Resistance

by Allana Kephart

  Instead I roll over, lace my fingers through his and look up into his eyes. “I swear it isn’t that I don’t want to, Flint.”

  He smiles at me reassuringly and kisses my forehead, and I feel some of the tension leave me. "Just because you want to doesn't mean you're ready." He tugs my hand up and kisses my knuckles. "And that's okay. I don't mind waiting."

  "Thank you…for being so sweet." I tug my bottom lip between my teeth and feel my face heat. I look down at my fingers intertwined with Flint’s and decide to confess quietly. "I'm scared."

  He frowns, looking confused, and starts massaging my palm. "Scared?" He angles his head and tries to snare my gaze. "Scared of what?"

  I meet his eyes, my face hot, and open my mouth and then close it again. I feel weak, remembering Hugh. But this is Flint and I know he won’t be cruel, so very quietly I tell him, "It will hurt…” and look back down at our clasped hands.

  I hear him clear his throat and he uses our hands to tilt my head up, holding my gaze with his. He flexes his jaw; anger, at Hugh I’m sure, simmering in his eyes. "It shouldn't hurt. It..." He shakes his head and lets out a steadying breath. "I promise you — when you're ready, I'll be gentle. I won't hurt you."

  I shake my head. "No, no, I didn't think you would ever hurt me on purpose...I just thought..." I stop as I realize I was wrong. Sex isn’t supposed to be a terror-inducing nightmare. I find that I don’t want to think about what that means for me and quietly say, "I know you wouldn't hurt me."

  Flint offers me a small smile. "Good." He pauses, opens his mouth like he’s going to say something and then closes it again. He lifts an arm and gestures for me to come closer. "Get over here."

  I grin shyly at him and shift over so he can wrap his arm around me. He pulls me against his chest and kisses the top of my head. I pull back a little as I remember that I wanted to ask him what he called me earlier. I lift my head so I can look into his eyes. “By the way, what did you call me earlier?”

  He looks down at me, his brow furrowing. "When are you referring to?"

  I blush as I remember his mouth on me. "You know." I look down and avoid his eyes. "Um...before...you said I was beautiful and then something in Gaelic, I think."

  He smirks a little but tries to hold it in. "Ah. Mo gradh?"

  My face is still on fire but I nod. "Yes, that — what does it mean?"

  He looks at me, very obviously trying not to laugh. "It means ‘baby chicken’."

  I smack his shoulder and try to suppress my own laughter. "It does not!"

  "Oh, but it does." He smirks. "I don't know, love, you just remind me of a baby chicken."

  I hit him again, still trying not to laugh at his antics. "Flint! Tell me the truth — what does it really mean?"

  His attempt at a serious face cracks and he laughs. "It means 'my love', Fi."

  I grin up at him as warmth floods my cheeks and an overwhelming feeling of contentment fills me. I tuck my head under his chin, press my lips to his throat and hear him make a low humming noise. “I love you,” I say softly and he squeezes me tighter.

  His fingers nudge my chin up and his lips meet mine in a sweet, slow kiss. “I love you, too,” he says. “Now, time to sleep. Are you comfortable?” I shake my head and hear the rumble of a chuckle in his chest. I sigh heavily and pull back from him mumbling, “But I don’t want to move.”

  He laughs outright then. “Well maybe I can help.” He shucks his jeans off and then runs his hand from my knee up to my hip and asks, “Do you want to lose these?”

  “Well I can take care of that,” I say. I shimmy my shorts off, tossing them over the side of the bed and then burrowing back into his arms in just his tee shirt. He pulls the quilt over us and turns the lamp off on the nightstand next to him. I let myself relax in his arms, determined that tomorrow will have to be better than today was.

  I wake slowly, surprised to see bright morning sunlight streaming through the cracks in the blinds. I roll onto my back and look over to find I am alone in my bed. This is a new development; Flint never gets up before me. Puzzled, I sit up and stretch a little. Looking down, I see I am wearing Flint’s shirt and blush when I remember last night. I feel rested and ready to take control of things again after all the trauma of yesterday, though. I’m excited to be going to the supply house to find the journals and figure out what we need to do next. Leaving the city is always dangerous, but right now it might be just as dangerous to sit here and wait around for the Fae to show up at our borders.

