Immortally Theirs [Legends & Myths] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

Legends & Myths

Immortally Theirs

Dismissed as myth, the Fountain of Youth intrigued countless explorers. They chased the dream across oceans and continents, never finding the life-giving waters. But even myths can be real.

Claire Morgan is on the run from an abusive husband. Her days of freedom are numbered, though, and her husband will stop at nothing to find her. When he does, she knows she’ll die at his hands.

Christian and Stefan de la Fuente are brothers who have led separate and lonely lives for almost three hundred years. It might take a miracle, or at least a dead grandmother and one not-so-helpless damsel, to bring them together. But to save Claire, they’ll have to share the source, and curse, of their eternal youth.

A ruthless husband isn’t the only thing stalking Claire, but she’s finished letting others determine her fate. When she takes control of her future, though, even the legendary Fountain of Youth may not be enough to save her.

Note: There is no sexual relationship or touching for titillation between or among siblings.

Genre:
Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Paranormal

Length:
36,174 words
 

Legends & Myths

Scarlet Day

MENAGE AMOUR

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

IMPRINT: Ménage Amour

IMMORTALLY THEIRS

E-book ISBN:
978-1-62242-837-3

First E-book Publication: April 2013

Cover design by Harris Channing

All cover art and logo copyright © 2013 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED:
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All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

PUBLISHER

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

Letter to Readers

Dear Readers,

If you have purchased this copy of
Immortally Theirs
by Scarlet Day from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

Regarding E-book Piracy

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This is Scarlet Day’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Day’s right to earn a living from her work.

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www.SirenPublishing.com

www.BookStrand.com

To my husband, who has spent many afternoons with me wandering the historic streets of St. Augustine.

IMMORTALLY THEIRS

Legends & Myths

SCARLET DAY

Copyright © 2013

St. Augustine, Florida 1702

Christian’s lungs burned and the searing pain in his right side intensified with each breath of air he drew in. Thick, acrid smoke clouded his vision. He swiped a hand across his face, trying to wipe stinging tears out of his eyes. Cannon fire and gunshots tore through the night air, but he paid them no mind.

Where was Stefan? He scanned the ground, but there was no sign of his younger brother. He had to find him. He had to get him out of here. Christian stumbled across the uneven ground, unable to see in the dim moonlight streaming through the thick tree canopy. The pain in his side took his breath away and his legs gave out. Jolting agony rocked his body as his knees hit the ground. He pressed his hand to the wound in his side and then pulled it away. Blood covered his hand and dripped onto the dry ground. He struggled to his feet again, refusing to succumb to his injury, though he already knew he would not be in this world for much longer. But he had to find Stefan first.

Christian moved from tree to tree, using their thick trunks as much to support his weakening body as for cover from the English soldiers behind him. He could still hear them, but the sounds were more distant than they had been. The skirmish must be moving away from the city.

He forced his legs to keep moving, placing one unsteady foot in front of the other, until he caught sight of a crumpled shape at the base of a pine tree. He scrambled across the distance and dropped to his hands and knees next to the fallen man. His stomach rolled with dread as he gripped the man’s shoulders and rolled him over.

A wail as though from a wounded animal ripped from Christian’s chest. His heart felt as if it had been cut from him. He pulled his brother close to him and wrapped his arms around him. Great sobs wracked Christian’s body as he clung to Stefan. He couldn’t lose him. He couldn’t. Stefan was all he had left.

“Christian.” A familiar female voice drifted through the darkness.

Christian lifted his head from his brother’s blood-soaked chest. A woman walked toward him through the woods. No, not walked. She drifted.

“Christian, you must come.” The woman’s long black hair stirred in the gentle breeze as she drifted closer.

Christian narrowed his eyes and stared hard through the dim forest. “Nia?” Christian’s already tormented mind reeled. It couldn’t be her. His grandmother was dead.

“Come, Christian, quickly. Bring Stefan. You must come.” She drifted away, back through the woods.

Christian grabbed his brother and pulled him up, draping him across his shoulders. The burning in Christian’s side flared hotter as he struggled to his feet. Stefan’s added weight made it almost impossible to walk, but Christian forced himself to follow his grandmother through the dark woods.

The sounds of battle faded as Nia led him closer to the city. As they approached, the smoke became thicker and heat permeated the forest. Bile rose in Christian’s throat as he realized the cause of the acrid smoke and unnatural heat. Flames engulfed St. Augustine. Shock and horror threatened to overwhelm Christian. Everything was lost.

Christian said a silent prayer, thankful that most of the residents had taken shelter in the stone fort by the waterfront. It’s where he and Stefan should have been, but Stefan had volunteered to join other Spanish soldiers and leave the fort’s protection to meet the English insurgence. Christian had volunteered as well, unwilling to allow his brother to go into battle alone.

Nia stopped next to a tree and beckoned Christian forward. “Dig. Hurry.”

Christian felt certain he must be close to death. It was the one reason he could think of for his dead grandmother to appear to him. But he followed her instructions, regardless of his impending demise. He fell to his knees and lowered Stefan to the ground. With his bare hands, he dug into the sandy soil at the base of the tree. He felt his life blood oozing from his side with each scoop of sand, but he kept digging. Finally, with his strength waning, water bubbled up through the sand and pooled in the shallow hole.

“Drink, both of you.” His grandmother motioned to the water and to Stefan.

Christian cupped his hand and dipped it into the cool water. He parted Stefan’s mouth and poured the water into his brother’s lifeless body. Nia nodded and motioned for Christian to drink as well.

With his last ounce of strength, Christian leaned over the pool. He pushed his hands back into the shallow hole and then brought the water to his lips. It felt cool against his parched skin and the sweet taste soothed his parched throat.

Christian fell onto his side and looked up at his grandmother. Tears shone in her eyes as she stared down at him.

“There will be a price, child.” She knelt beside him and rested her hand against his forehead. It felt cool against his burning skin. “But you are all that is left of us. I could not stand to see you come to your end.”

Christian’s vision blurred and his grandmother faded into mist. He reached for his brother’s hand and gripped it in his. With one last rattling breath, Christian’s life drained away.

“What the hell am I doing here?” Stefan stood in the dark, empty street and stared at the white courtyard wall in front of him. It was pretty much the last place on earth he wanted to be. But when his dead grandmother showed up in the middle of the night and told him to get his ass home, he figured it was probably a good idea to do what she said. The last couple of times she had told him to do something, he had ignored her. That hadn’t turned out so well for him, so he was not going to make the same mistake again.

He hadn’t been back home in 250 years, since the Spanish exodus in 1763, when Britain gained control of Florida. He hadn’t spoken to his older brother since then, either, even though they checked up on each other through mutual acquaintances from time to time. He wondered if Christian was still lurking around the Old City, or if he had left their home in the hands of a caretaker. Thanks to his quick search through the county tax records, Stefan knew the property was still deeded in the de la Fuente family name. The ownership records had been changed every sixty or seventy years to indicate that the property had been passed down through successive generations. Except there were no successive generations. There was no one but Christian and Stefan. And that’s all there ever would be.

Stefan hitched his duffel bag higher on his shoulder and pushed the thick wooden gate open. He walked to the center of the courtyard and paused. Darkness covered the garden, but Stefan’s enhanced eyesight and keen sense of smell easily discerned the many tropical plants thriving in the manicured space. Orange trees lined a far wall. The aroma from their fragrant blooms wafted across the courtyard and wrapped him in their sweet scent. It had been a long time since he’d smelled the blossoms in full bloom. It was a smell he had always associated with home.