Mistaken
Ancients of Light #4
Spring 2014
Enemies by circumstance of Creation
Sworn to their purpose, the Vampire and the Witch
were created to battle over the fate of mankind.
He was the First
Until one Vampire sought a Higher Purpose.
She was the Beginning
And one Witch’s faith brought Darkness into the
Light.
Their love would turn the course of the Ancient War…
Before the Prophecy, an Ancient Queen and the
Vampire she loved
would forge the path for those that would follow.
Excerpt
Tristan
liked that the witch was not composed enough to hide her shiver and the
responsive widening of her eyes, but he did not like the apprehension he viewed
there. He could not ascertain whether her tremble was due to terror or because
somewhere, deep inside, her need rivaled his own. Having witnessed her bravery in
their earlier confrontation, he tended to believe it was the latter, even if
she was too inexperienced to recognize that truth. Intensely satisfied that he
had her under his control - even if it was only for this short period – her
closeness eased his raging, predatory instincts.
Leaning down
to issue his gentle-toned inquiry, his breath stirred the tendrils of sun-bleached
gold near her ear, “Do I scare you, Alia?”
Alia
knew it was reasonable to be terrified; one of the darkest warriors within the enemy
ranks had abducted her. Drawing back to look at him, she had no doubt that he
was the stronger between the two of them. Those tips of teeth peeking from
behind his upper lip should have her screaming in fright and begging for her
life, but the longer she peered into that brilliant blue gaze, the more she
calmed and her senses acclimated to their surroundings.
The
sound of cascading water came to her, and almost simultaneous to that she felt
an internal pull. Disbelieving, her gaze flit to the mouth of the cave. During
her hurried inspection on arrival – her oversight most likely attributable panic
- she had failed to identify its most extraordinary feature. Standing deep
within the recesses, hundreds of feet from that opening, Alia had been mistaken
in thinking that the overcast weather was responsible for the wall of gray
visible beyond the entrance. Now, coupling her recognition of the sound with a second
look, she realized that it was not a foggy haze but that a waterfall curtained
the opening.
Those of
her Caste were strongest when surrounded by nature’s bounty, which was why her
kin settled within forests. It was also the reason they most often chose to
bare their skin in a manner that was just short of improper. The feel of the
rays of the sun and even the very wind against their flesh pulled at their
magic. Understanding was in her eyes when they narrowed and shot back to him. It
was obvious that he had been waiting for her to understand the significance of
this location.
Her command
over water and lightning was a new facet of Nature magic never before displayed
by her kind, but her captor had witnessed her abilities firsthand. The more
wild those elements, the more responsive her magic, and yet he had brought her here.
His smug expression conveyed that his choice for her temporary prison had been
deliberate and Alia was most certain that Tristan realized that her strength
would be magnified being near such a powerful manifestation of one of the
elements that she controlled.
Clever
Vampire… Skatosita … She did not want
to like him, but this one was making it rather impossible to relegate him to
the pile of degenerate monsters that populated his breed. She had already determined
that the Witch leaders were wrong in their assessment of his race. Rather than
a rabid beast, Alia had witnessed the intelligence in this Vampire leader. During
their first encounter, she had also glimpsed a side that suggested much more
was lurking in him. Now he intentionally brought her to a place where she would
feel strong, not powerless. A myriad of questions formed, and seeing her
bemused expression, Tristan smirked and lifted a brow in invitation to speak
her mind.
Her lone
question was accusatory, “How did you know?”
Tristan
refused to believe she was as upset with him as her tone implied, but he was
not going to pretend to be something that he was not for the sake of charming
her. Alia was a divine creation while he had been spat from the pits of Hell. He
was resolute - between them there would be no skirting what either of them was,
or the bloodied history between their breeds. For that reason, he gave her the
truth, “I told you that we know much about the Witch. Your breed spills secrets
from its lips as rain falls from the sky… and even was your Caste not of the
same ilk, your kin reveal their secrets as willingly as all the others with the
proper incentive.”