  I’m wondering where Flint wandered off to when I hear voices from the hallway outside my room. Aodhan sounds frazzled and scared when he says, “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what happened.”

  Then I hear Flint say, "Breathe, kiddo, you're not in trouble. Go get your dad, I'll tell Fi." I hear the slight edge of worry in his voice but he seems to have fooled my cousin, because I hear footfalls pound down the hallway. A moment later my door opens and Flint steps inside looking tense.

  He sees me sitting up in bed and his face goes deliberately blank. “Oh, you’re up,” he says, trying to project calm, but I see the fear in his eyes and it makes my blood go cold.

  All of my instincts are screaming now. Fear settles in my chest and I don’t want to know, but I force myself to say, “Tell me.”

  He looks like he’d rather do anything else in the world. “You’re just waking up, Fi,” he says, stalling for time.

  I shake my head at him and feel sick inside. “I know something’s going on, Flint.”

  “Yeah.” He clears his throat. “You tend to know when something’s going on a lot.” He crosses to the bed and climbs on, sits next to me and I notice he’s flexing his fingers with trembling hands. I have never seen him so shaken up and it drives terror straight into my heart.

  Panic tries to take over my insides and I force myself to try and be calm. I hook Flint’s gaze with mine. “You’re stalling, and it isn’t going to make whatever happened go away.” I need him to tell me because the possibilities of what could have happened are racing through my head at warp speed, and I’m desperately trying to tell myself that none of them can be the reality.

  I watch as he catches his bottom lip between his teeth. His eyes plead with me. “You’re not going to like it.”

  I grab one of his hands for both of our sakes. I can’t stand to watch them shake and do nothing any longer. "I know, but you still have to tell me."

  He grips my hand tightly and looks down at our intertwined fingers; shaking his head. “It’s...” He stops and looks up again, meeting my eyes. “Don’t freak out, okay? Everything will be fine.”

  I take a deep breath and remind myself to be strong and not panic, even though I feel like I’m going to throw up at any moment. “I’ll try. Please, just tell me.”

  He clears his throat. “It’s about Eir and Lu.” There is a look of panic in his eyes that makes me cold all the way in my bones.

  "Oh, no — please, no.” I feel all the blood leave my head and then dizziness rushes in and Flint’s hand closes on my shoulder; steadying me. “Flint, what happened to them?" There is a hollowness inside of me echoing They’re dead over and over as I wait for Flint to speak. Tears build instantly in my chest at the thought, but I can’t seem to stop it.

  He glances down at our hands again for a moment and pulls in a big breath. “I don’t know. They —” He closes his eyes for a second and shakes his head before finally meeting my eyes. “Aodhan and I looked everywhere, Fi. Eir and Lu are gone.”

  Glossary of Gaelic Terms

  Go dté tú slán- May you go safely (Irish Gaelic)

  mo gradh- My love (Scots Gaelic)

  Acknowledgements

  We would both like to thank:

  Michele Kephart for the amazing artwork and helping to bring Fi and Flint to life for us.

  KJ Partridge; chief beta reader extraordinaire, third part of our shared brain and overall guru of all things awesome. KJ—this book would never have been finished if not for your
constant feedback, support, love and guidance!! Thank you so much!

  Jamie Turner Norton, Rebecca McGowan, our other awesome beta readers!

  Stacy Sanford (Girl with the Red Pen) — our totally kickass editor—thank you for loving Flint almost as much as we do.

  C.L. Foster for making our book look so pretty with her ah-mazing formatting skills.

  Starla Huchton for being our magical unicorn cover designer. We adore you.

  Melissa would like to thank:

  My husband, Keith Simmons. You really are the sweetest man a girl could ever ask for and I consider myself so very lucky to have you. Thank you for putting up with my neglectful ways when I retreat into my head and get sucked into my imaginary worlds. You never stop supporting me and my dreams and I am so grateful for you. I love you, babe!

  Tyffani Clark Kemp, you are so supportive and a constant cheerleader in my every endeavor! I love you to bits!

  Lenore Southworth, my high school English teacher. She was the first person who ever said I could write a book. Thank you, Mrs. Southworth for giving me the push to follow my dream.

