A Brush of Her Skin (The Reglashien Book 1)

by April Zyon

  A Brush of Her Skin

  The Reglashien

  By April Zyon

  This Work is fiction. All organizations, events, and characters named or referenced in this work are products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.

  ISBN-10# 1-63581-022-1

  ISBN-13# 978-1-63581-022-6

  © Copyright 2017 April Zyon

  Edited by Vinvatar Publishing

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this work can be used or reproduced without written permission.

  Artwork by Alexis Belle and Vinvatar Designs

  Published by Vinvatar Publishing

  Website: Vinvatar.com

  Previously published as Megan Wilde

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  April Zyon

  Prologue

  Every 200 years the Royals gather their people for the Reglashien, or as it loosely translates- the Coupling Ceremony. During this time, Royals, lords, ladies and commoners mix. Matches are made by the Gods that no one can ever tear asunder. And, when it all comes to a close, twenty-four hours after beginning, they are bound for all time together.

  Not all matches are perfect, not at first or even second glance. Not all make sense, and not all are the same species. But the Gods have a plan for their people and for those that wouldn’t normally have met and mated, this is the time that true magic can and does happen. While many fight it, resist and try to remain aloof, what the Gods’ will to be, will always be. For they know what truly lies in the hearts of their people and will, forever, grant their deepest, darkest desires to come forth and true.

  *****

  Summer Solstice, 2015

  “Are we ready?” King Jemar of the Vampires called out to the crowd. Standing on the large stage, he held his hands in the air as shouts went up. Grinning he waited until they all quieted before continuing. “First off, we of the Vampire Nation would like to thank the Gods for asking us to host the Reglashien. We are honored and humbled to take on an event of this magnitude. Secondly, welcome to the Gods who have graced us with their presence this year. Some will know them, others will not, so a quick introduction.”

  He turned to the beings who were clearly not of Earthen birth. Jemar gave them a bow to which each bowed their heads, slightly. “On the far end, we have Methaniaa, Goddess of Love and very welcome here. Next, we have Groshhen, God of Hearth and Home, always a great addition to our events. Lastly, and this is an amazing honor, we have Broltann, Mother Goddess of them all and Goddess of the Heart.”

  The crowd cheered, many clapping and hollering wildly. Jemar turned back to them with his hands up to shush them. “Last on the list of things to discuss- the rules.” He laughed when a few playful folks booed before laughing. “I know, we all hate to play by the rules, but we need to be on our best behavior. They are watching after all,” he pointed not so subtly over his shoulder to the Gods.

  “Rule number one, any mated couples must be within the house walls before the clock tolls midnight. Rule number two, all unmated folks have twenty-four hours of mixing and mingling to find their matches- sorry, potential matches. Rule number three, matches will only be made between midnight tonight and midnight tomorrow. Twenty-four hours, that’s it, that’s all. And rule number four, the most important, consent must be given by all parties to consummate the mating. Just remember, it’s permanent folks. Which now brings me to my warning.”

  The mood dimmed, as everyone fell silent. Jemar folded his hands at his back and looked out at the crowd. “If you find your mate- or mates- here tonight and touch, even once, yet do not complete the mating before the strike of midnight tomorrow, you will never mate again. I know, it’s harsh, it’s cruel, but it is necessary. While we are accepted easily by the humans and even have some amongst us at our events, our numbers must be maintained with care. That said,” he lifted his hands, and the crowd roared. “May this Reglashien see you all mated and blessed!”

  Chapter One

  Fuck, fuck and fuck again. He couldn’t fucking believe his fucking best friend had dragged him to this nightmare. Thankfully he knew a few other poor saps who’d been dragged to this damned Reglashien. Nodding to a couple he knew, he moved through the crowd.

  While he wasn’t opposed to having a mate, actually he wouldn’t mind, he just didn’t want the baggage that came with a female. After his regretful relationship, or rather, his fucking trainwreck of a relationship, with Serena, he didn’t really want to get tied down forever to another.

  Serena, gah, just thinking about her made his flesh feel too tight and itchy for his body. She’d been a piece of work, to say the least. She was always saying one thing, doing another and then, she quite literally, stabbed him in the back before running off with his brother. ‘Course she’d dumped him not two months out and had hooked up with some other poor sucker. But yeah, one backstabbing female in a lifetime did kind of ruin it for all the rest.

  Shoving his hands through his dark brown and auburn hair, he sighed. He really should just leave; Marcus would never notice, and then he wouldn’t have to worry about a damned thing for another two hundred years. Dropping his hands, he nodded to himself. Yeah, that was a good plan, get the hell out of Dodge before the bell struck and he’d be free and clear of the playing field for two more centuries.

  Turning, with the intent of getting off the Vampire’s estate, he didn’t get more than two feet before coming to a dead stop, his deep blue gaze landing on someone he hadn’t expected. Every instinct in his Lycan body came awake with a roar, and only strict discipline kept him from going for the Vampire’s throat. “Tremayne,” he growled, the beast closer to the surface than he’d prefer.