It sunk
into her slowly what he meant by incentive,
and she whispered confirmation of her understanding, aghast that he would
broach the subject with her and have the audacity to gloss over it, “Torture.”
The word
lingered between them and held no hint of question; the little witch had
already convicted him. Tristan could have comfortably avoided the blatant
confirmation, but he gave her a curt nod to make certain she had no room to doubt
her conclusion. He did not want her young and fanciful imagination to make him
into something more valiant than he was.
She did
not move, but her eyes stabbed him, followed by words that were pious and
clipped, “I would imagine, as a General in the Darks, that you are particularly
adept at such practices.”
Alia was
acting as though the Vampire were exclusive in their use of such abusive
techniques. Her youthful innocence was endearing, but her illusions about the
moral fabric of her leadership required correction. Rolling his eyes over her naiveté,
his arms folded across his chest. The response he offered was calmly given, not
defensive, “I am no more adept than your own leaders, Alia.”
There were
rumors, of course, about the methods used by the Queens to interrogate the
Vampire, but she had seen no such practice herself. She remained self-righteous,
“I would not know, but I cannot think that our ways would be as twisted as
those that the Darks employ and…”
Tristan
snapped, leaning in, his sharp words interrupting her defense of her breed,
“That is because you are young, Alia. You are foolish to believe that those you
follow are so far above what I am and what I am required to do in order to
fight this war.”
Starring
at him for long moments, Alia realized that while she could allow his impatient
interruption to push her into arguing, she was reluctant to fight with him.
While she would not take his claim as fact merely because the handsome Dark
proclaimed it, she would also neither ignore it. Many of her beliefs – beliefs
that had been postulated as truths by her Queens – had been challenged recently,
but she needed time and distance from him in order to form her own conclusions.
The best choice was to move to another topic.
He had
yet to withdrawal after those last words and his close presence was stealing
her focus while her magic seemed to be coursing manically through her veins. The
combination was leaving her feeling flushed and off balance. When she returned
to his very first question, Alia was conscious that her breathy words most
likely revealed too much of her attraction, “Should I be afraid?”
Tristan experienced
a surge of triumph when she turned the topic rather than answer his harsh words
in kind. The grin he gave her was a reflection of his pleasure and an entreaty to
trust him, “There are parts of you that already know that answer…”
Leaning
in closer still, it required only a small movement on his part to close the
small gap that remained between them. The beauty did not retreat. Her nearness
had his eyes shifting black while they lowered to observe the delectable pulse dancing
beneath the sun-kissed skin of her neck. Still the witch did not move away…instead,
her gaze was waiting for his when it lifted, and sparkles of magic blossomed there
in response to his entreaty, “Listen to those parts, Alia… something inside you
already knows that you belong to me.”
When she
did not immediately deny it, Tristan could not help but wonder what it would be
like to drink sunshine.
About the Author
Heather Fleener lives in Indiana with her husband, D.A. and
their twins, Thomas and Alexandra. Professionally she has spent her career
working in the area of Intellectual Property law.
Reading has been a passion of hers since she was young and
she has adored romance novels her entire life. The romantic styles of Judith
McNaught and Julie Garwood are her inspiration, though she has read and loved
the stories of countless other authors. Her fascination with the paranormal
began to form at the young age of six, watching late-night ghost and vampire
movies with her Grandpa. Unfortunately, as a result, she also remains afraid of
the dark to this day.
Combining her love of epic romances and the supernatural was
a natural progression for her overactive imagination. When the idea for the
Ancients of Light series began, it was an abstract story line rambling around
in her head to help kill a few miles on the treadmill. As the stories and
plotlines continued to grow, it finally became necessary to put the words to
paper and build the characters that had been living in the Realm and having
conversations in her head for months.
The series is a testament to many miles on the treadmill and
lots of characters that insist on having their stories told.
Website: http://www.ancientsoflight.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AncientsOfLight
Twitter: https://twitter.com/HeatherFleener
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