The Dying Fate (The Umbra Chronicles Book 1)
Page 1
The Dying Fate
By Willow Ravenheart
Copyright © 2017 by Willow Ravenheart
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Acknowledgements
This simply wouldn’t have been possible without the support of some amazing loved ones and friends.
Jeromy – None of this would be possible without your support. I know there’s so much you would rather have done than listen to me talk hours upon hours about an imaginary world within my mind. Thank you, my love.
Kathleen – Thank you for reading my little story that I had absolutely no confidence in! Your support and beta reading made me have faith in myself!
Chapter One
The lake shimmers with the radiance captured from the waning moon above. My mouth waters. The scent of all the woodland creatures carried by the gentle breeze assaults my senses. They scurry around, attending to their nocturnal desires under cover of the heavens.
My eyes can see every blade of grass clearly. The dewdrops clinging to their stalks hold miniscule reflections of the stars as I stalk through the tall blades, the moisture clinging to my belly. I glance down, to my snow-white paws that are soaked with the early morning moisture. They carry me along the sandy lakeshore as I look out to the wooded cove before me…watching…waiting….
"Macy, it's time to wake up," Henry whispers, his warm breath fanning against my cheek.
The smell of his minty toothpaste and musky aftershave completely override my senses. The strange, yet familiar dream becomes a blurry memory as his lips trail down my throat. I'm inside a bubble. I want for nothing and I need nothing except for him. How is it that after so many years, even the sensation of his breath against my cheek awakens a deep, primal part of me that wouldn't exist without him?
Without opening my eyes, I turn on my side and wrap my arms around his naked, lean shoulders. "I don't want to get out of bed though!" I whine.
"You’re not the only one," he whispers, his lips gently pressing down against the corner of my mouth.
My fingers thread through the short curls at the base of Henry's neck, pulling him closer as I press my lips to his. He takes my breath away when his touch traces up the sides of my stomach, inching my camisole higher up my body. His hands like scolding hot irons against my skin as they slide underneath the flimsy fabric.
"There's nowhere else that I would rather be than here...with you," he tells me, his voice barely more than a whisper as his lips leave mine and trace down my jaw.
I'm putty in his hands. Hell, I've always been like this, but only with him. There's never been anyone other than him that I would want to touch me like this. After all these years, he knows every nook and cranny that sets my body aflame.
"Oh, I know," I moan, the proof of his words currently grinding against my hip.
The only thing separating us are the cotton knit of my sleeping shorts and the slick silk of his boxers.
I would know since the boxers were a prank gift from me for his birthday a few months ago. He refuses to wear anything else to bed now. At first, I thought he was wearing them simply because I bought them for him. But, when we were making Christmas lists for each other, more of the silk boxers were on the paper. Though there was a note to in the margin requesting that the next ones not be covered in little pink hearts.
His fingers trace over my ribs, each bone carefully outlined by the calloused skin of his fingertips. "Maybe we can stay in bed all day?"
"That sounds like a wonderful idea," I whisper, my legs wrapping around his waist to pull him closer to me.
He pulls a deep moan from my throat when his tongue darts past his lips to trace the vein pulsing erratically in my throat. My legs anchor him against my core and I dig my fingers into the naked skin along his shoulders. I wiggle beneath him and he grips my hips in a vice tight grip, his honey hued eyes locking gazes with mine.
"God, don't tempt me, Macy," he groans, his face diving down to my neck. His teeth bite down on my collarbone gently, leaving a very satisfying sting in their wake.
"Why do we even have to get up in the first place?" I whine, my hands running up and down his lean back, "It's Saturday. You know we never do anything on Saturdays."
Instead of answering, he nips the flesh below my collarbone. Only a few more inches and everything that we have planned today will be a distant memory. I don't mind though, I never have. There's no better feeling in this world than being lost in the sensation of his touch.
"We're supposed to be picking Dennis up from the airport. He can wait a few extra minutes. It won’t hurt him a bit," he groans as he pulls my camisole over my head.
A moan of approval passes my lips the moment his lips place open-mouthed kisses along my feverish skin. I toss my head back, my fingers tangled in his hair as his hot tongue darts out to taste my breasts. My back arches into his touch as my mind registers the words that were just spoken. Dennis? Airport? Why does that sound so...familiar?
"Shit!" I shout, tossing Henry away from me and rolling off the bed in a frenzy.
I'm officially the worst friend. Scratch that. I'm the worst best friend on the face of planet Earth. Who forgets their best friend? God, if Denny finds out that I forgot about him I'll never hear the end of it. He's always been a drama queen and I don't need to give him ammunition to hold over my head for the next whoever knows how long. His grudges are like fruitcake, they never decay.
"What was that about?" Henry asks with a groan as he crawls to his feet.
I turn to face him as my feet touch the freezing cold tile of the bathroom floor. He stretches across the vanity and hands me the toothpaste as I grab my toothbrush. Even when he's irritated with me, Henry is nothing other than a loving and caring boyfriend that loves me unconditionally... even after I kick him out of bed when it's getting hot and heavy.