  Tremayne, Vampire asshole extreme, cocked a pale brow and gave him a condescending half smirk. White-blond hair, mirrored in his eyebrows, pale green eyes and just the faintest of color to his flesh made the Vampire cold all over in appearance. And at nearly the same height as himself, only two inches shorter at only six foot five inches, he was a formidable opponent.

  “Carver,” the Vampire’s cultured tones turned his name into something foreign and mildly creepy if anyone asked him, not that they ever did. “So you’ve finally decided to attend the Reglashien for once in your lifetime. Hoping you’ll get lucky on the first shot?” Damn him and that fucking mocking tone. “Oh, wait,” the Vampire practically purred. “Even better, you were brought here and are now leaving before it even begins. Splendid.”

  Forcing air in and out of his lungs he shrugged. “Figured if you were here then the offerings were likely meager at best; especially considering your particular taste in bedmates.” That barb had struck and hard. Tremayne’s eyes flashed red for a moment before returning to their icy green.

  “Not that it’s any of your business,” Tremayne said, still in that smug tone. “But I’ve decided it is time for me to find my mate and continue my line.”

  Though it hurt to say anything, especially a kind word to this prick, Carver couldn’t stop himself. “I heard about the passing of your sister, my condolences.”

  Tremayne’s expression showed shock. Yeah, yeah, so the big bad wolf had said a kind word. Then the Vampire blinked, and his face was a closed mask again. “Thank you. It was a great loss to us all. She will be terribly missed by all who knew her, but now the duty of carrying on my lineage falls to me, and as my mother o
nce pointed out, what must be done is done for the Vampire Nation to continue strong and pure.”

  Carver cocked a brow at that and screwed up his face. “Dude, that is seriously messed up. You don’t hook up with a mate just to better your people. You do it because it’s what you want. And to have guaranteed hot and wild sex until the end of time, of course.”

  The look on the Vampire’s face had him grinning. “You- you are a disgusting beast and too crude to subject a woman to. You really should leave,” Tremayne muttered glaring at him.

  Hmm, so the Vamp wanted him gone? Interesting. “Nah, maybe I’ll stick it out and see just what kind of mess you make when you start hitting on a woman born in a century where men didn’t own them.” And there was another look, fuck he’d forgotten how much fun it was to twist that stick up Tremayne’s ass.

  Then the Vamp was in his face, nearly nose to nose. Pulling himself up straight so he had the superior height- along with the good looks, thank you very much- Carver waited for him to speak. “Stay out of my way, dog.” Oh, now that hurt. “If not, I’ll ensure you are never able to pleasure yourself, let alone a woman, again. Not that you could anyway with your despicable breeding.”

  “Dude, really? You really want to bring breeding into this? Here? Now? ‘Cause if you do...” Carver let it trail off. Yeah, he knew the secret that Tremayne refused to speak of. His father might be Royal but his mother most definitely had not been. She was a scullery maid if Carver’s memory served.

  Tremayne stepped back and sniffed, his nose in the air. “Stay out of my way, mutt,” he snapped before spinning on a heel and stalking off.

  “Fuck that,” he chuckled. Whistling softly under his breath, Carver stuck his hands in his pockets and followed on the Vampire’s heels. If anything, it would be an entertaining night of pissing off Vamp-man. As long as he avoided touching any of the females, he’d still be single and fancy-free come midnight tomorrow.

  Chapter Two

  She knew that this was trouble; no matter which way she tried to spin it to her overprotective father, she knew that he wasn’t going to understand. She was still a baby to their people’s standards. She was also, sadly, someone that had been protected with the zeal of a true believer. Her family had kept her such a secret that only a very, very small handful of the most trusted of her father's guards knew of her even being alive.

  Slipping unseen through the hidden tunnels in the home that her father had all but imprisoned her in, she moved quietly, almost silently. Pulling her hood up and over her far too noticeable head of hair, she moved through the shadows and past the guards. They had become complacent, just as she had wanted them to. She knew that this was so very bad of her, but she needed to be free, even if only for a single night.

  Granted, tonight was the night of the Reglashien, but she knew that luck had not been her friend, not since her mother had been taken from her and her father had told her exactly who she really was.

  She moved through the throng of people, shifting from here and there so that none could truly see her. She wanted- actually, she needed to remain as much in the shadows as possible, because the moment that anyone saw her unusual hair or even more unusual eyes, they would know exactly who she was; even if none would believe it. After all, her mother hadn’t been known to any. Her mother had been as human as they came.

  No, Jett knew that she would get many looks and any that saw her eyes or hair would know just whose child she was even if they couldn’t balance that knowledge in their minds.

  Moving through the shadows, she found a stall selling long and supple wigs and grinned. Oh yes, this would be good. Choosing one of the long, red-haired wigs she she quickly paid for it and took it.

  Sliding into the shadows, she carefully scanned her surroundings before sliding the cloak’s hood down and as fast as possible, covered her too noticeable, strawberry blond hair; hair that had strands of copper, gold, and silver in it.

