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

by Wilson, Amelia

  But now, at the presence of this man in her house, Shera could not help but feel an ineffable attraction towards him. True, he was dashing, but Shera had been approached by many beautiful men before. There was that intangible quality in him that she found most appealing.

  He walked around the living room, his two thin, long silvery chains diagonally crossing his torso. They clinked against his beautifully spun leather armor. Upon closer inspection, Shera noticed that they weren’t armor. The green, rough, scale-like texture on his body was in fact his scale.

  She beckoned him to the table where she poured him a glass of wine. He smelt at it and let out a contented sigh.

  “My name is Vahren,” he said, sipping at the Shandorian wine. Licking his lips at its delicious, familiar taste, he leaned back against the chair with a more relaxed demeanor. He seemed intent at looking at Shera’s eyes, captivated by their colors.

  “Shera,” she said, pouring him another small helping.

  “I was looking for the home of Irinde Guim. They told me that she used to stay around here. They told me that Irinde had a daughter who had cloudy eyes like mine too. Are you her daughter?”

  Shera nodded. “My mother died last year.”

  Vahren leaned forward, his index finger caressing the stem of the wineglass. “I know. That is why I came. I am here looking for something.”

  Shera looked at him in surprise. “What is it?”

  “The Jewel of Maan.”

  *

  His words were still echoing in her mind even after a day. Vahren did not have time to explain his purpose for Damas also returned. He was surprised to see a delegate in his house, a Shandorian at that. In his excitement, he took a reluctant Vahren out for a drink that night.

  Shera had no choice but to remain silent. She wanted to ask him about his motivations in coming to Sedayval. Why would a Shandorian be looking for the Jewel of Maan? Were the rumors true – did he want to destroy Sedayval’s prime energy source?

  The atmosphere at the dinner table was subdued that night. Shera served the cooked chicken and mashed chickpeas before sitting next to Andel. Her lover appeared as a form of appeasement, but was enraged instead to find the Shandorian man in their house.

  Vahren sat in front of her, silently lifting a few spoonful of chickpeas onto his plate. He was determined to not look at her. Shera’s father chewed his food silently. If he was uncomfortable with Vahren’s presence, he did not show it. Andel tried to make small talk with Damas and Shera, but was only met with a grunt, and monosyllabic murmurs from the father and daughter. Occasionally, he threw an oblivious Vahren a nasty stare, jealous of his presence in Shera’s home.

  “Great chickpeas,” Vahren said after a few minutes of eating.

  “How have you found your stay here in Sedayval?” Damas asked, picking up another piece of chicken from the middle of the table. “Would you consider coming back for the next festival?”

  “After they have destroyed Enmei? They would probably invade Xera before coming for us,” Andel answered smugly.

  “Andel!” Shera cautioned.

  Andel’s hateful eyes were fixed directly at Vahren. “You just wait, Damas. You think their kind is here for peaceful reasons?”

  Vahren put his spoon down on the table and looked calmly at Andel. The red streak on his hair seemed to glow, as though enraged by Andel’s remarks, but his face had on a smile. “As usual, the Academician thinks he knows all about the world because he has read a few books.”

  “I have travelled the continent!” Andel exclaimed, slamming a fist on the table.

  “Really, Andel, there is no need for such passion at the dinner table!” Damas retorted, surprised with the usually quiet academician’s now alarming behavior.

  “I have even been to the eastern region, near Shando lands!”

  “Where exactly?” Vahren challenged, the smile on his lips thinning.

  “He has done some cartography research in the eastern town of Ben-Airo,” Shera answered calmly, trying to alleviate the heated argument. But Vahren made it worse by laughing.

  “You call that ‘near’ Shando territory? Please,” he waved his hand in amusement. “You have not even scaled the mountains that separate your region from ours.”

  Andel gripped at his spoon, unable to think of a retort. Damas was intent on numbing himself from the drama, and had already begun downing his third glass of wine. Shera looked at Andel’s bespectacled angry face, alternated with Vahren’s calmness though his hands were balled on the surface of the table. It was clear that both men were at the verge of a fistfight.

  “Andel, let’s not speak of this now. Vahren is a guest in our home, in our city. You are being rude.”

  “Easy for you to say, Shera,” Andel spat. “All you know is your useless Maan. You don’t know how violent their kind can be right here.”

  “What did you say?” Vahren’s voice suddenly changed. His face darkened, and his eyes narrowed dangerously.

  Shera was surprised to hear the cold fury dripping forth from Vahren’s lips. What had Andel said that made him angry?

  “I said, she does not know how violent you can be—”

  “No, before that. About Maan. Did you just call her useless?”

  Andel rolled his eyes, and laughed out with mirth. “Oh, for the love of Maan. Not you too? You actually believe that Maan exists? You – a dragon knight of Shando believe all the crap about the Goddess, and the Jewel of Maan in the—”

  Shera screamed. Vahren moved with such speed that his hands seem to vanish from the table and reappear in front of Andel’s face. There was an audible snap and thud, and Andel was knocked off his chair. He howled in pain, clutching at his bleeding nose.

