by Ivy Asher
The Avowed
Ivy Asher
Copyright © 2020 Ivy Asher
All rights reserved. This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission of the author, except in cases of a reviewer quoting brief passages in a review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Edited by Polished Perfection
Cover Design by Nichole Witholder at Rainy Day Artwork
For Sunny…you know why, winky face and chumus.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Thank you so much for reading!!!
Also by Ivy Asher
About the Author
Prologue
Warning growls and screeches reach out from behind us, making it clear that Pigeon and I are being hunted. We zip through the sky, but I can feel on the wind that one of our pursuers is gaining on the left. We veer to the right to avoid contact for as long as possible. The evasive maneuver seems to work, and Pigeon and I maintain our lead and continue to search for something that helps us get these fuckers off our tail. We round a mountain, and the bright flash of sun on water beams up at us. It’s momentarily blinding and keeps us from seeing the webbed mass that comes shooting up into the sky until it’s almost on us.
Pigeon shrieks and barely avoids the net, and I realize too late that we weren’t outmaneuvering the gryphons chasing us, we were letting ourselves be herded by them. Fuck! Another net comes screaming up into the sky, and by some miracle, Pigeon does this crazy tuck roll thing that keeps us out of its clutches. But as we recover from the epic dodge we just executed, a third net comes speeding for us, and this one hits its mark.
The net slams into us and wraps around us like a snake does its prey. Pigeon can’t extend her wings to catch the current, and we start to fall out of the sky, careening toward the water. We’re spinning as we fall, and the torque of it leaves me completely disoriented. One second I’m staring at the sky, the next I can spot the water we’re about to crash into any minute now. We’re rolling with such force that it steals all ability to make any sounds, and we can’t even scream as the water’s surface looms even closer, bringing with it promises of pain.
Pigeon and I crash into the water, and it hurts almost as much as when Zeph the sky shadow smashed us into the ground. The heavy net surrounding us immediately pulls us further down, and I feel the terror and panic that surge through Pigeon as we’re dragged against our will toward the bottom. I yank on the tether that connects us, demanding Pigeon’s attention, and try to pull her back into me. The squares of the net that’s doing its best to drown us look big enough for me to try and fit through, but I have to get Pigeon to relinquish control so we can shift and I can try to get out.
I slam against her a couple times, and it finally gets her attention. She quickly hands me the reins, and we shift back into me. I work to untangle the dense net from around me, and I lose the bag that was strapped to my chest. The map flashes in my mind as the bag sinks out of reach, but losing the map will be the least of our problems if I can’t get us out of the net. I’m just small enough to wiggle my way out through the mesh of the dense rope. I kick frantically for the surface of the water, my lungs burning and my head starting to swim with black spots.
I barely break out of the water before I gasp, breathing in air and water at the same time. I cough violently trying to purge my lungs of the lake I just aspirated. Strong arms pluck me from the rippling depths, but there’s nothing I can do to free myself from my captor as I work to clear my lungs of water and fill them with air instead. I’m flown to the bank of the lake, and I continue to cough and try to take in my surroundings. I can tell by how Pigeon has receded inside of me that she’s hurt, and I know that saving our ass is just up to me now.
I’m set gently on the sand of the shore, and I immediately reach back with my left hand and grab the junk of whoever is holding me. As expected, he drops his hold and reaches down to protect himself. This gives me the perfect opportunity to whirl around and punch him in the throat with my other hand. I’m up and sprinting away as he collapses in on himself, and I send up a silent thank you to Sutton and his training.
A massive gryphon slams down into the sand in front of me, and I shriek in surprise. I try to change directions, but another gryphon cuts me off. I stop and spin, looking for a way out, but I’m cut off by gryphons at every angle. A couple of them shift out of their gryphon form, and I take that moment to charge the smallest gryphon of the group. He snaps at me, which is exactly what I hoped for. I dodge his hooked beak, just barely, and land a punch to the side of his head.
I scream through clenched teeth as fire shoots up my hand into my arm. I feel like I just punched a fucking boulder. I lose the momentum of the attack as pain vibrates up my arm, and before the gryphon I assaulted can move to tear me apart, someone is pulling me away from him.
My arm is throbbing, but I unleash all of the fight left in me as I try to get out of the grasp of whoever is holding on to me.
“Caught a live one, didn’t we now,” an amused voice announces. Chuckles sound off around me, and I struggle even harder to break free.
“Go tell the commander we caught something interesting,” the same guy orders, and the gryphon to my right pumps its wings and flies away.
“Highborn from the looks of it. Is she marked?” another voice asks, and I’m immediately shoved forward.
I’m bent over at the waist, completely naked thanks to the sudden shift into Pigeon earlier. Whoever is holding me is also naked, and I feel his limp dick skim my ass and start to grow firmer. I release a warning growl that goes ignored as someone brushes hair from the back of my neck and checks the skin there.
