Claimed by Love (A Rizer Pack Shifter Series Book 3)

by Wilson, Amelia

  Theyn held out his hand again as the energy around his scales turned into white-hot tongues of flame. He was unaffected by the fire, but the heat drove the humans back. Their bullets would not penetrate his skin, and he was not slowing.

  Again, he said, “Enough!”

  He pushed both hands out in front of him, and twin columns of fire shot out of his palms, intertwining and merging into one. The control room exploded in a shower of sparks, and the monitors and all of the computers died a miserable, melting death. The flame extended, burning a hole through the wall, and through the wall behind that one. None of the human guards remained standing.

  Theyn dropped his hands, and the fire that laced his skin receded into a faint glow. He turned to face them, and his face was terrible in its ferocious beauty.

  Beno pressed his fist to his heart. Beside him, Elina and Nima echoed the gesture.

  Theyn spoke, and his voice was deeper and more resonant than before. “My people suffer and I will not tolerate more of this.”

  Sera moved forward, passing the stunned reverence of her Ylian companions and the confusion of her human friends. She looked into his eyes as she approached, and he looked back, stoic.

  “Do you know me, Theyn?” she asked. “Do you recognize me?”

  He faltered for a moment, and the glowing in his eyes subsided. The light around his scales disappeared, and the moment passed, leaving Theyn standing in amazement. “Sera?” His voice was quiet again, and when he looked down at her abdomen, tears sprang to his eyes. “The baby is so big! Has it been that long?”

  She embraced him, and then Beno was there, too, holding them both in his powerful arms. Asa put his arm around Joely, who leaned into him in relief.

  Elina gave them a moment, then went to power up the shuttle. She beckoned their human friends to follow her, and they did. After a moment more, Nima interrupted the mates’ embrace.

  “There are more soldiers coming, and this is not a safe place to linger, Your Highness,” she told Theyn. “Please… let us take you out of here.”

  He nodded. “Yes. Let’s go somewhere safe.”

  She nodded, and they boarded the shuttle for the getaway.

  The shuttle took them to another green meadow, this one in the valley between two peaks in the Ural mountain range. The pastoral beauty was only slightly marred by the towering structure of a camouflage unit that rose hundreds of feet into the air. Dozens of workers scaled its sides, adjusting the thousands of crystals that made up the glittering sides of the planet’s next line of defense.

  There was a landing strip with four other shuttles, and full-blooded Ylians came and went, their scales and eyes shining in the sun. The air smelled pure and clean, and the very ground felt sacred.

  Theyn had been quiet since their departure, and Beno slept for the majority of the flight. Sera sat between them, comforting them and being comforted by close contact with the men she loved. The baby had settled down into a sleepy contentment, and now that they had landed, she was quiet.

  A blue-eyed hybrid woman met them when the shuttle’s hatch opened, leading a team of other hybrids, most of them with golden eyes. They helped Theyn and Beno onto hovering stretchers and bore them into a glass-sided building near the airstrip.

  Nima walked with Sera as they followed the medical team. “They will take good care of them, I promise you.”

  “They had better.”

  Epilogue

  They never told her what the human scientists had done to them, but it took over two weeks for them to heal from their ordeal, even with advanced Ylian medicines sent from Bruthes. The three of them were given a beautiful apartment overlooking a clear alpine lake, where the water sparkled in the light of the sun like a field of strewn diamonds. They had a kitchen, a comfortable sitting room, a deep and luxurious bath tub, and a nursery prepared for the baby’s imminent arrival. Their own room was graced with a huge bed, bigger than any king-sized mattress that Sera had ever seen, and the place was all light and air and welcome.

  Asa and Joely were given the option of separate apartments of their own, but citing concerns for conservation of resources, they chose to room together. Sera wasn’t fooled for one minute.

  The scaly patches on her hands continued to grow, until they extended up her arms and over her shoulders, chest and back. They were golden and iridescent, and she felt like she was wearing some kind of organic jewelry when they twinkled in the light. She wondered if this was just part of being pregnant with an Ylian child, or if she had somehow been permanently changed.

  On the day the camouflage unit was completed and the Earth was finally hidden from Taluan eyes, when the sun was warm and the breeze light, Sera went into labor. The medical team came to her, and in accordance with Ylian norms, she was put into the deep tub with her mates at her side.

  The water seemed to help her pain and eased the contractions. Theyn and Beno did everything they could to soothe and support her, from rubbing her back to mopping her sweaty brow with cool cloths. Joely sat on the edge of the tub and tried to function as her Lamaze coach, but she did it poorly, so eventually she just opted for giving moral support.

  It was in the early hours before dawn when their daughter was born. She had Beno’s chocolate skin, Sera’s blonde curls, and despite the fact that she should have been a hybrid, she had Theyn’s completely blue, shining eyes. She was born without crying, and when they brought her up out of the water, she clung to Sera’s chest and snuggled peacefully. Both of her fathers stroked her long golden hair, and she gripped their fingers, responding to both to of their voices when they spoke to her.

