Fated To Die: YA dark retelling (The Retelling Series Book 1)

by TARA GALLINA

  FATED TO DIE

  A romantic dark retelling

  Tara Gallina

  About the Book

  Fated To Die is a dark retelling of the Scottish Folktale, Bean Nighe aka The Washer Women. It’s part of my Retelling Series, which will include Club Neverland, an adult/young adult retelling loosely based on Peter Pan.

  Never in a million years did Preya believe she’d be chosen by the curse on her village. Outcasted for her appearance, Preya has never bothered trying to fit in. Friends, balls, and romance are for eligible maidens, not a pariah who spends her time caring for her family. But this year is different.

  Each Summer Solstice the Washer Woman enslaves a maiden of seventeen as her Messenger, a bearer of death to those who are Fated to Die. No maiden has ever survived her enslavement.

  If Preya is to be the first, she must submit and follow the rules set by the Keeper. The mysterious boy is tasked with her training and, at all times, cloaked from her sight. His strict, domineering methods clash with his warm voice and gentle touch.

  Preya doesn’t know how he’s connected to the curse, if he’s good or bad, human or monster, and why she’s drawn to him. When trusting him becomes her only chance at freedom, Preya discovers secrets about the Keeper and the past that change everything she thought she knew. Saving herself isn’t enough. She needs to break the curse, and she needs his help to do it.

  Other Romance Novels

  Enjoy college age romance? If so, head over to my website or to Amazon for my new adult contemporary serial romance The Forever Series.

  The Forever Series is a slow burn romance filled with drama, laugh-out-loud moments, and a touch of suspense.

  **The Forever Series contains adult language and content.

  Risking Forever: Vol 1

  Daring Forever: Vol 2

  Claiming Forever: Vol 3

  Sebastian – Risking Forever: Vol 4

  The Forever Series Four Book Collection

  Find the complete series here:

  https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07P6T68QC/?ie=UTF8&redirect=true&ref_=dbs_a_def_rwt_hsch_vapi_tkin_p1_i5

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  Free Read

  If you’d like to receive Sebastian – Risking Forever: Vol 4 for free, head over to my website and subscribe.

  The novel is a bonus version of Risking Forever: vol 1, written in the hero, Sebastian’s, point of view. Keep in mind, The Forever Series is new adult college romance with adult language and content.

  Click here: https://www.taragallina.com/

  His side of the story.

  Copyright

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author makes no claims to, but instead acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of any wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction including brands or products.

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Copyright © 2019 FATED TO DIE by Tara Gallina (2019-01-14). Fated to Die.

  FATED TO DIE

  Each Summer Solstice she will rise,

  From the depths of the river where she lies.

  For seven days and seven nights,

  She washes bloody clothes to her delight.

  One virgin maiden she will choose,

  To bear the curse and deliver the news.

  Poor souls of Isca you know not your doom,

  Until the Messenger girl is in your view.

  A garment of death in her hand,

  When you realize it’s yours, you’ve moments to stand.

  Make haste with goodbyes for you cannot deny,

  That you are the next who is Fated to Die.

  PROLOGUE

  In this room with the babies cooing, I can almost forget the horror going on in the village.

  It’s the pink flowers painted on the walls, and all the ruffles and bows on the curtains and bedding.

  Mother sits across from me in a floral-patterned chair that matches mine. One for each girl when she grows up.

  “Is it my turn to rock the cradle?” I ask.

  Mother draws her gaze from the half-open window, the night breeze carrying the scent of jasmine throughout the room. “What Preya, dear?”

  She yawns and brushes her long golden blond hair behind her shoulder. She’s spent the last six nights in here, protecting the babies from the curse.

  “I asked if it’s my turn to rock the twins.” I meet her mismatched colored eyes, one green and one blue, like mine.

  “Oh, yes. Go ahead, unless you’re tired and would rather sleep. Your bed is more comfortable than these chairs.”

  “I’m fine.” How could I sleep on the last night of the curse? The last night someone else could die. Tomorrow will be better. We’ll have almost a year until the Hag returns next Summer.

  I often wish I were older than ten so I can do more around the manor than I’m allowed, but this week I’m thankful for my youthful age. In seven years, if I’m not married, I could be chosen and doomed. I shiver at the thought and take over rocking the cradle.

  Mother’s gaze returns to the window, her head resting on the back of the chair.

  I focus on the babies as I gently rock them to sleep. Carys is on the left and Calyssa on the right, both of them swaddled in pink blankets.

  A knock sounds from downstairs.

  Mother blinks and glances toward the hallway.

  “Is that the door?” I jump up. “Shall I answer it?”

  Father appears in the doorway, his handsome face as white as a ghost. “Ivory?” he says to Mother in a grave voice.

  She shoots to her feet and shakes her head, fear widening her once sleepy eyes.

  Father’s gaze shifts from Mother, to me, to the babies, and back to Mother. I’ve never seen him look so frightened or lost.

