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Authors: Desiree Deorto

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Coming of Age, #Romance, #Paranormal

The Prophecy (27 page)

BOOK: The Prophecy
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“Goddess help us.” She mumbled. “Eleanor, I need you. Now!” There was nothing but the sounds of the storm, the feeling of Andrei's lips. “She will die! Do you hear me? Her soul is already starting to shatter! The power is too much for her in this state! You need to help me or
your daughter will die!
” My mind briefly caught on my mother’s indrawn breath before it started fleeing again. Digging deeper into the darkness.

The sound of chanting voices became louder. Beating down on me and tightening around me. I tried to escape the sound, to fall back into the nothingness that started to consume me, but it wouldn't have that. It felt like claws had been dug deeply beneath my flesh, pulling me, yanking me toward something. The pain increased until I felt like at any moment it would end. You couldn't feel that much and survive it.

Suddenly, the pressure started to ease. A light seemed to come from somewhere, weakly pressing into the darkness. I focused on it, confused as to why it would be there. There was never a light within the darkness. Never any good within the evil. It drew closer to me with the increasing volume of the chanting. The storm outside started to die down, fighting to stay alive. As the light grew stronger, I felt myself start to return. Start to break through. I could almost see it. The perfect balance of the light within the darkness. Two halves of a whole.

I felt the pressure within me leave. I opened my eyes, and looked into the steady gaze of Ms. Beckingdale and that of my mother’s. Their eyes seemed to glow in the fading light as the darkness and the storm finally lost its intensity. My body began to relax as the shaking eased, leaving me exhausted.

She released me, and I fell gracelessly to the floor. I was gasping heavily for breath as I tried to sit up, but my arms wouldn't cooperate.


It should hold, for now.” Ms. Beckingdale stated simply. My eyes slowly moved up her body, resting on her saddened gaze.


Will one of you please tell me what's happening?” I weakly asked, tears still flowing freely down my face.

Andrei dropped his gaze, refusing to make contact. My mom fared no better. I looked at Ms. Beckingdale pleadingly. I needed to know. I couldn't live without knowing.

She knelt before me and brushed my matted hair away from my face. “There's a lot to explain.”


Obviously.”

She smiled softly, then turned serious again.
“Have you heard the legend of Shiloh?” I nodded my head, too weak to say anymore. My eyes kept moving to my mother, but she had turned away. Her shoulders were shaking. I knew she was crying. “Good. Well it's true. The story is true. Many years ago there was a Sorceress named Sarah,” my mind flashed to the journal, already knowing where this was going. “She was very kind, a true gift to the world and the most beloved of the Goddess. She fell in love when she was about your age to a warlock named Merlo. At first, he was just as kind, but he soon became greedy, wanting more power than the coven would allow. So he turned.


He went against the coven, against the Goddess, and began seeking out one of the darkest Gods the world had ever known. He was granted more power, but the power started to consume him. Driving him to the brink of madness. Sarah, Goddess bless her, found out while she was pregnant with child. When it came almost time for the birth, she knew he must be stopped. He had grown too powerful, and only she was left with enough power to stop him. If she waited any longer, then no one on this earth could end his reign. 


She sacrificed her life in order to stop him. His power was trapped in the amulet that you have lost, and his soul was trapped within the headstone, waiting to be released. When you went to the graveyard that night, you set into motion everything needed to release him.


You are the last of Sarah's descendants. While your mother and those before her held some small amount of power, yours will be unparalleled to any others besides Merlo's. You have lived your life without training, without knowledge. For that I am deeply sorry, for it has led you to this moment in time. Without the proper training, the power within you, and that of the amulet, will begin to consume you, just as it did Merlo. You will become lost, and anything good within you will be smothered into nothingness.” She held up her hands weakly then quickly dropped them. I stared at her.

This was what I was waiting for. What I had needed to know since the beginning. But now that I did, I wish I could forget it. All of it. I didn't believe in magic. I didn't believe in legends. I didn't believe that I could be a part of this. Any of this.

My mind screamed in rebellion. This must all be a hallucination. My mind must have finally snapped and I was just as crazy as everyone thought I was. That must be the answer. Yet, deep down within me, there was a small spark of belief. A part of me that was clinging onto the words she spoke, a part that believed. When I looked up at my mother, she was staring at me. A haunted look filled her eyes that I had never seen before. It felt shattering.


Mom, is this true?”