“No mark,” the first voice declares, and I’m pulled back up. I’m brought face to face with another naked massive shifter who has long straight black hair, blue eyes, and a dimple in his clean shaven chin. He brushes the white strands of my damp hair out of my face, and his eyes light up with interest as he takes me in.
I snarl at him, but this only seems to amuse him. The guy holding me tries to stop my continued struggling to get out of his hold, and I wince when he yanks on my hurt hand. Note to self, if we survive this, never punch a shifted gryphon in the face again. The blue-eyed guy in front of me doesn’t miss my pained response, and he reaches out and grabs my chin in an effort to make me go still.
“You’ll just hurt yourself worse if you keep that up, flower,” he chides, his eyes locked on mine.
I’m still not sure if staring contests with gryphons hold the same weight as they do with wolves, but I fix my lavender gaze on him and refuse to look away. I stop struggling, the fight slowly leaving my body, and the absence of it invites shock and exhaustion to flood me.
“That’s a girl,” he tells me, the firm grip he has on my chin softening ever so slightly, but he doesn’t let go. “Now what’s a pretty purple flower like yourself doing way
out here?”
His bright blue eyes run over my features like he’s searching for answers, and I internally cheer as he’s the first to break eye contact with me.
“You don’t look like a rebel,” he observes, picking up a strand of my hair. “And yet you bear no mark.”
I debate the best way to handle this situation. My initial instinct is to stay quiet, but as I subtly pull in a deep inhale of the blue-eyed shifter in front of me, it confirms my suspicions. He has the windy lilac scent of a gryphon, but that same hint of citrus that the hunters that captured me and Zeph in the woods had. I thought maybe it was because those gryphons were related somehow, but now I’m realizing that the citrus smell might be what the vow does to a gryphon’s scent.
These shifters are the Avowed, and maybe, just maybe, the truth of how I got here will work on them like it did with the Hidden. I stare into the curious blue eyes of the shifter in front of me and hope they don’t have an Ami that will see the parts of my story that I’m hiding. I’ll just have to deal with that later if it happens.
“My name is Falon Solei Umbra,” I offer. I take a second to look around at the strange gryphons surrounding me and let fear and confusion leak into my eyes. “I woke up in this strange place a couple of days ago, and I’ve been trying to figure out how to get back home ever since.”
“And where’s home, flower?” Blue Eyes asks me, concern leaking out of his tone, but it does little to mask the cunning glint in his eyes.
“Colorado.”
A large tan gryphon slams down onto the sand on my right, and the force with which he lands sends vibrations through the ground up into my legs. His arrival pulls my thoughts away from the plausible cover story I’m trying to pull from my ass. This must be the commander that Blue Eyes requested. That thought turns to ash in my mouth as another massive, well-muscled shifter touches down gracefully on the bank just behind Blue Eyes. Large gray and white wings give a quick flap and are then quickly folded back, giving me a clear line of sight at a familiar face. My eyes go wide with shock and then quickly narrow with stupefied confusion.
What the fuck is Ryn doing here, and why does he smell different?
1
“Well, well, well, what do we have here, soldier?” Ryn asks, and the other gryphon shifter with the blue eyes and chin dimple chuckles.
My gaze snaps from Ryn for a second to take in the amusement that lights up the blue-eyed shifter’s eyes, but I don’t watch him long enough to gauge what that amusement means. I focus on Ryn as he steps closer to me, confusion warring with a warm feeling that moves through me. I expect Pigeon to wake up and flood me with some unwelcome feeling of desire or happiness, but she’s quiet. That alone has worry coursing through me as I search Ryn’s gray stare for some sign of recognition... There is none.
I’m tempted to ask what the fuck is going on, but thankfully, I still have some sense intact. If this is Ryn—and not some evil twin he forgot to mention—my announcing that I know him isn’t going to go over well for either one of us. Instead, I activate damsel mode. I shy away from Ryn’s large form like I’m terrified of him. It’s not a hard stretch from how I’m actually feeling. I have no fucking clue what is going on or just what I’ve landed myself in the middle of.
I bump back against the large shifter who is still holding onto me from behind. All that does is remind me of the erection he has pressed into my back. I immediately arch as far away as I can from the unwelcome boner and lean toward the large black-haired, blue-eyed shifter in front of me. I don’t miss a flash of what I think is satisfaction in his bright blue gaze before he clears it and turns to answer Ryn’s question.
“I’m not quite sure yet, Commander,” he responds with a curious almost sarcastic inflection on the word commander. “This female ran from a patrol that spotted her flying east of here. She was netted and then fished from the water. She’s unmarked and has a lovely tale about how she’s not from here and is just trying to get home,” Blue Eyes finishes, a sly smile stretching across his full lips.
“Is that right? And where exactly is home?” Ryn asks, leveling me with his stormy gray gaze.
