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Mists of Velvet

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by Sophie Renwick




  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  EPILOGUE

  Praise for Velvet Haven

  “Steeped in dark dangers and blistering sensuality, Annwyn is a world not to be missed! Renwick rocks!”

  —National bestselling author Sylvia Day

  “Sophie Renwick has created a sexy cast of heroes and loads of intriguing story twists.”

  —Joey W. Hill

  “FASCINATING. [Velvet Haven] scores a trifecta as fantasy, romance, and erotica. Four and a half stars. A top pick!”

  —Romantic Times

  “Sophie Renwick dreams up an enthralling new world with this deliciously sexy paranormal . . . an unforgettable tale.”

  —Fresh Fiction

  “For those who love paranormal romance, who love suspense and good mystery, who love the world of the Fae, and who long to find a way into the world of dreams and visions, this multilayered story is for you. . . . The twists and turns were completely unexpected. FOUR AND A HALF STARS!”

  —Book Binge

  Books by Sophie Renwick

  Mists of Velvet

  Velvet Haven

  Hot in Here

  HEAT

  Published by New American Library, a division of

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street,

  New York, New York 10014, USA

  Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto,

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  Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices:

  80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  First published by Heat, an imprint of New American Library,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  First Printing, February 2011

  Copyright © Sophie Renwick, 2011 All rights reserved

  HEAT is a trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA:

  Renwick, Sophie.

  Mists of velvet/Sophie Renwick. p. cm.—(The Annwyn Chronicles; bk. 2)

  eISBN : 978-1-101-47855-4

  I. Title.

  PS3618.E64M57 2011

  813’.6—dc22 2010039715

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  http://us.penguingroup.com

  To all the fans who have embraced this magical world—

  thank you.

  And to my daughter, Olivia, who first gave me the idea of an

  angel falling from the sky . . .

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  A book is never simply written—it’s rewritten until it comes together as it should. While an author writes the story, so many other people are part of the process that turns a story into a book.

  I have to thank my wonderfully patient editor, Tracy Bernstein, for always making my writing stronger—and for keeping me on track when Suriel wants to take over! As well, I have to thank the art department for the gorgeous covers they’ve given to my Annwyn world. Finally, kudos to the copy editors who make me look like I know what I’m doing and to the marketing department for getting the word out about this series.

  Thank you for all your hard work. I really, really appreciate it.

  PROLOGUE

  Once there was peace. Now there is war. In the past, Annwyn was filled with light, but now only shadows reign.

  The Dark Times have come.

  As foretold, Annwyn is at the mercy of a Dark Mage who seeks a flame and an amulet that have been hidden away for centuries. Into whose hands these fall will dictate what will come—peace once more, or annihilation.

  This master magician has a prophesized apprentice called the Destroyer whose identity remains carefully hidden. It is known only that he is an immortal who will possess the ability either to save or to destroy both Annwyn and the mortal realm.

  These Dark Times that surround us will bring betrayals, deaths, and utter blackness before the dawn of light may once again creep between the trees of the forest.

  I have seen Annwyn’s greatest weapon—the sacred nine, bringing the beginning and ending of all things. But their future is not fully told. That, I cannot see, for one among them is the Destroyer.

  The time has come. The nine shall gather. When they find the amulet and bring it back, our roles in this prophecy may be set forth.

  To aid the nine immortals, the Sacred Trine will be revealed—women whose virtues are Healer, Oracle, and Nephillim. Their powers complete the prophecy. Yet it is not only the warriors who wish to find the trine, but the master magician whose powers continue to grow stronger with each ritual of dark magick. The warriors must find and protect this Sacred Trine if they are to have any advantage over the mage. For if the mage finds these women, all will be lost.

  Thus far, the mage is winning, but in times of darkness, there is light, and with that light there is still hope.

  The Scribe of the Annwyn Chronicles

  CHAPTER ONE

  The king was coming.

  Bronwnn sensed it. The trees whispered of his presence. The winds sang of his strength, and the evening air tasted of his power. Annwyn was alive, humming with the magical aura of the great Sidhe king.

  His approach was slow, deliberate, like a wolf stalking a stag. Without haste he came, seeking any and all advantage as he traversed the ha
llowed groves to the temple—a place he well knew would not fully welcome him; a place that would try to bend the king to the will of the leader of their ancient order. All this Bronwnn knew, for she was one of them—a member of the order of the goddesses.