  Nose swollen and bloody, he uttered a string of incomprehensible profanities. Damas, numb from the Pruvane wine, looked at the entire scene with an amused look on his face. Shera was shocked to see the look of rage on Vahren’s face. It was as if Andel had gravely insulted a family member. He was stunned for a moment at what he had done. Mumbling an apology, he rose from his chair and walked out of the kitchen. Shera had no choice but to help Andel to his feet. The tears were streaming down his face, as the blood caked around his fingers and broken nose. Her hand haphazardly touched at the table, looking for a piece of cloth to stem the bleeding when Andel screamed incoherent at her face.

  She was too numb from the earlier shock to be startled by Andel’s impotent rage. Coldly, she looked at him and said, “Well, you deserved it,” and proceeded to chase after Vahren, leaving her half-drunk father and injured Andel in the kitchen.

  The front door of their home was still open, and Vahren’s satchel was missing from the hook on the wall. Shera ran out the door and saw his hunched figure making its way up the street.

  “Vahren!” Shera yelled, catching up with him.

  He did not turn to look at her. Continuing his steady pace, he planted his gaze at the steps in front of him. Having no choice, Shera walked next to him, a little scared to hold his hands. She noticed that his right hand was still balled up in a fist. They were alone together in the quiet street. Families were just about to sit and dine, their doors open. A cat meowed somewhere.

  The western sea was splayed across the horizons in a rippling canvas of shining blackness, having swallowed the sun for the day. He would return to Shando in two days. Shera realized then that she did not want him to leave Sedayval. She refused to come to terms that he would leave her.

  “I’m sorry for ruining dinner,” he muttered. “Especially when you were excited to have your father back.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Andel deserved it.”

  Vahren gave out a murmur of assent as they walked up the street to the western star point.

  “I won’t bother you anymore after this. My friend is staying near the Central Square, and his host family has an extra spot for another delegate. I will go stay with her then.”

  The Western Star Point was a small park at the perimeter of Sedayval. P
arapets were built around the border to prevent children and discombobulated geriatrics from running off the edge of Sedayval into the deep sea six hundred feet below the city. But for lovebirds and poets and artists, the top ledge served as a beautiful spot to overlook the breadth of the horizon in front of them. The ledge was abutted by a small graveyard where her mother’s ashes had been spread. It was often here she came to when she was overcome by a melancholic emotion of her mother’s passing.

  Vahren easily climbed up the cracks on the wall and stood on the parapet. He coaxed her to do the same. She was hesitant.

  “What? Too scared?”

  “I’m not supposed to do that. I am a Young Acolyte.”

  “For Maan’s sake, Shera, who cares?” he smiled. It was the first time she the smile appear on his face. It was not a superior smirk, nor was it a cocky grin. It was warm, and the fine crinkles on his eyes broke something within her. It was as if a sledgehammer had destroyed an insurmountable wall she had built over the years.

  Shera looked around. There was usually no one at the western star point at this hour, and the guards rarely patrolled this area. They were more focused at the Central Square and the adjacent districts anyway. Mimicking Vahren’s moves, she dug her fingers into the small cracks on the wall and began climbing, the edges of her toes struggling to find some leverage at the small gaps between two bricks. Vahren helped her up halfway, easily hoisting her right arm without losing a breath. When she reached the top, she was greeted with a wild gust of salty wind. Vahren sat there, with his face considerably relaxed. All thoughts of the earlier incident were effaced from their minds.

  “It is so ironic that living in a floating city can make you feel imprisoned. I always thought that the people of Sedayval would have the best views in the whole, wide world, but even that is impossible with this huge wall.”

  Shera laughed. “As dad usually says, no matter where you live in this world, you have to be rich, or lucky to be afforded a real nice view from your home. Prime real estate is a rule that transcends magic.”

  “Shando isn’t like this though,” he said quietly.

  For the years that her mother had been alive, SHera had never asked her about life in the lesser known Eastern region. Her mother too, was often too quiet about her life in Shando.

  “What is it like over there?”

  “We have Academies, libraries, but there isn’t a castle. Everyone is given a small piece of land that they work on to supplement their lifestyle. We rely on the lava from the Adhani Volcano for our lands to be fertile. And in the cold winters, we morph and enter the deep crevices of the Adhani Chasm where it is warm. Our families hibernate there for months at ends until the first flower of spring buds.”

  “Must be great,” Shera sighed. “To be able to form into a winged creature and just fly off to your heart’s content.”

  It was Vahren’s turn to look at her with skepticism. “Dragon Morphology is a complex magic. I cannot just simply morph to become a dragon on my own.”

  Shera was surprised by this. “But I thought that was what you could do? You can transform into a dragon, hence the term, a Dragon Knight.”

