Read Darkness Awakened (Primal Heat Trilogy #1) (Order of the Blade) Online
Authors: Stephanie Rowe
Darkness Awakened
The Order of the Blade
Primal Heat Trilogy, Book One
By Stephanie Rowe
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Praise for Darkness Awakened
“A fast-paced plot with strong characters, blazing sexual tension and sprinkled with witty banter, Darkness Awakened sucked me in and kept me hooked until the very last page.” ~
Literary Escapism
“Stephanie Rowe does it again! Darkness Awakened is an exciting journey full of fast and furious action, sizzling attraction, bad-ass Immortals and strong women with the power of Illusion. Immerse yourself in this fascinating new world and don’t be surprised if you never want to leave!” ~
Book Addict, When Pen Met Paper Reviews
“Rarely do I find a book that so captivates my attention, that makes me laugh out loud, and cry when things look bad. And the sex, wow! It took my breath away. The author keeps the tension high from page one. The pace kept me on the edge of my seat, and turning the pages. I did not want to put this book down... [Darkness Awakened] is a must read.” ~
D. Alexx Miller, Alexx Mom Cat’s Gateway Book Blog
“Darkness Awakened unfurled a two thousand year old history and mythology. Full of action and suspense, I couldn’t stop turning the pages! Darkness Awakened is... wait for it... dark. But, underneath the darkness is the promise of light. Faith and love that can overcome fate. Don’t miss out on this fabulous adventure!” ~
Tamara Hoffa, Sizzling Hot Book Reviews
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Darkness Awakened (The Order of the Blade: Primal Heat Trilogy, Book One)
ISBN-10: 985179228
ISBN-13: 978-0-9851792-2-9
Copyright © 2012 by Stephanie Rowe.
Cover design © 2012 by Pete Davis. Cover design and illustration by Pete Davis. Cover photos courtesy of iStockphoto.com.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, disseminated, or transmitted in any form or by any means or for any use, including recording or any information storage and retrieval system, without the prior written consent of the author and/or the artist. The only exception is short excerpts or the cover image in reviews.
Please be a leading force in respecting the right of authors and artists to protect their work. This is a work of fiction. All the names, characters, organizations, places and events portrayed in this novel or on the cover are either products of the author’s or artist’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author or the artist.
For further information, please contact
[email protected]
Dedication
For Bill Berman, an amazing man with a great heart, beautiful soul and a love for books that help make the world a brighter place.
Acknowledgements
Special thanks to my core team of amazing people, without whom I would never have been able to create this book. Each of you is so important, and your contribution was exactly what I needed. I’m so grateful to all of you! Your emails of support, or yelling at me because I hadn’t sent you more of the book yet, or just your advice on covers, back cover copy and all things needed to whip this book into shape—every last one of them made a difference to me. I appreciate each one of you so much! Special thanks to Sharon Stogner, Jeanne Hunter, Tamara Hoffa, Rachel Unterman and Jan Leyh, not only for their help, but for their friendship and behind-the-scenes support. Huge thanks also to Anita Nallathamby, Loretta Gilbert, Casey Harris-Parks, Summer Steelman, D. Alexx Miller, Janet Juengling-Snell, Jenn Shanks Pray and Jodi Moore. There are so many people I want to thank, but the people who simply must be called out are Denise Fluhr, Noelle Norris, Alencia Bates, Krizia Columna, Shell Bryce, and Ashley Cuesta. Thank you also to the following for all their help: Judi Pflughoeft, Sarah Whitten, Julie Simpson, Mary Lynn Ostrum, Maureen Downey and Mariann Medina. You guys are the best! Thanks so much to Pete Davis for such an amazing cover, and for all his hard work on the technical side to make this book come to life. Mom, you’re the best. It means so much that you believe in me. I love you. Special thanks also to my amazing daughter, who I love more than words could ever express. You are my world, sweet girl, in all ways.
Death was stalking them.
Quinn Masters sprinted through the thick mountain woods of southern Oregon, trailed by the six young Calydon warriors he was training. Dodging overhanging branches coated with moss, Quinn scanned the night with his senses. He searched for the scent that shouldn’t be there, for the noise that was out of place, as he hunted ruthlessly for the threat that had triggered his internal warnings.
He could find nothing amiss, but his gut knew it was a lie. His legendary instincts were often all that had kept him and his team alive, and they were all over this situation. Something was seriously wrong, but what the hell was it?
Quinn mentally scanned the team behind him to see if any of them had gone rogue, but there was only gritty determination from them as they followed him through the woods. Their minds were focused solely on their goal of being selected to join the Order of the Blade, the elite group of Calydons tasked with the mission of saving innocents from rogue Calydons, no matter the cost. Each trainee was intent on passing the tests, to be heralded as worthy of risking his life for humanity, morally strong enough to kill friends that had gone rogue, and deadly enough to defeat the opponents that no other creature could stop.
Someday, some of these trainees might be immortal warriors feared by all, loved by none and haunted by what they had to do in the line of duty. Tonight, they were young, unskilled, and in grave danger, because whatever was after them was deadly as hell.
Quinn’s mind was in overdrive, his adrenaline jacked, as he methodically and swiftly assessed every detail of his surroundings. He sorted through the rich scents of dampness and pine, of dirt and sweat, but came up with nothing. What was the threat that was making his skin crawl? He knew it was out there, and he would find it.
“What is it?” one of the trainees asked.
Silence.
Quinn sent the order with such force that he heard the young warrior grunt with pain.
