth lengthened, pressing against the inside of his mouth. He pulled his lips back and growls rumbled in his throat as light suddenly blazed from the direction of his adversary. Raising his arm to cover his eyes, he tried to see through the brilliance and to the obstacle standing as a sentinel before his victory. But the light was overly bright; too strong and his mouth loosed a roar, shaking the very air around him. Squeezing his eyes closed, Chandler allowed the light to consume him.

  Chandler blinked against the light suffusing his room. Across from him, the sun was staring directly through the pane and into his face. He glared at the offending curtain tied to the side because he knew that he’d closed the thing the night before for this very reason. He’d been living there with his mom for years, and he knew when the sun would come streaming into his window. The light was becoming more bearable as his eyes adjusted to the new morning, but his clearing vision revealed nothing to be hiding in it. He couldn’t help but feel as if something should have been there.