She nodded as more tears fell down her face.
“Yes. I didn't know. I swear to the Goddess, Star, I didn't know! This just doesn't make any sense! The child is supposed to have silver eyes! The only one in the bloodline without the pureness of amethyst! But you! You were born with the eyes of the pure. I just don't understand.” She pressed her hand to her mouth and moved away, barely holding on to her control.

Her words only served to confuse me. What did eye color have to do with anything? My mind was sluggish. I couldn't connect the pieces properly.
“What will happen to me? What will happen if I just pretend none of this ever existed, if I went back to being normal?” I asked Samantha.

Her eyes glistened with tears as she smiled sadly.
“There is no going back, Starlette. There is no escaping it. If you ignore it, Merlo will still be released and you will still lose every decent part of you. If you don't accept your fate, your destiny, then The Prophecy will shatter, and the world as we know it will end.”

I glanced at Andrei's face, but it was unreadable. He was completely closed off to me now, cold just like before. My heart sank in my chest. It was a lot to take in, to sort through. The words from Sarah's journal seemed to float through my head, mixing with those of Samantha's.

I looked to my mother again, but she still wouldn't face me. “If my eyes aren't like the prophecy said they would be, then how do you know? How do you know I am the one?” I couldn't be the one. I wasn't strong enough. I couldn't even fight the darkness inside of me yet they expected me to save the world.

Andrei left my side, and returned a moment later with a jagged shard of mirror. I looked at him questioningly. He angled it to where I could see the upper half of my face. What I saw stole the breath from me.

Mom must have not been looking close enough. I knew my eyes had turned silver when the darkness unleashed, when the destruction started. It was never there when I was normal. As normal as I could ever be. The shape of my eyes were the same, but the color was wrong. Violet now only rimmed my eyes, seeming to fight its way toward the pupil. From the pupil outward was silver, fighting for supremacy. My mind flashed to the light, how it had morphed within the darkness, creating a perfect balance. Now I knew that the silver represented the darkness, and the violet the light. I took a deep breath and removed my gaze from the mirror shard. I didn't need to see anymore. I understood.

This was one of those moments that changes the course of your life forever. Where you have to decide whether to be selfish, and turn away from everyone and everything that matters, or where you let go of all you ever wanted, and set out on a terrifyingly new journey. I’ve never been one to martyr myself, but I’ve never been selfish either. The air shuttered out of my lungs in a slow whoosh as the faces of the people I love, along with the faces of the nameless millions, flashed before my eyes.

I was terrified, but I really only had once choice. One chance. If in some way I could fix the damage I had done, repent to those that I hurt, and make it to where I'd never unknowingly hurt someone again, I had to do it. I took a deep breath, gathered whatever courage I had left, and faced Samantha. “Alright, I’ll do it.”

Even as I watched the relief seep into her body, I couldn’t help but wonder if there were two sides to me now. The perfect balance of darkness and light. Will the light that now resides in me be enough? Would I be enough to save those nameless millions? Or will the darkness consume me, making it my master?

To Be Continued…

 

A
cknowledgements

 

Special thanks goes to the people who refused to let me quit (and who would push me till I gave this all that I had) Heather Hildenbrand, Patti Larsen, Jeremy Leinenbach, Misty Provencher and Frankie Rose.

A million thanks to my editor, Anna Gorman Coy, who dealt with me and my panic attacks from the beginning and who never stopped believing in me. I love you all and I wouldn't be here without you guys.

Awesome amounts of glitter and confetti to my Beta Readers: Jess Danowski, Felicia Tatum, Susan Burdorf, Heather Berrier, Mallory Thorpe, Tyeesha Webb, Dani Morales, Heather Hildenbrand and Patti Larsen.

And a mass shout out to my street team, who was more excited about the release than I was! Felicia Tatum, LP Dover, Heather Hildenbrand, Mallory Thorpe, Tasha Rae Ivey, Jess Danowski, Sirena Higgs, Katherine Eccleston, Raine Thomas, Anna Gorman Coy, Heather Berrier, Michele G. Miller, Adriane Boyd, Katie Mac, Sarah Ashley Jones, Amber Garr, Heather Robbins, Ali Hymer, Mercy Amare, Laura Howard and Tyeesha Webb.

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER ONE

 

OF

 

Blood Rule

 

By

Heather Hildenbrand

 

 

 

 

 

Listening to headphones at maximum volume with your back turned to the doorway is a fantastic way to get the crap scared out of you. Cambria had said those exact words this morning when she’d come up behind me and I’d dropped an entire gallon of milk on my kitchen floor.

In my tent reflecting on that incident, I felt a hand close over my shoulder. I screamed. In one violent move, I scrambled to my feet, ripped the headphones free and chucked them aside, and swung out with my fist.