  Long had the goddesses ruled Annwyn. For thousands of years, Annwyn’s many races had been united in their awe, enthralled by their beauty and mystery as well as their powers. But Bronwnn knew something her sisters did not. The order was changing. The Dark Times would see to that. Soon the old ways would change—out of necessity—to make way for a new order.

  Closing her eyes, Bronwnn focused on the elements that surrounded her. They spoke of this change, too. They showed her the shadowy image of a new and powerful being who far surpassed the magic of Cailleach, the Supreme Goddess. Did Cailleach know? Bronwnn wondered. Or was it yet another mystery she must keep hidden?

  A strange vibration hummed along her skin, and she opened her eyes to see the mist shrouding the sacred temple shimmer, then part, allowing the king’s progress toward the inner sanctum where the Supreme Goddess held court.

  Bronwnn did not need to hear the warning of the Sidhe king’s arrival murmured throughout the forest, for she had felt him long before the leaves shimmered above her, telling of his nearness to the temple.

  His was a power divined from the earth and the elements. His strength and magic preceded him, making him the most powerful force in Annwyn. Once, it had not been so. Once, the Supreme Goddess had been the most powerful, but Bronwnn had seen the subtle shift of power. Cailleach, of course, did not recognize it yet. But Annwyn did. All living creatures revered the king, bowed to his magic, and stood in wonder of the human queen whose powers made her husband so potent.

  Their union was a force no magic could have forged. They were destined to find each other, fated to love each other. For that was the way of mating in Annwyn. It was fated in the moon and stars, a destiny forged in the cosmos. No one could outrun his fate—nor want to. The desire to find and claim one’s mate was an irresistible force, and the Sidhe king was as helpless before his own destiny as any other creature in Annwyn.

  It was said there was one special soul to match every living thing in the world. One could live lifetimes before crossing paths with one’s soul mate, but in the end, the two destined spirits would finally make their way to each other, just as the king’s and queen’s spirits had merged despite one being human and one Sidhe. The new queen had made her king powerful.

  Even now the earth seemed to pulsate with the king’s authority, and soon all in Annwyn would pledge their fealty to the Sidhe king, and to his eight warriors.

  She had seen it. She did not doubt this vision. It was only a matter of when, for it would happen. Her gift did not lie.

  Sitting on the window ledge, Bronwnn gazed out from her spot high in a temple chamber, watching the clear waters of the meandering river snake toward the horizon, where they would eventually tumble over a waterfall. The climb up to the temple was steep, and the terrain treacherous, designed as it was to protect the ancient order housed within these thick stone walls. A castle supposed to be a sanctuary for her kind, it had never felt like a safe haven for her. For Bronwnn, it had been nothing but a prison.

  The wind picked up, blowing long strands of white blond hair from her braid. The hair tickled her eyes and obstructed her view of the mighty Sidhe king. Brushing the wayward strands from her eyes, she tucked them behind her ear, pressing forward in order to watch the king step out of the forest. Behind him was the queen—Mairi was her name—and when he embraced his wife tightly to his body, Bronwnn closed her eyes and absorbed the current of desire that emanated from them.

  She had once seen the king taking his wife. She had watched as the queen rode on top of her husband. She had studied them, enraptured, as the king made love to his wife on the sacred altar of the Sidhe.

  Bronwnn had been walking through the grove in an attempt to shake off the feeling of restlessness that had troubled her for weeks. The sound of their passion had drawn her to the king’s Nemed—sacred place.

  From between the trees, she had been at first startled, then intrigued to see the king and queen in the act of loving. Decency decreed she leave, but that restless feeling inside her forbade it. Instead, she watched them, wishing she might one day find the same passion with her own mate.

  Later that night, she had dreamed of a lover taking her body. His hands, large and warm, had touched her in places that seemed to bloom beneath his fingertips. It had been her first dream of him—not of the king, but of another: a lover she had dreamed of every night since, only to awaken in the morning in a state of unspent agony.

  Her time was coming, she realized, as she saw fleeting mental images of a dark-haired man with large, powerful arms and beautiful hands. She was reaching sexual maturity, a time in the life of a goddess that was spiritual and pure.