He halted at the bottom of the rocky ridge that was the highest point in his three hundred acres of untamed land. Silently ordering his charges to be still, he studied the overhang of rocks and roots that loomed a hundred yards above them. These were Quinn’s woods, his territory, a sanctum he opened once every twenty years for a month of intensive training and testing with the young Calydons whom the Order had selected as potential candidates to join the team.
His land was a well-protected hideaway that no enemy dared enter. It was a safe zone where the rookies could make mistakes and not die for them.
Until tonight. Until now. Something that stank of evil and rot was in his woods, and it was fixated on the youth under his protection.
Just try it.
He sent the message out into the night. The air thickened, and he knew he’d been heard.
He grinned.
Bring it on, asshole.
The ridge was the natural place to make a stand, an easy site for even these young warriors to defend successfully. But as Quinn eyed the ledge, the swords branded on his forearms burned in anticipation of battle. The air felt heavy and ponderous, like it was coated with sludge. The ridge was darker than it should have been, as if a thick cloud of malevolence had cloaked it in death. The wind was too calm. The animals eerily silent. The trees dangerously still.
Whatever had encroached upon his property was waiting for them on the top of the cliff. It knew his land, and it knew that was where he’d take the trainees to fight.
Quinn narrowed his eyes, tempted to call out his swords and take out the bastard arrogant enough to trespass on his land and threaten his charges. He’d need only a split second to call his weapons into reality, transforming the brands into deadly steel blades designed for only his hands. Each Calydon was chosen by his weapon, and Quinn wielded his swords with lethal precision.
He took one step toward the cliff, then stopped instantly when deadly certainty reverberated through him. His trainees would die on that ridge tonight if he took them up there.
Anger rippled through him.
Screw that.
They were his to keep alive, and they weren’t going down. He’d get them out, then come back for the battle.
Quinn quickly assessed his options and decided the river was the nearest exit. He could get them there fast, before the intruder realized what he was doing.
Quinn sent a silent order to his trainees as he spun around and sprinted toward the raging waters that were running violently from the winter rains. Tense and agitated, the rookies were loud behind him, their feet snapping branches and splashing through mud. Adrenaline was interfering with their ability to maintain silence. Quinn sent out a wave of calming warmth to them, but there was so much electricity in the air that his attempt was useless.
Swearing, he pushed them harder, knowing that whatever was stalking them would be fast on their tail. He had to get them out before their enemy caught up.
The roar of rushing water filled the night as they approached, drowning out the other noises in the woods, including the sounds that would tell Quinn if their enemy was near. Swearing, he concentrated on scent, but he could smell only the dampness from the river, the fertility of the moisture-laden earth and the salty sweat of his trainees. He could see nothing amiss in his woods, and his instincts were telling him they were safe for right now, but he knew it had to be a lie. There was no way the threat from the ridge wasn’t tracking them, but Quinn’s gut was always right.
Which meant something was screwing with his instincts.
He almost laughed at the realization that the intruder was trying to mess with his gut.
Nice try, scumbag.
He was never wrong.
As Quinn barreled toward the river, he shut down his external senses and reached deeper inside for the guidance that made him one of the most formidable warriors in the Order. No rhyme, no reason, no external facts guided those instincts, and yet they were always right.
He opened his soul to his surroundings, allowing that deeper part of himself to access messages he couldn’t identify on his own. The night became still and silent as he allowed the fullness of his intuition to guide him. He could sense that the threat behind them was powerful and deadly, and a tinge of evil coated his mind like poisoned tentacles. Renewed urgency filled him with the need to get his charges into the river. “Go!” he yelled as he half-slid down the embankment toward the muddy water. “Now!”
Quinn skidded to a stop at the edge of the water and whirled around as his trainees came sprinting down the hill, moving with impressive speed for a team so young. He grinned with satisfaction as they neared, knowing they were almost safe—
His gut suddenly roared a warning, and Quinn heard the soft intake of air behind them. So faint, barely a whisper in the night, but he caught it. Someone had been waiting for them to pass by.
Son of a bitch.
“It’s a trap!” Quinn sprinted back up the slippery mud bank toward the rookies. He called forth one of his swords. The blade sprang out of his skin with a flash of black light and a loud crack. The jeweled handle slammed into the palm of his hand with satisfying force. He raised his blade as his trainees scrambled for position, shouting in confusion when a small metal disc burst out of the woods in a spinning blur and cracked into the head of the nearest kid.
The neophyte dropped instantly.
Another Calydon swung at it with a battle axe, and the whirring metal skillfully dodged it before slicing through the kid’s neck.
“Back to back!” Quinn shouted at his team, ordering them into a defensive formation. “Track it!” Quinn bolted into the fray as the best trainee charged their assailant, hurling his dagger with brilliant speed and accuracy.
But the spinning disc was viciously fast, ducking and weaving, and the youth was dead before he even hit the earth. Sparkling with the moonlight, the disc spun around and clipped another trainee, and another, moving so quickly Quinn had to tap into his heightened senses to be able to track it.
“Try me, you bastard!” Quinn roared as the shadowed disc whirled around and spun right for the last trainee with dizzying speed.
Quinn leapt in front of the weapon and struck with unerring precision, smashing his blade into the metal object. The disc crashed into his sword so hard that the impact drove him to his knees, and it ricocheted into the forest floor with a thump that cleaved a gash in the earth. He leapt to his feet and jammed his sword into the spinning metal, neutralizing it before it could take flight again.