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Twin Soul Series Omnibus 1: Books 1-5 (Twin Soul Series Book Sets)

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by McCaffrey-Winner




  Twin Soul Series

  Winner Twins

  and

  Todd McCaffrey

  Books 1-5

  Boxed Set

  Winter Wyvern Copyright © 2018 by Brianna Winner, Brittany Winner, and Todd J. McCaffrey. Second Edition.

  Cloud Conqueror Copyright © 2018 by Brianna Winner, Brittany Winner, and Todd J. McCaffrey. First Edition.

  Frozen Sky Copyright © 2019 by Brianna Winner, Brittany Winner, and Todd J. McCaffrey. Second Edition.

  Wyvern’s fate Copyright © 2019 by Brianna Winner, Brittany Winner, and Todd J. McCaffrey. First Edition.

  Wyvern’s Wrath Copyright © 2019 by Brianna Winner, Brittany Winner, and Todd J. McCaffrey. First Edition.

  Twin Soul Series Boxed Set: Books 1-5 Copyright © 2020 by Brianna Winner, Brittany Winner, and Todd J. McCaffrey. First Edition.

  All Rights Reserved. No parts of this publication may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without prior written permission of the publisher.

  Cover art by Jeff Winner

  Books by The Winner Twins and Todd McCaffrey

  Nonfiction:

  The Write Path: World Building

  Books by McCaffrey-Winner

  Twin Soul Series:

  TS1 - Winter Wyvern

  TS2 - Cloud Conqueror

  TS3 - Frozen Sky

  TS4 - Wyvern’s Fate

  TS5 - Wyvern’s Wrath

  TS6 - Ophidian’s Oath

  TS7 - Snow Serpent

  TS8 - Iron Air

  TS9 - Ophidian’s Honor

  TS10 - Healing Fire

  TS11 - Ophidian’s Tears

  TS12 - Cloud War

  TS13 - Steel Waters

  TS14 - Cursed Mage

  TS15 - Wyvern’s Creed

  TS16 - King’s Challenge

  TS17 - King’s Conquest

  TS18 - King’s Treasure

  Books by The Winner Twins

  Nonfiction:

  The Write Path: Navigating Storytelling

  Science Fiction:

  The Strand Prophecy

  Extinction’s Embrace

  PCT: Perfect Compatibility Test

  Poetry Books by Brianna Winner

  Millennial Madness

  Books by Todd McCaffrey

  Science fiction

  Ellay

  The Jupiter Game

  The Steam Walker

  Collections

  The One Tree of Luna (And Other Stories)