  Except the feelings and needs that assaulted her were not spiritual. They were carnal, lustful. She craved sex; she hungered for it—burned with the need for it. Did other goddesses feel the same, or was the need naturally stronger for her? As the goddess of sexuality and fertility, was she meant to have more powerful needs, or was this yet another abomination she was to live with?

  Now she watched the king and queen kiss and felt her own body come alive, just as it had that night when she watched them make love.

  Would she ever have this? A mate to touch her this way? Or would she forever be Cailleach’s servant, with only her fevered dreams to bring her pleasure?

  While the other young goddesses were schooled in the arts of sexuality, Bronwnn had been sheltered, forbidden to prepare for the sacred act of Shrouding. Left on her own most of the time, Bronwnn used the ancient texts in the library, learning what she could while trying to find a way to relieve the ache of what was coming—being left behind while the others were courted by Annwyn’s warriors, who would fight over them in a show of male strength. Only the strongest would lie with a goddess, for it was the greatest honor to share a bed with one of her kind. Every man dreamed of it. Every goddess rejoiced in it, for it was their duty, not only to sustain the order but to cement the bonds with the inhabitants of Annwyn.

  The others would experience it, and Bronwnn would be left alone in her chamber to wonder what it was like. Perhaps she might be able to hide in the shadows to watch and see what would be forever denied her.

  Bronwnn had never been told why she was kept separate from the others, but she believed it was because of the unusual powers she had, powers that Cailleach feared. So the Supreme Goddess segregated her, keeping her alone, to attend only her. This ensured that Bronwnn was always within sight, and within reach, as though whatever she saw in Bronwnn’s eyes worried the Supreme Goddess.

  Why? Was what she saw inside Bronwnn so horrifying that she must be kept from all the others? The thought made her lie awake at night.

  Their hands still entwined, the two lovers parted, slowly releasing, unwilling to let go; the image replaced the worrisome thoughts of Cailleach. The king was devoted to his queen, and to Annwyn. That was the reason he was here today. He would honor Cailleach’s summons.

  Reaching up on tiptoe, the queen kissed him, and Bronwnn saw the love shining in her eyes as they parted. It was wise for the queen to leave the king to his business, for she would not have a warm welcome here at the temple. The Supreme Goddess did not like her or fully accept her, for the queen was mortal, and Cailleach viewed mortals as inferior and useless. Rodents, she called them.

  But Bronwnn knew Cailleach would have to change her view of mortals if she wished any sort of assistance from the king. Times were changing, and Annwyn was now thrust into darkness. Even the temple was cast in a pall. Its mists, which had once shone like a rainbow, were now a gloomy shade of gray. The sun no longer rose over the temple but left it cast in a cloud of melancholy.

  Evil was present. Bronwnn felt it, that persuasive darkness that spread throughout Annwyn like a cloying vine, wrapping it
s tendrils around anything that got in its path. Annwyn, she was afraid, was succumbing to the dark magick.

  The Sidhe king watched his wife disappear into the forest before he shape-shifted into an elegant raven. He soared, high and graceful, catching the current of wind so that he dipped and banked. Fascinated, Bronwnn studied him, watching how he became one with the animal inside him. The king seemed to embrace both man and beast.

  Slipping away from the window seat, Bronwnn made her way down the curved staircase to Cailleach’s private solarium. She was not expected to wait on the Supreme Goddess while she spoke with the king, but she was far too curious to let such an opportunity pass her by. She hid behind a curtained screen, watching through a tiny crack as the king landed in the middle of the solarium, his bird form gone, replaced by a tall, imposing Sidhe.

  “I received your summons.”

  Cailleach’s pet owl flew from the back of her throne to his velvet perch by the window. The bird’s shrewd eyes watched the king, and Bronwnn pressed farther back to the wall, hoping to avoid the owl’s gaze. Cailleach, she noticed, did not rise to greet the king. They were not equals in her mind. She and the Sidhe king ruled Annwyn together, but the Supreme Goddess had always held ultimate power. Cailleach still clung to the old ways, despite the old ways having allowed the Dark Arts to be reborn.

  “Sit, Raven. Do you care for some wine?”

  “I care to get this over with.”

  Bronwnn watched as Cailleach’s cheeks reddened with anger. “I see marriage has done little to soften you, or improve your manners.”

 

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