I squeeze a generous glob of toothpaste onto the toothbrush. "Denny," I tell him, "How could you let me forget about him?"
"Well, can you blame me?" he asks with a chuckle, his hands reaching out to pass me a paper cup filled with water, "You were quite convincing back there. Well, until you pulled those ninja moves and knocked me on my ass that is."
I take the cup from him, rolling my eyes at his words as I brush my teeth, the minty taste filling my taste buds. Normally, I would do this after eating breakfast. But, after a glance at the clock hanging over the sink, I know that Henry has left us little to no time to get to the airport on time. So, eating is out of the question. That's Henry for you though, procrastination is his forte.
My eyes scan over him as I lean against the sink. His lean muscles are pulled tight as he looks at himself in the mirror, his fingers brushing through his untamed brown curls. If it wasn't for our obligations, I'd be happy enough to stay home and do absolutely nothing all day.
"I can blame you when Denny gripes and complains for a week about how we were late picking him up. You know how he is," I inform him after rinsing my mouth out.
"Yes, and I also know how you are. You'd have a coronary if we were late to anything. So, I know this is just as much about you as it is about him," he says with a chuckle before leaving the room.
I roll my eyes before following him to our shared closet and pluck a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved blouse from their hangers. Henry steals a glance at me before shaking his head, a broad grin plastered to his devilishly handsome face. Some would think the angles of his face are too sharp, but I see nothing other than sweet perfection.
Hell, I’ve been in love with him since the precipice of puberty. Luckily, we both grew out of our awkward bodies and full body acne.
"What are you smiling at?" I ask, pulling on some underwear before stealing a glance at the clock above our bed.
"I'm smiling at my breathtaking girlfriend who's trotting around the house topless," he snickers before pulling a thick sweater over his head, "You'd better watch out. You never know who could be looking through the windows."
I can't contain my laugh and simply shake my head before clasping my bra into place. It's not like there's much to contain, barely a handful, but I've never heard any complaints come from Henry's mouth. I feel like I'm built like a prepubescent boy at times, but he makes me feel like the sexiest woman on the planet.
He says to watch out for creepers, but he's the only man who's ever seen my breasts. Even the little, creepy old man with the binoculars that lives next door can't see through blackout curtains.
"Well, you won't be getting anywhere near this girlfriend if we're even a minute late to pick up Denny. Plus, you heard him on the phone last night. Something's wrong and I know it. Why would he be coming back so early?" I ask as I pull the rest of my clothes on.
He gives me a look, a sly smile across his face as he pulls on his jeans. "I know, and that's why I'm not dragging you back to the bed to finish what we started."
I'm glad that he agrees with me. Denny's been my best friend as far back as I can remember. We met on the first day of kindergarten and haven't looked back since. After we graduated from high school, he decided to travel and live abroad. From time to time he would come home and crash on the bed in our spare bedroom. But, for the past three years, those visits have been seldom.
I'm not being honest if I said that I've never been jealous of his lifestyle. Who wouldn't be when their best friend calls, bragging about what country they're living in at that precise moment. The one thing I've never been jealous of is his...sexual lifestyle. I swear, he's the biggest man-whore this side of the Mississippi.
When Denny called me late yesterday evening, I thought it was nothing other than another phone call telling me of which exotic place he was traveling to next. But, when I heard the sniffles on the other end of the line and his voice practically begging us to pick him up…. I knew something was wrong. Dennis Walker doesn’t cry over anything. Of course, he refused to go further into detail before abruptly ending the call, leaving me fuming and worried the entire night as we prepared to pick him up bright and early in the morning.
"Come on, we're going to be late," I tell Henry with a final glance at the clock.
I grab my purse from the nightstand beside our bed and steal a glance at Henry as he runs his fingers through his curly hair. If it wasn't for Denny needing us, I would drag him to bed and personally finish what we started earlier. But, when a friend needs you....
"I'm coming," Henry chuckles before leaning in close to lay an innocent kiss on my cheek, "He should be lucky that you love him so much. I don't wake up before dawn for anything. He's going to have to pay me back for this…big time."
He can complain all he wants to about Denny. I know he loves the guy. When Henry and I first began dating, I was scared that he'd be insanely jealous of Denny, but he instantly fell in love with my flamboyant best friend. Quickly, they became just as close of friends as Denny and I. Hell, I think Denny likes him more than me. But, I wouldn’t ever have it any other way.
"Do you want to take the back roads?" Henry asks, stopping at the doorway for us to pull our shoes and coats on.
"It'll be quicker," I agree, slipping on my sneakers that Henry kicked in my direction.
I watch him grab his heavy coat and slide it across his narrow shoulders. There’s a five ‘o’clock shadow across the better part of his jaw, but I like him scruffy. He glances up to me and rolls his eyes playfully.
"Alright then, come on. I don't have time to wait for you!" he teases before opening the front door.
The bitter cold hits me in the face, causing a sudden shudder to run throughout my entire body. I hate living in Alabama sometimes. Between the humidity and the erratic weather, it can be a very unbearable place to live. Even the winters have a certain bite to them, the damp air feeling as though there's a million slivers of ice traveling down into my lungs.