I watch as anger strikes through his eyes, quick as lightning, before giving way to a cool indifference. Shit. Maybe this is an evil twin, or maybe that look is because I’m here and not back in the Eyrie like he expects me to be. My nostrils flare as I try to scent him again now that he’s closer. It smells like Ryn, but not...and I have no fucking clue what that means.
“Some place called Colerdo,” Blue Eyes supplies when I don’t make any effort to answer mystery Ryn’s question.
The maroon Narwagh armor that mystery Ryn is wearing squeaks as he motions for the gryphon who’s holding me to move. My erection clad captor releases me and moves away. Ryn steps around me, and an odd sensation tingles through my body when his fingertip skims over my shoulder and slowly moves the hair away from the back of my neck. He’s armed to the teeth, which should probably set off some kind of alarm. Instead, I have to tamp down on the shiver that courses through my body, and I’m trying—and failing—to keep my nipples from morphing into diamonds, and goose bumps from rising in the wake of his touch.
“So we’re to believe that the Amaranthine Mountain spirits are gifting us with beautiful, highborn, unmarked females now?” Ryn asks, his featherlight caress moving from my neck and trailing suggestively down my spine.
Snickers sound off around me, and I work not to show how uncomfortable I am right now.
“All hail the Thais Fairies if that’s the case,” Blue Eyes announces, and more laughter bubbles up from the gryphon soldiers surrounding me.
“No wonder the rebel scum have been spotted more and more in this area. Who can blame them with such gifts wandering about?” someone out of sight comments, and Ryn is so close to me now that I can feel the laughter vibrating from his chest into my back.
Unease unfurls within me, and the jeering laughter all around me makes me want to run.
Mystery Ryn bends so that his lips are inches away from the shell of my ear. “Too bad, little sparrow, that I was always taught never to trust anything that seemed too good to be true,” he announces, and panic roars through me.
I’m not sure exactly what sets it off—maybe it’s the use of Zeph’s nickname for me or the thinly veiled threat he just mock whispered in my ear—but everything slows. Before I even know what I’m doing, I reach back and pull a dagger that’s strapped to Ryn’s side from its sheath. I surge forward and press the newly acquired blade to the throat of the massive blue-eyed and dimple-chinned gryphon shifter in front of me. The amusement quickly fades from his sparkly blue gaze, and I watch the shock seep in as I press my dagger into his corded neck.
Everyone around me freezes.
I look around, terrified as other shifters press closer, and I scream at them not to take another step closer.
“I don’t know who you are,” I shout out the half lie, my voice manic and brimming with genuine fear. “I just want to go home,” I beg, my hand shaking as I hold the dagger to Blue Eyes’ throat. He’ll probably snap me in half when this is done, but I have to risk it. My options are nonexistent. There’s nowhere to run; I’m surrounded.
“I’m going to find my way home, and if any of you try to stop me, this dimple-chinned motherfucker is going to die,” I threaten.
Blue Eyes’ gives an amused snort, and my eyes snap to his. “What the fuck do you find so funny?” I snarl, irritation swooping in to embrace my distress.
“I can see that you’re scared, flower, but you and I both know you’re not going to slit my throat,” he states evenly, the corners of his ample lips turning up into a confident smile.
The smirk’s presence pisses me off.
“If it will get me home and away from wherever the fuck I am, I will,” I challenge, pressing the blade harder against the warm skin of his throat.
His annoying smile widens, but something flashes in his eyes. His gaze morphs, and I can see and feel the gr
yphon in him staring back at me. The blue of his eyes flickers, like the connection is bad and they can’t settle on a color. I’m so hypnotized by it—and the heat that’s suddenly surging through me—that I don’t even fight when a huge tan muscled arm circles my neck from behind. I’m forcefully jerked back from the dimple-chinned asshole. The choke hold around my throat tightens as a fire blazes through my blood. I’m lifted off the ground, and the pressure on my throat increases to dangerous levels. I panic and scramble to find any kind of footing as I’m choked.
Surprise penetrates my hysteria when I bring my hands up to claw at the arm around my neck and I realize that I still have the dagger in my grip. I drop my arm, twist the blade, and then slam it as hard as I can into the torso of whoever is trying to kill me. A pain-filled roar rents the air all around me, and I shove the blade into someone up to the hilt. The pressure on my windpipe decreases slightly. I release my hold on the dagger and proceed to claw with both hands at the meaty arm around my neck and gasp for air.
“Pigeon!” I scream for all I’m worth. “Pigeon, please, I need you!”
Nothing.
Frustration and worry burn through me, but I don’t have time to focus on that. I need to get away! I snarl and scramble and do everything I can to free myself, but it’s no use. The shock of my stabbing has worn off, and the arm around my neck tightens. I can’t get enough oxygen into my lungs again, and terror is overriding every sensible thought in my head.
I don’t want to die!
“Looks like our little flower here is just full of surprises,” Blue Eyes says, and Ryn grunts behind me. “Ease up, Commander, I think you’re hurting her,” Blue Eyes warns when I stop making a gurgling whimper and go silent.