  Dragonriders of Pern® Series

  Dragon’s Kin

  Dragon’s Fire

  Dragon Harper

  Dragonsblood

  Dragonheart

  Dragongirl

  Dragon’s Time

  Sky Dragons

  Non-fiction

  Dragonholder: The Life And Times of Anne McCaffrey

  Dragonwriter: A tribute to Anne McCaffrey and Pern

  Map

  Contents

  Twin Soul Series 1

  Map 6

  Winter Wyvern 10

  Chapter One: The Gift 11

  Chapter Two: Home Again 16

  Chapter Three: Something Lost 18

  Chapter Four: Into Town 20

  Chapter Five: The Shaman 22

  Chapter Six: Hat Pin 24

  Chapter Seven: The Fire 25

  Chapter Eight: More Tea 27

  Chapter Nine: The Thief 29

  Chapter Ten: The Docks 31

  Chapter Eleven: Hello Krea 33

  Chapter Twelve: King’s Jail 35

  Chapter Thirteen: The Fugitive 37

  Chapter Fourteen: Fire Within 39

  Chapter Fifteen: The Edge 43

  Cloud Conqueror 47

  Chapter One: The Airship Spite 48

  Chapter Two: The Crown Prince 51

  Chapter Three: A Cannon’s Fire 54

  Chapter Four: A Bitter Triumph 62

  Chapter Five: The Young Apprentice 67

  Chapter Six: A Wyvern’s Corpse 70

  Chapter Seven: Captain of Nothing 73

  Chapter Eight: A Grave Revisited 77

  Chapter Nine: Meeting The Mechanical 81

  Chapter Ten: Talent Of Mine 87

  Frozen Sky 91

  Chapter One: Half a Wyvern 92

  Chapter Two: Demands 98

  Chapter Three: First Flight 101

  Chapter Four: Action Overhead 105

  Chapter Five: Prize Money 108

  Chapter Six: Payment Made 110

  Chapter Seven: The Bitter North 118

  Chapter Eight: A Witch’s Brew 125

  Chapter Nine: Ophidian’s Coal 132

  Chapter Ten: The Frozen Man 140

  Wyvern’s Fate 147

  Chapter One: Flight 148

  Chapter Two: Meetings 151

  Chapter Three: Wymarc 155

  Chapter Four: The Chore 158

  Chapter Five: Wandering 163

  Chapter Six: The Bite 167

  Chapter Seven: Krea’s Room 172

  Chapter Eight: Terric’s Words 175

  Chapter Nine: Gifts 179

  Wyvern’s Wrath 184

  Chapter One: Find Your God 185

  Chapter Two: Whole New Body 191

  Chapter Three: The Frozen God 196

  Chapter Four: Fountain of Air 198

  Chapter Five: The Wyvern’s Shriek 202

  Chapter Six: Let Them Die 205

  Chapter Seven: Have A Heart 208

  Chapter Eight: House of Life and Death 212

  Chapter Nine: Crown Prince Nestor 216

  About The Twin Soul Series 218

  Acknowledgements 219

  About the Authors 220

  Winter Wyvern

  Book 1

  Twin Soul series

  Chapter One: The Gift

  Krea was bored, and when she was bored bad things always followed. The last time she’d been bored she tried making a sword to prove that she could be a blacksmith just like her father. But, as she hammered the red-hot metal, it jumped out of her tongs, flew into the kitchen and nearly burned the whole house down. The only good thing that had come of that was Smudge, the cat, who’d been so frightened that it had raced out of the barn and right into Krea’s arms, where it promptly bit her.

  “Serves you right,” her father had said later. “At least the cat’s not poisonous.”

  The time before that she decided to take a poisonous spider as a pet, which bit her and — if not for the help of the local shaman — would have killed her in a matter of days.

  The year before, on her fifteenth birthday, she’d taken a hammer and smashed anything that might reflect her face. That was at the end of the same day that several villagers, when her hat had blown off, taking her dark glasses with it, revealing her white hair and skin. Shocked, many of the newer villagers and tourists gawked and shunned her. Though this wasn’t the first time, it hadn’t happened for many years, and it shook her to her core.

  Krea decided that
she never wanted to see herself again. She hated most that she’d shattered the marvelous pan that her father had made her mother as a wedding gift all so many years ago.

  Rabel, her father, had locked her in her room for a week after that. Not long after, he took on Angus as his apprentice. They had taken to talking together outside at the forge for long hours. Occasionally, Rabel would look at Krea and shake his head sadly. Other times he’d point to his daughter, say something and Angus would turn bright red. Angus hardly talked to her and when he did, he stammered. But when he thought she wasn’t looking, he’d stare at her.

  On the eve of her sixteenth birthday, Rabel had pronounced himself satisfied with Angus’ work and told Krea that she would wed Angus the next year. In the months since, Krea had alternately grown more alarmed at the future forced upon her and more intrigued with the young man who would soon be her husband.

  When she was sure he wasn’t looking at her, she’d stare at him. He was strong, and well-built but sturdy in his face – not ugly but not handsome, either.

  Rabel was out with Angus, selling horseshoes to the farmers at the market in town, a good hour away by horseback. Winter was coming so they wanted to sell as much as they could before the snows hindered their travels. Her father had forbidden her from going into the woods surrounding their home. He had made her swear on the names of every god that she would stay inside.