  And of course, Allana Kephart— there is no one else on this planet I would want to do this with. You really are in my head, finishing my sentences and getting me like no one else does. Thank you for being a kindred spirit and genuinely awesome person. I love you to the moon and back, my friend.

  Allana would like to thank:

  First, I want to thank Carrie Corbetta, for supporting the very first excuse of a manuscript I ever wrote about a haunted house that will probably never see the light of day. Even though it will most likely sit under my mattress for the rest of my life, and I’m sure it was the worst piece of literature you ever read, you still smiled and gave me enough hope to chase this dream, and for that I am truly grateful.

  I know we thanked her in our joint acknowledgements but I want to say a big thank you to both my mom, Michele Kephart, and my dad, Butch Kephart, for unknowingly keeping me sane throughout this process.

  HUGE thank you to Donna Richmond, who praised my work when I was feeling super low about it and kept me motivated without even having to be asked. Thank you for all the laughs, Donna!

  Courtney Robinson and Megan Bruenger deserve huge thanks, too, for continuously keeping my creative juices flowing when we discuss fanfics and TV shows. It might sound silly, but our stories are some of my favorites. I love you girls!

  Finally I want to thank Melissa Simmons, the lady who just made me cry a few paragraphs back. Working with you has been a complete blessing and I am so glad you came into my life. I know for a fact I could not have done this with anyone but you. I am so glad you share in my insanity. I love you more than words could describe, girly, and I hope we can keep doing this for many years to come.

  RUINED

  A Novella in The Dolan Prophecies Series

  Patrick and Maeve Dolan left the safety of their New York human settlement on a sultry summer night and never returned. Ambushed by the Winter Court guards during their search for information on how to free humanity from faery rule, they are now ensnared in the Winter King Landric’s web, and he has some questions of his own.

  The Winter King is curious about the way the Dolans run their city. In a surprising turn of events, he’s determined to learn all about their 16-year-old son, Eirnin. Landric separates the couple, threatens and tortures to the best of his ability, but the Dolans won’t give up the information he’s after.

  Murphy, one of King Landric’s guards has been a ward of the Winter Court for as long as he can remember. Trained from childhood to be as quiet and obedient as possible, he’s always been the perfect servant. At least, until Princess Lumi strolled into his life and made him question everything he believes in.

  When the princess vanishes without a trace in the middle of the night, Landric is determined Patrick’s people had something to do with it. Without the only connection to kindness and humanity they had, Murphy and Patrick both find themselves falling into very different kinds of insanity.

  Will Murphy follow his heart just this once, choose his own side and find Lumi? Will Patrick’s hope dwindle before he can escape and save his family? Or will their unyielding resistance be the death of them all?

  About the Authors

  Allana Kephart has been making things up and bending people to her will from a very young age. She loves animals and reading and spends a large amount of time thinking up ways to torment her characters. She loves coffee, too many TV shows to name, food and the color purple. She is the co-author of The Dolan Prophecies Series, Gumshoes & Grifters Series & Fractured Fairytale Standalone series with Melissa Simmons and has published two short stories on her own in the Best Thing I Never Had & Happily (N)ever After anthologies.

  Melissa Simmons loves music, reading, her cat and her husband-not necessarily in that order, of course. She is obsessed with all things Disney, Supernatural (tv show) and comic book tv shows/ movies and doesn’t care who knows it. Her favorite superhero is Batman and she will defend his awesomeness to her last breath. When she isn’t writing and plotting, she loves to bake and spends her days helping other authors promote their work. She is the co-author of The Dolan Prophecies Series, Gumshoes & Grifters Series & Fractured Fairytale Standalone series with Allana Kephart and has published a short story on her own in the Best Thing I Never Had anthology. She resides in upstate NY with her husband and their adorable cat.

  Social Media Links-

  Allana Kephart’s Goodreads-https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7376577.Allana_Kephart

  Melissa Simmons’ Goodreads- https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1639094.Melissa_Simmons

  Facebook- https://www.facebook.com/MelandLanaWrite

  Twitter- https://twitter.com/MelandLanaWrite

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  Blog- http://melandlanawrite.blogspot.com/