  The knocking sounds again, harder this time, like the pounding of a drum. It vibrates through me, shaking my bones with each thump.

  No one visits us at night. No one visits us at all, except for the Council and Grandmother. Our land is too far from the village and our family isn’t exactly the town’s favorite.

  A chill falls over the room. I quiver. “Mother?”

  “Wait for me downstairs,” she says to Father. “We'll answer it together.”

  He shakes his head, looking desperate, like he wants to scoop us up and run away. To where, I don’t know. The woods? Any farther and we’d be stopped by the mystical barrier caging in the village from the rest of the world.

  “What's going on?” I ask, the answer at the back of my mind, but fear won’t allow me to draw it forth.

  Mother takes my hands and cradles them in hers. She pins me with an urgent stare. “Stay with your sisters and do not leave this room. No matter what you hear, promise me you will not leave this room or your sisters. They need you.” She caresses my cheek, kisses it. “Do you promise?” she asks, horror etched on her beautiful face.

  “I promise,” I force out, wanting to shut the bedroom door and lock us inside—all of us. But Father no longer stands in the doorway. Is he downstairs, waiting for Mother like she asked? I didn't even hear him leave.

  One of the twins starts crying. It's Carys and it's not her hungry cry. This is a hig
her pitch. Perhaps the banging on the door frightened her.

  Mother leans into the cradle and kisses her cheek. “I love you, sweet baby,” she whispers and Carys quiets.

  Calyssa's eyes open and she stares at Mother. “I love you, too, little one. Be good for Preya.” She sweeps a hand over their chubby cheeks and through the thin curls on their heads. When she straightens, they start crying again, the sounds shrill like they're in pain.

  Instead of caring for them, Mother turns to me. “Love them as I have loved you. As I will always love you. Be strong, Preya. Don't change for anyone. Trust fate to guide you. You are special. I knew it the moment you were born. Don't ever forget that. And do not leave this room. Remember your promise.”

  She kisses my forehead and hugs me tight, while the babies wail in the cradle.

  I feel my body trembling in Mother's arms. Tears roll down my cheeks. I open my mouth to tell her I’m scared but the pounding comes again. Loud and hard like whoever is here is about to beat down the door.

  I flinch. Mother does, too.

  “Ivory!” Father shouts. “Don't let her come down.”

  Mother presses something into the palm of my hand. “I love you,” she says one last time, and then she races from the room.

  I lift my hand and open my fingers. Mother's favorite broach lies on my palm. The silver butterfly has two jewels in each wing—teal and green, matching our two different colored eyes.

  She keeps it with her for luck. Why did she give it to me then?

  “You can't have her!” Father bellows from downstairs. “Not her. Take me. Take me instead!” His voice breaks like he's crying, no sobbing, or maybe it's the twins I hear.

  I can't tell. I don't know what to do. I can't stay here. But I can't leave the babies. I promised Mother.

  “Mother? What's happening?” I’m crying now too, big fat tears of confusion, of terror.

  The girls' faces are bright red, their little mouths wide with their sobs. Carys's fist breaks free from her blanket. She waves it in the air as she wails on and on.

  Pick them up. Do something! I scold myself, but my feet are already moving across the room to the window. It overlooks the front yard of the manor. The awning blocks my view from the door.

  A red-haired girl stumbles backward from the steps. The front lights shine on her freckled face. Her features are scrunched, her lips curved with a deep frown like she's crying, too. Her head jerks to the side like she heard something, but no one is there. She turns in that direction and speaks to … the air?

  Her arm lifts, and she lurches forward like she’s being dragged down the hill toward the village.

  I know her, but my mind doesn’t want to connect the dots.

  The babies' cries turn to soft rasps and then quiet. Have they fallen back asleep, unattended and unloved? Mother told me to take care of them. She said they need me. I sit in the chair where Mother had been and rock the cradle as quivers race through my body.

  Calyssa yawns and Carys sucks on her thumb. Red rings their tired eyes. “There, there girls. Everything is all right. Mother will be back any minute.”

  “She won't, Preya.” Father appears in the doorway. His shirt is untucked, his hair a disheveled mess. His hand clutches his chest like he’s trying to grip his heart. Red veins show in his glossy blue eyes. Father never cries.

  I stand as he slides down the door frame to the floor. “She's gone, Preya. I couldn’t save her. The curse, that bloody curse.” His voice sounds weak, defeated. He slams his fist onto the wood floors and lets out an agonizing sob.

  The answer hiding in the back of my mind springs forward. The girl out front was Andina, the maiden chosen as Messenger this year. She knocked on the door and delivered the bloody clothing to the person who is Fated to Die. The kind, loving person who is now dead and will never return home to her daughters or husband again.

  Ice fills my veins, and my body grows numb.

  Father weeps on the floor, a shell of the man he was this morning.

  The twins have fallen back to sleep. And I … I stand here frozen, my heart breaking, grieving the loss I already feel in the house. Mother is gone, her light, her warmth, her smile, all of it, and I did nothing to save her.