  She’d promised that she’d make the evening meal and had dutifully prepared a shepherd’s pie — father’s favorite. She finished preparing and had it ready for the oven. She tidied up the kitchen, and cleaned up all the dishes with the steam-powered cleaner. She made up all the beds. Swept up all the floors.

  And then she was bored. She relented to Smudge’s insistent crying and gave her one last scrap which the cat ate with much gusto and loud purring. Once Smudge had confirmed that there were no more treats, she flicked her tail up in a huff and left the kitchen, probably seeking out any mice in the barn.

  With a sigh, Krea sat back on the kitchen chair. She realized that everything she’d done she’d soon be doing again every day for the rest of her life… with Angus.

  She went up to her room and to the altar she had for the gods. Everyone had an altar. Some had just a few gods waiting but Krea, because she was young, had a full set of figurines. She smiled as she picked up the figurine of Ametza — the sea goddess of their ocean-side kingdom.

  Ametza stood for faith, fidelity, and all things feminine. A goddess of life, protector of human sailors and those who lived off her bounty. Ametza could be fickle, fearsome, and demanding. But she was also supportive and kind. Krea held the figurine in her hands.

  “Mother Ametza,” Krea said. “It’s me, Krea.” She felt the figurine grow warm in her fingers. The warmth told her the goddess was listening. “I’m bored. And I don’t want to stay inside.” She glanced out the window. The sky was clear and windy leaves were whirling, the trees were nearly bare. Winter would come any day.

  “You understand, don’t you?” Krea said. “I’m to be married soon and then I’ll never get out. You don’t mind, do you? I just want to visit mother’s grave.” She felt that perhaps the mother goddess understood. With a reverent nod, she placed the figurine back among the others.

  She dressed with the utmost care, telling herself that it was in penance rather than admitting it was to ensure that the sun didn’t burn her. She secured her wide-brimmed cream colored hat with her longest hatpin made of swirled silver and pearls— the only treasure from her mother. Her oval silver-rimmed sunglasses were secured with a loop of black velvet ribbon, her hair firmly tucked up inside her hat so that no stray wisps might snag and betray her. Her deep green day dress covered her calf-length walking boots so there was no danger of her being seen as improper if any prying eyes should chance upon her progress.

  Dark things lay in the woods, and they liked to eat young women, her father had said. Krea was certain that he was wrong. Nothing terrible had happened to her— at least anything since she’d broken her leg racing away from strange noises in the woods when she was seven.

  Carefully, Krea looked out from the door of their small brick cottage and peered to either side. She could tell by the sun she had just enough time to walk there and back, before her father returned and the sun set. He would never know. No one was around. The forest was silent. Now was her time to escape.

  She gained the cover of the forest and paused to savor her triumph. Father was wrong! There was nothing to fear!

  A loud noise from above startled her and her heart beat nearly out of her chest, her blood rushing through her veins. A shadow crossed over her and Krea looked up, shrinking back against a tree trunk to hide. A royal airship crossed over her, new and deadly, silent except for the puffs of steam driving its propellers. Dark smoke trailed from it — had it fired its guns? Were they practicing or had they shot at something?

  Krea waited until the airship was out of sight before venturing out from the shade of the tree. She plotted her path away from the airship, back to wherever it had been, her notion of visiting her mother’s grave forgotten with the thrill of the moment.

  Her path led her by the stream next to her home. Krea rounded the corner. She could see flowers ahead. These were not just any flowers. They were Wyvern flowers. Wyvern flowers were light blue, with wide petals, and a honey scent. Krea halted, taking in the view.

  Wyverns were the sort of things the King’s airship had been built to fight. But the wyverns loved these flowers so much they now bore their name. The thought of real, living, red-eyed wyverns terrified but also excited her. Krea had no hopes that she would see one this day: it would be impossible for a wyvern to survive an encounter with the royal airship.