Wes jerked back in time to avoid getting smacked.


Geez. It’s just me,” he said, throwing up his hands.

I relaxed.
“Sorry. You scared me.”


Obviously.” He was fighting a grin—and losing. I stuck my tongue out.

He stood in front of me wearing nothing but a pair of jersey shorts, the drawstring untied. They were a little long but they fit around his hips. In a really yummy sort of way. My heart tripped over my diaphragm in my attempt to breathe evenly.
“Where’d you find those?”


George’s, I think. I’ll put them back when I leave.”

I backed up so Wes could fit into the small square of canvas that was mine in this chaotic communal space of woods. He reached back and closed the flap. The moment we were hidden from view, he pulled me into his arms and sank onto the pile of blankets so that I fell into his lap.

His mouth found mine in the middle of my laughter. “What is this for?”


I haven’t seen you since yesterday. I missed you.”


I missed you too.” I returned his kisses and wrapped my arms around his neck, enjoying the feel of his bare arms pressing against me.

We rarely shared moments like this anymore. Privacy was nonexistent. Nowhere, no matter how secluded, was without interruption. As proof, my cheeks flamed with the growing awareness in my mind. I jumped when the mental voice became audible.

“Gross, you guys. Get a room.”

Wes pulled free and glared at George in the doorway.
“This one was working just fine until you showed up.”


You act like I wasn’t here the whole time.” George pointed at his temple. From outside the tent, I heard someone snicker.


Shut up, Derek,” Wes said, but that only made him laugh harder.


George, you need a life,” I said.

George mopped his brow with a towel.
“Don’t hate me because I choose a different method of calorie-burning.”


We’re not the haters,” Wes muttered. I pretended not to hear.

George and Derek had taken up running on two legs right around the time they’d realized neither was faster than the other on four paws. They’d invited me along but I declined every time. No way was I getting in the midst of all that testosterone.

“You’re just mad I’m better at this than you are,” I shot back.


Oooh.” Derek elbowed George in the ribs. “She would know, right?”


Whatever.” George abruptly retreated only to reappear once more. “Dude,” he said, staring at Wes. “Are you wearing my shorts?”


Maybe.”

George grinned like he’d just figured out the punch line of a really good joke.
“Guess you’ve got all my hand-me-downs now.”

Wes picked up a bottle of water and sent it hurtling through the air but George was already gone. The sound of his and Derek’s laughter faded as they went.

I couldn’t stop my own giggle from escaping.


What’s so funny?” Wes asked.


The look on your face,” I said. “If looks could kill …”


You shouldn’t be laughing. Your ex-boyfriend just called you a hand-me-down. It was an insult.”

I shrugged.
“He just wanted to outwit you. He doesn’t really think that.”


How do you—? Never mind.”

I smiled and pointed to my own temple.
“Exactly. So, lighten up.”


Forgive me if I get a little touchy that I spend most days with the other guys you’ve kissed.”

Guys. He’d said guys. Plural. Were we finally going to have this talk?

I sat back. “Where is this coming from? It’s just George. You know there’s nothing between us.”


This bond is not nothing. I can’t even kiss you without him knowing. I might as well be kissing him.”

It was an old argument with no solution. While I knew it was a point of contention with us, I was determined to not let us fight about it. Not today.
“Um, that would be awkward. Then he’d have my hand-me-downs.”

Wes pursed his lips.
“You’re hilarious.”

I poked him in the ribs and his glare dissolved into an unwilling smile.

“I do what I can,” I said relieved he’d chosen to let it go.

I trailed kisses down the side of his face and felt his smile widen. When I got to his jaw, he turned his head so our lips met. I drew him closer and held on, letting the heat creep in. I still sensed frustration under the surface but I knew I couldn’t extinguish it completely. The bond bothered him just as much as it bothered me—maybe more. Unless it was broken, which was impossible aside from death, there was no getting rid of his frustration, not entirely.

I ran my hands up the back of his neck and let my fingers tangle in his hair. The kiss deepened. I could feel him relaxing by a few more degrees.

He broke it off before we could get carried away. I knew he was thinking of what George must be sensing right now, but I didn’t want to get into that again. On top of that, the noise in my head was getting a little distracting for the sort of activity we were engaged in.

At least the rest of the pack couldn’t read me as well as George could. With practice, I’d gotten better at filtering what slipped through into their awareness. I’d tried to do the same with George but I just couldn’t seem to keep him out. It’s like he tried extra hard to stay inside my head. The rest of them felt weaker, more agreeable to my pushing them out. Vera said it was an alpha thing. Which didn’t comfort me much since I couldn’t manage to do the reverse. I heard every single one of them, whether I wanted to or not.