  They named her Kira. As Sera held her newborn daughter, safe in the arms of the men she adored, she wept with the joy and beauty of it all.

  She kissed Kira’s forehead and whispered in her softest voice.

  “Welcome home.”

  THE TRUTH IN LIES

  The Truth in Lies

  A TALE OF MANN

  By:

  Amelia Wilson

  Copyright  2016 by Amelia Wilson

  All rights reserved.

  In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited, and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.

  Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.

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  Click here to get started with first book in series. “Rune Sword” is a stand-alone full length Paranormal Vampire Romance with an HEA.:

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  Contents:

  Copyright

  Intro to Sedayval

  Chapter1: Commune

  Chapter 2: The Rumor

  Chapter 3: Family

  Chapter 4: Festival

  Chapter 5: The Truth

  Chapter 6: Confrontation

  Chapter 7: Chaos

  Chapter 8: Reveal

  Chapter 7: Epilogue

  Intro to Sedayval

  The Legend says that Maan herself came from the heavens, to partake in the war. She used Queen Vahana I’s body as a vessel, as the emissary to the people. With Queen Vahana’s union to the goddess Maan, they ent
ered the war. Emerging victorious, she banished the Dragon Knights of Shando to the East, and dispersed the rest of her enemies into the Enmei province in the North, and the Xera continent in the South. To further remind her enemies of the greatness of her power, Maan carved out a huge piece of land from the earth, and brought it into the sky.

  Thus, the modern floating city of Sedayval was created.

  Maan herself ascended once more into the heavens and left behind a fragment of her heart, the Jewel of Maan, to ensure Sedayval continued to prosper in her absence.

  The Festival of Providence was created in Maan’s honor, to remind her enemies of her greatness. Maan did not believe in imposing her beliefs upon others. But, she was adequately shrewd, and in her words to the first High Priestess of Maan, she had said:

  “Let my enemies into the city I have created, for they must see what the believers of Maan are capable of. Show neither hate nor candor to them, for they need to see what these negative human emotions are capable of rendering within the human race. Greet the enemy as you greet a friend, and in doing so, they will understand the true nature of Maan.”

  And that was how the Festival of Providence came to be.

  The people of Enmei and Xera, ever since, were amiable towards the city of Sedayval, having economic relations with its people for hundreds of years. Though the foundation of the relationship was built on war, the past seemed to have been put behind them. The Dragons Knights of Shando however, kept to themselves for three centuries, never to be heard of again. Rumors over the years came with whispers that they were plotting for another war, but even those were discarded, until recently.

  The most distressing news of all, was their sudden interest in coming into Sedayval for the Festival of Providence.

  Chapter1: Commune

  The floating orbs of light illuminated the sides of the street with an unwavering intensity that outshone the full moon in the sky. Halfway through its journey across the black canvas of space, the white moon was the brightest it would be for the year, heralding the Festival of Providence.

  Shera quickened her pace. She had to hurry. The Priestesses of Maan did not take kindly to tardiness.

  She made a left turn at the junction, almost colliding head first into an old man.

  “Watch it!” he shouted at her.

  “Sorry about that!” Shera exclaimed, already more than ten feet away from the dazed old man.

  Her long, flowing white cloth trailed behind her like curtained wisps. Those who saw her approaching from the high street nudged each other, amused at the unseemly sight of the Young Acolyte of Maan. The sight of her hands lifting at the hems of her heavy skirt, feet stomping through the clean pavements, the earlier coiffed hair now weighing heavily at the back of the head, made them smirk.

  Shera could not care less.

  “Out of the way!” she barked at the small group of people occupying the middle of the street. Just beyond them was the dome shaped Temple of Maan. The gatherers gave a startled jump and parted to make way for her trajectory.

  “Late again, Shera?” an old street peddler cackled as the Acolyte rushed past. “Better have an excuse this time!”

  “Oh, shut up!” she rasped, too breathless to throw the merchant an angrier retort.

  Reaching the entrance of the temple, she straightened her ruffled dress and wound the white, wispy cloth around her neck. Catching her reflection in the reflective surface of the Temple doors, Shera was horrified to see beads of sweat spattered on her forehead, some already flowing in perfect rivulets at the side of her head. She hoped that the High Priestess would not notice her harried features from where she stood.

  Two peals of the bell rang, signaling the beginning of Commune.

  “Maan’s tits!” Shera cursed under her breath. Wiping her feet at the cloth in front of the temple, she stepped into the marble blue structure, her bare feet producing a streak of dirt on the earlier white footcloth.

  Hands clasped like the upturned shell of a crab’s, she recited the entrance prayer of the temple.

  “Invoke, Lead, Disperse,” Shera said under her breath. The runes on her forearms glowed, and she touched the tip of her index fingers against the bronzed entrance door.