"Don't act like you're the one in a rush now," I chuckle, speed walking to the car to evade the cold weather.
"I'm always in a rush to please my lady," Henry says with a bow before opening my door for me.
If I could swoon, I would right now. There's nothing more that I want in life than the beautiful man before me who has a mischievous glint in his cinnamon colored eyes….
We quickly get on the road, luckily able to avoid any traffic since it’s still early. Most of the residents of our small town are still in their beds, resting before they start their nine-to-five jobs. It’s nearly a thirty minute drive from our house to the airport, so I get comfortable in my seat and crank the radio up.
The warm heat blasting through the vents and the sound of wind rushing by the car nearly lulls me back to sleep. I don't know why Denny scheduled such an early flight. Maybe he has the time zones mixed up and doesn't realize that he asked us to pick him up at the butt-crack of dawn.
It's just an ordinary winter morning, but something tells me that today will be the beginning of something different.
Maybe Denny will decide to stay home for good. I think it's time that reality touched down in that wandering mind of his. Sure, it would be great to travel the world for a while, but it's been six years. Where else in the world can he go? It's time for Dennis Walker to settle down. Hell, he will never be the kind to stay put, but maybe he can have a permanent residence for more than a year at a time.
I look up, smiling as I spy the sun barely breaking the horizon. Crimson and violet hues combine, creating a breathtaking masterpiece in the sky. It's such a contrast to the scenery surrounding us. When winter comes along, everything dies and becomes shades of grey and brown, but not the sky. Nothing can kill the vibrant colors of the heavens. It's a shame that we don't wake up this early more often, sunrises are something that I've always loved watching, but so hard to see. Maybe I should thank Denny for picking such an early flight after all.
I contemplate taking a picture of the sunrise, but change my mind when I remember my purse containing my phone is in the back seat, exactly where I tossed in in a haphazard attempt to get the hell out of the cold. I stretch my legs, appreciating all the leg space that decision saved me.
The comforting, yet hauntingly beautiful sound of a man’s voice echoes throughout the cabin of the car and I smile. My body relaxes into the cool leather seat and I begin tapping my fingers against my leg to the slow tempo of the song. My heart warms the moment I feel Henry’s fingers wrap around my own.
I feel my nerves begin to settle instantaneously and I squeeze his hand. My eyes close and I lean my head back against the headrest.
Henry reaches forward to turn the heat down a bit. "Do you think we'll have time to stop for a bite to eat?"
"His flight will be landing any minute now," I tell him as I glance at the clock on the dash, "By the time we get there, he'll probably already be waiting on us. Do you really want to explain to him that we're late because you couldn't wait to eat?"
"But, we could bring him some food. It could be a welcome home present!" Henry whines. God, I think the loves in his life are food, cars, and then me…. In that exact order.
"Honey, we can wait. You won't die," I sigh, rubbing my temples in frustration.
I know he does stuff like this just to get a rise out of me. If it were up to Henry, he'd be late to his own funeral and I couldn't be any more opposite. But, what’s the fun in a relationship when you don’t want to throttle each other from time to time?
"In other words, don't pay attention to the speed limit?" Henry asks with a mischievous and hopeful smile, the dimple in his cheek appearing.
"Just don't
get a speeding ticket," I chuckle before making a point to put on my seat belt. He knows that I can't say no to that sinfully innocent dimple and uses it against me all the time.
An excited hum passes his lips as he expertly shifts the car into a higher gear and I feel the sudden acceleration flatten me against the passenger seat. Henry glances at me appreciatively and gives me a quick nod. I haven’t been able to understand his love for old muscle cars, nor have I ever learned how to drive one.
His car is a funny little thing, one part car the other something closely resemling a pickup truck. It's called an El Camino and I believe he loves ‘her’ more than me. He tried to teach me how to drive it on a few occasions, but after stalling the motor a couple dozen times...my driving privileges have officially been revoked. He forbids me from getting back behind the wheel because I apparently tried to 'kill his baby'.
But, I can't complain. I like it when he drives, but not so much when he's speeding along the highway like a mad man. It makes him happy though and I give into his urges from time to time. Especially if it assures that we aren't going to be late for something. It also makes me wonder. If the man likes speeding so much, how in the world is he late to everything?
"Take it easy, Baby!" I hiss when I look over to the speedometer and see that he's quickly approaching a triple digit speed.
"Oh shit, thanks!" he curses before slowing down a bit, his eyes darting to the speedometer.
We sit in a comfortable silence for a few minutes and I take the time to appreciate my life. Things are as they should be. School's coming to a close and I'll only have a few semesters left before I'm officially done with the college life. I've been so busy studying for my finals and working that I've barely seen Henry in the last few weeks. It's a sad fact that the most I've seen him has been while brushing my teeth in the mornings.
Saturdays have been our only chance to spend quality time together. This one though, it's a nice change. At least Henry will have some company while I'm busy during the next few weeks. Maybe he and Denny can finally get some of the things accomplished around the house that I've been begging for the last several months. Like the front porch steps. I swear I'm going to break my neck one day when they cave out beneath me.