  As she adjusted the wig over her hair, she pulled some strands down to shade her eyes- eyes that matched her father's eyes perfectly. Taking a deep breath, she headed off and into the crowd only to hear the last of her father’s speech. She smiled.

  Yes, she knew that she wasn’t going to have a mate, but it was nice to think that her father might actually believe in what he was saying. She loved the man, but he had been suffocating her since her aunt had brought her back to his attention. Yes, he had known she had been born, but she had always been safe in the human realm, far away from beings that could use her against him.

  She bumped into into a blond vampire and bowed her head, and bowed her head. “Apologies.” She moved between the vampire and the large werewolf that he had been having a heated argument with only moments earlier.

  She shifted into the crowds again and turned off toward the fields where there would be plays and games. The Reglashien was not only for finding a mate, but also for those who couldn’t find pleasure of some sort, even if it were a game or ride, like a massive carnival she had gone to when in her mother’s realm.

  Chapter Three

  Tremayne’s gaze followed the little female, his attention wavering off of the wolf. Blinking, he snapped back when he realized Carver was close enough to kill him. He never allowed that, ever. Jerking his head around, he found that Carver’s attention was on the female making her way through the crowd as well.

  He cleared his throat, then had to again to gain the wolf’s attention. “I know you have a thing for blondes, but you need to step back a pace, mutt.”

  Carver swung his dark blue gaze toward him and cocked a dark brown brow, not in the least flustered. Interesting, and something worth noting for any future conflicts. “You’re not my type, blondie. Mainly because you don’t have the required parts to hold my interest.”

  Tremayne noticed that the other male wasn’t budging, which meant he wasn’t either. His damn pride wouldn’t allow him to give the wolf that advantage, even if he wasn’t comfortable with how close they stood without being engaged in a death match.

  “So, tell me, Vamp,” Carver’s attention strayed again. “Did you get a feeling about that female or was it just me?” Tremayne noticed the wolf’s eyes shifting color, glowing slightly from within; he was tracking the female using his inner beast.

  “Like I would tell you if I did or not,” he sniffed.

  The grin on Carver’s face had his spine stiffening. The next words had him curling his hands into fists. “Considering that I think that’s my mate and you reacted like you were struck by lightning, I’d say we have ourselves a bit of a challenge here.”

  “You didn’t touch her; you can’t know if she’s your mate or not.” Defensive much, Tremayne, he asked himself, rolling his eyes mentally.

  “No, I didn’t,” Carver said, his attention straying again. Like a laser beam the wolf seemed to lock on the female, the female Tremayne could just barely make out in the crowd, easily. “But her scent definitely caught my attention right quick. Which leads me to believe I should go and run a finger over her skin, and with the tension vibrating off of you, Vamp, I think you may want to do the same.”

  Tremayne stood there blinking as the wolf shot him a smug grin and began to move off. It took him a few moments for his mind to kick in and then all hell broke loose in his brain. His worst enemy was potentially mated to the same female he was. The fucking Gods were probably laughing their asses off over that one.

  Grumbling something anatomically impossible in regards to the wolf under his breath, he followed on Carver’s heels. It was not a place he wanted to be, following the wolf, but since he seemed locked onto their mutual target, it was likely best to follow- demeaning and seriously painful for his ego, but wise at that moment.

  Jogging a couple of steps, he caught up enough with Carver that he was just behind his left shoulder. “Decided to join the party I see, probably wise.” The fucking wolf just had to open his mouth. Really, if he could muzzle the beast Tremayne would probably li
ke him better. Especially after some house training and obedience classes with a large and wicked whip.

  Then again, probably not. “I thought it wise to ensure you didn’t scare the poor female. After all, you can’t be sure she’s your mate anymore than I can be at this point. Until there is skin to skin contact this is really a moot discussion.”

  The look Carver threw him was a mixture of disbelief, pity and outright mockery. “Seriously? Do you ever listen to yourself when you spout shit like that? Because, honestly, I have to say that you really need to listen to your instincts more. If you did, maybe you’d have actually won our last skirmish instead of having your ass handed to you.”

  “I did not have, as you so crudely put it, my ass handed to me, mutt. It was a tactical retreat due to the hour,” Tremayne said in the coldest, haughtiest tone that he could manage.

  “Sure, whatever lets you sleep at night. Or, in your case, during the day,” Carver smirked at him. In the next moment, he stopped dead, Tremayne nearly running into him. The wolf’s head pivoted slowly, the movement completely telling of his animal heritage as no other being could manage it with such smoothness.

  “What?” Tremayne asked, his whole body going on alert. The only other time he’d seen Carver pull that move had been mere seconds before a Demon attack had come crashing down on both their armies. It had been the one and only time they had formed a semi-amicable truce and fought together to defeat a foe.

  Like the wolf he was, Carver shook his head hard. “Nothing, I thought I sensed something amiss,” he muttered with a frown.

  Tremayne didn’t buy it, not for an instant, but he did let it drop since the wolf was moving once more and heading straight for the little female. How he knew it was her, he couldn’t say. Her back was to them, the hood of the cloak was up so she was fully shielded and yet, his entire being began to thrum with an odd energy. It was her.