  The wind changed and the smell of the marvelous flowers overwhelmed her. She smiled as the rich honey scent filled her lungs. The surrounding forest was silent. Krea’s smile grew and she threw caution to the winds, rushed into the field, bent down, and inhaled deeply.

  The stalks were up to her waist and the small buds flowered in every imaginable shade of blue. She glided her hands over their soft petals. She was now far from the stream, and was deep into the meadow surrounded by thick green trees. She sat down. Laughing, she grabbed a bunch of flowers and deftly wove them into a wreath that she placed over her hat. Her body tingled, and her eyelids grew heavy. She would just close her eyes for a minute, she decided.

  Or perhaps... five minutes. Just a little while...perhaps a short nap.

  Soon, the honey scent wafted her into a deep dreamless sleep.

  #

  A loud noise woke her. She opened her eyes to find the sky was orange, and the sun was about to set. Her throat tightened and she hopped up, ready to run home.

  She froze when a shadow covered her. Above her was a wyvern, its eyes widened in curiosity.

  Krea found herself seeing every detail of the creature. It had golden scales with swirls that seemed carved into them. Its neck was long and sinuous, its body thin and wiry. It crouched on two powerful legs. Tall horns of ivory bone twisted on either side of its head. Its lower face, spine, and the barbed end of its tail were blood red. Its large red slit eyes scanned her up and down. Then, in an exhausted huff, the wyvern lowered its head into its wings.

  Krea had heard in the village that like dragons, wyverns destroyed towns and ate humans.

  Krea eyed the wyvern, wondering when it would pounce. Or perhaps the villagers were as wrong about it as they were about her?

  There was blood on the blue flowers surrounding the creature. The wyvern was breathing heavily, and bleeding in huge spurts.

  The creature lifted its head again and stared at her. Krea knew that her father would want her to run, to scream, and race back toward home and safety. But Krea saw the blood, saw the gold scales, and looked beyond them, raising her gaze to peer into the creature’s eyes.

  There was pain there, mu
ch. And sadness, too. And something more — kindness.

  The wyvern howled in agony and lowered its head.

  Krea made up her mind: no being should suffer alone, unaided. The pool of blood under the wyvern was growing larger by the minute. She stood up and moved toward the winged beast. “Can I help you?”

  There was a huge gash in one of the wyvern’s legs. The wing on the same side was torn — as though a cannonball had crashed through it and had crushed the leg. The smoke from the airship — it must have fired at this wyvern!

  “Why would you help me, human? What do you want from me?” The wyvern was female, she had a deep silky voice. The voice sounded familiar to Krea, but she could not place it.

  “I don’t understand,” Krea said. “Don’t you want help? You’re in pain! I hate to see you suffer!”

  The creature narrowed her eyes and bared her teeth. Was she angry?

  She has no right to be angry! Krea thought. Aloud, she said, “I won’t stand here and watch you die!”

  The wyvern lowered her head, and at first Krea thought she was laughing. As moments passed she realized that the creature was sobbing. Tears misted Krea’s eyes. She took another step forward: toward the fangs of the dying beast. She peered up at her, “Let me do something, I want to help you!”

  “Child, there is nothing you can do,” the wyvern said. “Do you not know why I came to this meadow?”

  Krea bit her lip: as soon as the wyvern had spoken, she’d guessed the answer. The wyvern’s eyes held hers.

  “We come here to die amongst the scent of honey,” she said. “To die with the blue flowers that bear our name. That is why I’m here.”

  In that moment Krea realized why the wyvern’s voice was so familiar: it sounded like her mother’s. Krea’s eyes filled with tears, her lips creased tightly in pain as images of her mother’s pale gaunt body forced its way into her mind. Not again, she thought.

  She ran forward and wrapped her arms around the wyvern’s thin, scaled neck. The scales were soft, almost silky.

  “I will not let you die alone.”

 

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