  The manor seems darker, colder like a shadow hovers above. A shadow that will never leave.

  CHAPTER 1

  Seven Years Later

  Hay pokes me in the back for the third time. I wince and reach underneath me to pull the sharp piece free. It sticks to my blouse. With Espen’s weight on me, half of his body covering the right side of mine, it’s hard to get a good grip.

  I wriggle and slip my hand further between the thin blanket and my back until I wrench the hay from my shirt and toss it aside. Phew.

  Espen huffs and rolls onto his side, propping himself on one elbow. He shoves his curly brown hair from his eyes. “Let me guess. Another piece of hay?”

  “Yes,” I hiss. “Why is that so hard to believe? We’re in a barn. There is hay everywhere. Would you rather I lie here and suffer in pain?”

  “I would rather you relax and submit yourself to me. We could have been done by now.” He throws back his head and groans to the rafters above. “Why must you be so difficult?”

  “Maybe because I’ve never done this before,” I shout, too annoyed to keep calm. I’ve never been courted or eligible for marriage, and I certainly never entertained the idea of being intimate with another individual, especially a person I’ve hated most of my life.

  “I’m not here to charm you, Preya. I’m here to do what your father is paying me to do. Need I remind you this was his idea.”

  I can’t argue with that. He’s right. My father arranged this secret consummation out of desperation to keep me safe. We chose the barn on our land down the hill from my family’s manor because it’s far enough from town and the watchful eyes of the Council. They have rules. Mating before the age of eighteen and before marriage is unauthorized, punishable by imprisonment in the castle dungeons until death for all involved.

  The wind howls outside, rattling the barn door. The horses stir in their stalls. Daisy, my favorite and best friend—my only friend—neighs softly, reminding me she’s here should things get out of hand. She’s another reason why I chose the stables to do this.

  Espen leans close, the heat of his body making me cringe. “Let me kiss you again.”

  I turn my head away. “I don’t think it’s necessary.” Once was more than enough.

  His hand curls into a fist where it rests on his thigh. “You should be throwing yourself at me given what I’m doing for you. No one else would dare touch the girl with unnatural eyes for fear the rumor is true.”

  “The rumor is a lie,” I state. “You can’t be kissed by darkness.”

  “Then how else do you explain their abnormality? I’ve never known anyone to have them, but then I’ve never known anyone to have skin and hair as pale as snow, either.” He touches a long strand, sliding his fingers to the end, seeming mesmerized.

  “Maybe I’ve been kissed by the Blessed Ones.” I smile, recalling Mother’s words to me the day I came home in tears. I was five and desperate for a friend, but the kids in the village would rather mock me for my appearance than invite me to play with them. My mother suffered similar teasing but not to the extent that I had. Of course, she wasn’t as pale as me and her eyes were lighter, making the difference between the green and blue colors less noticeable.

  Espen cocks a brow. “If you were kissed by the Blessed Ones, you wouldn’t be in this situation. They’d never allow someone that precious to endure the fate of the curse. Yet, here you are, on the floor of your father’s barn, giving me your virtue to save yourself.”

  My teeth mash together. “I told you, I’m not here to save myself. I’m here for my family. They need me.”

  Losing Mother nearly killed Father. Losing me would finish him off. Who will care for him, raise the twins, and maintain the gardens mother loved, if I’m gone?

 
Espen snickers. “Right. You expect me to believe if the barrier were to lift, you wouldn’t be one of the first maidens to escape before being chosen tomorrow.”

  It won’t be an issue if I mate with Espen. I’d be safe, regardless. “The barrier will never lift.” Since the beginning of the curse, it’s magic has trapped us in the village while keeping others out. Not once in a century has it faltered. “But even if it did, I wouldn’t go. Not without my family.”

  Espen clamps my shoulder and pins it to the ground. “Then we better get started. Come now, Preya. Drop the ‘Stone Beauty’ act. You want me, all the maidens in the village do. Some have had me, too. None who have ever paid me for it, though.”

  I shove his hand away. “Don’t call me that.” Using the nickname, Stone Beauty, the kids christened me with years ago only reminds me of why I avoid people like him.

  “But you’ve earned it,” he says, his voice tender yet malicious, “with your cold act, pretending to be better than us—better than me. I am an Elite.”

  I flash him a mocking grin. “And yet you’re here, slumming it with the lower class. That makes you desperate.”

  He lets out a dark laugh. “It makes me smart, Preya. I’ve no need for the few gold coins your father paid me. If anything, they’re an insult.”

  My skin grows hot with anger. Of course, the coins are insignificant to him. My family, however, needs all the money we can get. I lay out my palm. “If that’s true, give them back.”

  He plucks a piece of hay from his pants. “Nice try, but I don’t think so. You can’t swindle me out of what I’m owed. I’m not stupid.”

  “No. You’re smart and yet, you’re here. Why risk your own safety for the insult of a few gold coins?”