  Vahren tilted his head and deliberated his sentence. “Yes… and no. It is true that we can transform into dragons. But the exact transformation isn’t as simple as you think it is. It takes the collective energies and consciousness of a few of us to become one dragon.”

  Shera’s eyes widened in amazement. “You join bodies?”

  Vahren nodded. “And minds. And Souls. The magic system for our morphology isn’t too easy. But, it is the way we have lived in Shando. During winter, when it gets too cold for everyone in Shando, the senior Dragon Weavers stitch the patterns needed for our fusion.”

  Shera straightened her buttocks against the ledge and planted her hands on Vahren’s knees in excitement. “This is so interesting. Do you all form one great big dragon? Can you choose who you want to fuse with?”

  “Well, there are many rules to Dragon Morphology. Nothing is set in stone, and even you and I can fuse, with the right pattern and spell. But, since you aren’t used to the nature of dragons, our fusion might be unstable. To form a strong, resilient, and even cohesively functioning great lizard, the minds of its parts have to be synchronized.”

  He proceeded to tell her of the time when Shando was attacked by an extremely distant enemy thousands of miles off the Vera Continent. The Air Pirates were a notorious bunch, bent of conquering the Vera Continent. Believers of a different sect of gods altogether, their ultimate goal was to reach Sedayval, to put an end to the rule of Maan in the utopian society.

  “Sixty of us fused to become three great dragons,” Vahren said, a reminiscent smile appearing on his face. “it was a great battle. They were a half-a-million strong army, but we battled them and won.”

  They sat there quietly. Shera wondered how she was going to confess her feelings towards Vahren.

  “Anyway, thank you for defending me with Andel tonight. You didn’t have to.”

  Vahren looked at her with a mild look of puzzlement. “I didn’t do it to defend you. He insulted Maan, and more importantly, he dared to insult the ‘Jewel of Maan.’

  “Why would that offend you greatly?”

  “Because the Jewel of Maan exists.” Vahren deadpanned. “And it belongs to us.”

  Chapter 5: The Truth

  “You are being ridiculous. The Jewel of Maan is the property of Sedayval. This–” Shera rolled up her sleeves to reveal the runes on her arms “— I am a Young Acolyte sworn to be the vessel of the Jewel!”

  Vahren listened calmly and spoke. “You may assume that. And I don’t blame you. But the Jewel isn’t yours, nor is it Sedayval’s. It belongs to the Shandorians. And I am here to take it back.”

  Shera had never been in battle. Her experiences with fights were limited to the occasional spars with other Acolytes during training. But, this was different. The sanctity of the Jewel was being threatened, and it was her duty to prevent this stranger from making his motivations a reality.

  The runes on her arms glowed, though not at the same level as Iktai’s. Regardless, Vahren’s body tensed at the sight of them. He tried to reach for a small dagger at his belt loop, but Shera was quick to pull the weapon away from him with her telekinetic powers. He watched impotently as his weapon orbited Shera’s body, channeled by the power of the Jewel coursing through her.

  The pulsating power of the Jewel flowed through Shera like an old, but distant friend. She was tempted to let out a burst of energy to knock Vahren unconscious, and report him to the guards.

  “You will leave Sedayval immediately, Vahren. There will be no talk of stealing the Jewel from out of our city.”

  Vahren placed both his hands up in the air to concede defeat. Still, his face was resolute. “The Jewel of Maan is not what you think it is, Young Acolyte. You easily harness its power, yet you know not its true nature.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Please, allow me time to explain. I mean you no harm,” he replied. To prove this, he reached into his scales, which parted to reveal the rippling muscles of his body. Attached to his skin was a small piece of paper, which he removed. It was tied to his skin by a binding magic, which allowed only the owner of the body to remove it – to prevent the letter from falling into the wrong hands. He threw the letter on the table.

  The glow on Shera’s arms vanished, and her powers dissipated when she saw her mother’s familiar handwriting on the paper. It was addressed to Godema of Shando. Vahren’s dagger, which had been lazily orbiting Shera, dropped onto the floor in a thud as the telekinesis sustaining its projection was now gone.

  “This was written on the 15th day of Yupol 321,” Vahren said.

  “Two days before she died…” Shera’s tone was hushed. That was impossible. Towards the final weeks of her life, her mother was too weak to even eat, let alone lift up a quill to pen a letter. Yet, there it was; her handwriting on the paper

  She
ra looked at the letter, then at Vahren. These were her mother’s last words, and they were written just before she died.

  Godema,

  I am writing this to you on my deathbed. I hope your anger will be extinguished by the fact that I have not much time left on this earth. First, forgive me for not keeping in touch all these years. If there is one regret I have in this lifetime, it is not writing to you much sooner.

  I have had the opportunity of seeing the world. And it is just as I had expected it. The entire western continent to Shando is full of life, magic, opportunity. But nothing would have prepared me for the city of Sedayval.