I needed a break. A deep breath. Not that it helped in clearing my head. Nothing did.

I looked around for my headphones.

My thoughts clouded and jumbled as the volume increased. Someone yelped out loud and it echoed through my skull.

“What’s that?” Wes asked, drawing away and raising his face to the ceiling.

I sniffed. The smell of burnt hair permeated the air. I didn’t waste time trying to cover my face against the odor. Instead, I jumped to my feet and shoved the flap aside, searching camp for the source.

My tent had been constructed in the center of the clearing. All around me, makeshift tarps and tents and everything in between that could possibly be used to escape the elements had been thrown together in haphazard rows. There was no system, only open space and taken space. The boundaries of each shifted daily.

For once, I was glad to be in the center of the chaos the hybrids called home. It gave me a great view for searching out drama and mischief—of which there was plenty.

“Where is it coming from?” Wes asked, joining me.


There.”

In the far left corner, beside a wounded-looking tent, an aging Werewolf-hybrid cowered underneath the menace of Nick. He was a hybrid as well, turned from Hunter to Werewolf in his prime. He was stronger and faster than a lot of the others. But not me. Not the alpha.

“Be right back,” I said.


I’m going with you.”

Wes and I picked our way around tents and other obstacles. Shoes. Clothes—some shredded, some coated in mud from being left outside during last night’s rainstorm. Any other personal effects were out of sight. Possessions were limited and therefore closely guarded.

I approached Nick warily. Lately, he seemed to be the force behind more and more disputes. I wasn’t sure what the deal was, except that he had some need to exert authority over the others. That wasn’t going to fly. I had the authority here.


Nick,” I called. My voice was at normal volume but the severity of it was enough to get the attention of everyone in sight. “What the hell is going on?”


Rafe decided to sneak into my tent and go through my stuff,” Nick said.

I looked at the older hybrid. His yellow eyes were wide in contained pain. He was missing fur in several places on his shoulders and face. What was left smoked faintly. The smell was worse standing this close.

“Is this true?” I asked.

Rafe stared up at me where he lay flat on the dirt before Nick. Behind the pain in his eyes was defiance.
“He took my watch. It’s the only thing I have from before. I want it back.”


You went into his tent because he went into yours?” I asked. Rafe nodded. “Nick?”

He scowled and averted his eyes. I followed their track to the ground and found a pile of shredded fabric underneath Nick’s paws. And half buried in a pile of pine needles, a lighter.

I bent down and picked up the lighter, making sure Nick watched me pocket it. Then I marched over and got in his face. “Apologize to him.”

He blew a short breath out of his nostrils. It hit my face and I almost gagged. Werewolf Nick was in desperate need of some mouthwash.
“For what?” he spat. “I didn’t do anyth—”


Give him back the watch and apologize,” I said, cutting him off.


Is everything …?” Cambria walked up behind me but stopped short when she saw Rafe. “Holy cow. Are you all right? What happened?” Before anyone could answer, she clapped a hand over her nose. “You really stink.”

I shot her a look. She shrugged.
“Well, he does.”


Should’ve stayed out of my tent,” Nick muttered.

My hands tightened into fists at Nick’s nasty attitude. I had to will my shape to stay solidly human. I badly wanted to shift, but I’d already ruined two outfits this week.

Rafe made some noise of protest and Nick growled.


Nick, calm your ass,” Cambria snapped.


He went through my tent,” Nick said.


Stop stealing from people and they’ll stay out of your tent,” I said, my voice rising as my patience thinned.


This is bullshit. He had it coming.” The way Nick spat out the words, his lips pulled back from his teeth, made it hard not to bite him—without even shifting first.

I could feel my wolf rising to the surface. Nick was pushing me. My wolf wanted to push back.
“Bullshit, huh?” I said. “He came for his property and you burned him.”


Punishment.”


Who are you to give punishment? Or pass judgment?”

He didn’t answer.

“Come here,” I said. I held up the lighter.


No way. You’re not using that thing on me,” Nick said, backing away.

He didn’t get more than two steps before he bumped into something and lurched forward. He turned to see what he’d hit and came face to face with another wolf.

This one didn’t have the yellow eyes of the hybrids. He had russet fur and broad shoulders. Even on four paws, he stood almost a foot taller than Nick, and he glared at Nick with a ferocity I hadn’t seen in weeks. “Do what she says,” Wes growled.

BOOK: The Prophecy
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