  The mechanisms in the door and walls began to turn, its metallic hands clicking against one another. Reacting to her latent powers, the blue glow of her index finger spread along the grooves on the door. Rune symbols appeared on the door just as Shera had intoned. After a few seconds of heavy cogwheels turning, the door opened with a metallic sigh and Shera entered quietly.

  Her exposed soles prickled against the cold temple floor. The paintings of Queen Vahana I on the blue walls seemed to judge her every step. Keeping her head down, Shera could not help but feel that she was being watched by the first vessel of Maan.

  Priestesses and Acolytes were already at the center of the hall. Commune was just about to begin. The Young Acolytes, clad in robes of white and blue, were converging to the middle of the wide hall. Shera stepped off the ledge of the steps leading to the prayer hall. The marbled columns lining the perimeter of the hall were sturdy and they glowed in a lifelike manner, almost mimicking that of a heartbeat. The lined, gaped palisades held the sturdy ceiling over them. Beyond the columns, Shera could appreciate the pristine, naked night sky, without the hint of clouds.

  “Young Acolyte Shera!” a voice barked from her right.

  Shera gave out a startled jump and found herself facing a tall, middle-aged Priestess, Abandi.

  “Late again!” Abandi said, snapping her fingers for Shera to join the other Young Acolytes in the middle of the hall.

  The Young Acolyte bowed and extended her hands, palms upwards in a diamond formation, a sign of her apology. “Beg your pardon, Priestess Abandi. It is the anniversary of my mother’s death. My father insisted that we visited her resting place tonight.”

  Abandi’s earlier gruff voice softened considerably when she spoke. “Oh, well, that… that is bound to happen. Now go, join the others before High Priestess Iktai rains down Maan’s displeasure on your tardiness again.”

  There was no chatter in the middle of the hall, merely the rustles of feet and cloths brushing against the flesh of their skin. The other Young Acolytes moved fluidly, as though controlled by the intense gaze of the High Priestess watching from the altar set high above in front of them. Though silent, the Young Acolytes were curiously fidgety. The High Priestess had called for a sudden Commune just an hour ago. Never had High Priestess Iktai done such a thing, often choosing to announce a day of Commune at least five days before they met.

  High Priestess Iktai stood in her robes of white and green. The clothes, weaved by magic and cotton, changed its colors and design to Iktai’s whim. Her right hand held on to a staff which shone brilliantly at its spherical tip. With hawk-like eyes, she visually preened at the Young Acolytes arranging themselves in front of her. The symbol of the religious leader of Sedayval, the High Priestess’s power was only second to Queen Vahana IV in the matters of administration.

  Shera immersed herself into the sea of white and blue, effortlessly gliding through the other Acolytes, who were already beginning to show an ecclesiastical inertia from their earlier movements. Only their white, flowing neck cloths flew to the trajectory of the night’s wind. The faces of the Young Acolytes were now painted with the glorification of their leader in front of them. Moving behind a row of Young Acolytes, Shera knew that they would not provide the best protection from Iktai’s strict eyes. Shera was easily one of the tallest Young Acolytes in Commune. But no voice of displeasure came from the pedestal high above.

  Sighing with relief, Shera found her designated spot next to Iman. Immediately, a fresh wave of dislike washed over her. Iman, the red-haired, petite Young Acolyte was considered the pinnacle of perfection. At least that was what the other Priestesses said. Iman spoke only when she was spoken to, and she never questioned the teachings of Maan. It was not that she was a person without curiosity; it was ju
st that Iman absorbed the teachings of Maan with an obsessive acceptance. To Iman, the only truth in the world was the truth flowing through the lips of High Priestess Iktai.

  Another peal of bell rang through the prayer hall, signaling the beginning of Commune. Without being told, the Young Acolytes prostrated themselves in front of the High Priestess.

  As her lips touched the cold, marble floor, Shera heard Iman whisper at her.

  “Tardiness is the devil in the court of Maan.”

  “Tardiness is just not arriving on time,” Shera replied quietly, her eyes an inch from the ground. “Stop being so dramatic.”

  From the corner of her eye, she saw Iman flinch at her irreverent retort. The red-haired acolyte’s eyes were tightly shut, as though Shera’s words felt like a hit knife twisting underneath her skin. No words came from Iman, and Shera breathed out a sigh of relief; she was not in the mood for another philosophical argument with a disciple who accepted everything and questioned nothing.

  Iman used High Priestess Iktai’s favoritism over her as a tool of popularity, to spread nasty rumors about Shera. There was no doubt in Shera’s mind that Iman would inform the others of Shera’s earlier impoliteness. Knowing the Young Acolyte’s propensity for exaggeration, it would probably reach the High Priestess’ ears, too. Shera was already an abhorrent figure amongst the other Young Acolytes; it would not take much for Iman to convince them of Shera’s grating remarks. But, Shera did not care. It had been a rough night for her. The first anniversary of her mother’s death was still weighing heavily in her mind, reminded of the fact that it had been a year since she lost her greatest supporter.