Paladin (Book Two of the Elemental Paladins series)

by Montana Ash

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  PROLOGUE

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  TWENTY-ONE

  TWENTY-TWO

  TWENTY-THREE

  TWENTY-FOUR

  TWENTY-FIVE

  TWENTY-SIX

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  TWENTY-NINE

  THIRTY

  THIRTY-ONE

  THIRTY-TWO

  THIRTY-THREE

  Also by Montana Ash:

  Meet Montana!

  PALADIN

  ELEMENTAL PALADINS: BOOK TWO

  MONTANA ASH

  This is an IndieMosh book

  brought to you by MoshPit Publishing

  an imprint of Mosher’s Business Support Pty Ltd

  PO BOX 147

  Hazelbrook NSW 2779

  http://www.indiemosh.com.au/

  Copyright 2016 © Montana Ash

  All rights reserved

  Licence Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favourite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted by any person or entity, in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, scanning or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the author and publisher.

  Disclaimer

  This story is entirely a work of fiction. No character in this story is taken from real life. Any resemblance to any person or persons living or dead is accidental and unintentional. The author, their agents and publishers cannot be held responsible for any claim otherwise and take no responsibility for any such coincidence.

  Cover design by Montana Ash, author, and Ally Mosher, IndieMosh.

  Stock photography from Adobe Stock

  Dedication

  To Montana’s Minions!

  You are everything women should be; mighty, pervy, funny, weird, fierce, dirty, loyal, special, strong, beautiful, smart, unique, witty … and very, very appreciated!

  Thank you, thank you, thank you!

  Rock on, Minions!

  The Order of Neptune thanks Marcia; Cinder thanks Kirsty; Mordecai thanks Fran.

  PROLOGUE

  It had been a fierce battle, but a good one, Sir Darius thought, as he made his way through the killing field to his liege. Over four months they had warred in order to secure this piece of land. Three other Orders had also taken up arms in the Crusades, Earth, Life, and Fire, and were spread throughout the city. He hoped there had been no casualties among his fellow soldiers. Distracted, he noted a sword among the bodies on the stained earth. The Earth Warden would have a tiresome time attending to the battered grounds here. The glinting metal was tarnished with red, evidence that its owner had fulfilled its purpose. The distinctive pommel caught his attention almost as surely as its owner had weeks before. The death paladin was second in command to Verity – Warden of Life – and Darius was ashamed to admit he had been admiring her from afar from the very first moment he had laid his eyes upon her. She was breathtaking in her beauty, with eyes the colour of polished grey river stones, her hair black as night and her curls unrelenting in their chaos. Twice he had found himself distracted with thoughts of tugging on those tresses. But those were wasted thoughts, he knew, as he bent to retrieve the weapon.

  Unbeknownst to him, the sword’s owner was also reaching to retrieve the it. The skin of their hands brushed against each other, causing an almost literal spark to flare between them. Heat shot up his arm and very unexpectedly, directly to his groin. He somehow had the presence of mind to stifle his groan even as he heard the feminine gasp from the other paladin.

  “What was that?” She asked, her grey eyes beseeching and lovely.

  No, Darius thought, this cannot be.

  “What ‘twas what?” He replied. Any other acknowledgement would be seen as encouragement.

  “Do not act as though you are ignorant, Sir Darius. You understand me completely.” The Lady Diana responded sternly. “I am referring to that … tingle … that heat!”

  Oh, yes. Darius understood very well, to what she was referring – attraction. Instant, spontaneous, dangerous, attraction. Darius swallowed hard in order to formulate the lie he knew must be uttered. Any form of relationship between the two of them simply could not be permitted. His responsibility was first and foremost to his liege. Not only was he honour-bound to his sovereign as a sworn paladin, but he was also blood-bound due to their family ties. Any relationship, any feelings would prove an unacceptable distraction to his duties. Especially in times such as these, when his liege had sworn to aid the humans and help them fight their Holy wars. As paladins, they had little choice in regards to personal life as it stood. But given the current climate fraught with violence and change, their choices were now non-existent. So he voiced the only response he was able;

  “I do not know what you are implying. I did not feel a thing. And if you are as good and as loyal as you appear in battle, then you will never admit to feeling differently either.”

  The Lady’s grey eyes appeared to darken as if a storm cloud had suddenly passed o’er head. She raised her chin and somehow managed to give the appearance of looking down at him, despite the discrepancies in their statures. “And this is your final word on the matter?”

  Darius nodded curtly, “It is.”

  “Then I will consider this matter concluded. But know this, Sir Darius Magne,” she continued, the hot wind picking at her glorious curls, “I will ne’er approach you again. When you come to regret your decision – and you will – you must approach me … and pray you find me in a forgiving mood.”

  Diana retrieved her bloodied sword from the hard earth and strode way without a backward glance. He couldn’t help but admire the pride in her stiff shoulders and the purpose in the sway of her feminine hips. It was already too late for regrets he knew – his regrets had begun the second he saw her magnificent hair waving wildly on the battlefront as she swung her sword with lethal grace. For the first time in his life, he had regretted being a knight.

  “You believe you are doing a great service to your liege by denying your truest emotions.”

  He jumped in alarm from the deep voice at his back. Verity, Warden of Life and Lady Diana’s liege was standing behind him. Clearly, the Warden had been there long enough to surmise the gist of their conversation. Or perhaps not, given a Life Warden could see into his very heart and pluck out the truth. Hoping to bluff his way through, yet not cause offense, he bowed low, “My Lord?”

  Verity merely shook his head, gazing fondly at his sworn paladin in the distance, he continued, “This is a lie, son. The greatest disservice one can commit is being false to oneself.” He leaned forward, placing a kindly hand over his coat of arms. “Even the strongest of us ca
nnot best Fate, son.”

  The most senior sovereign in their society took his leave as quietly as he had appeared, leaving Darius with naught but confusion, doubts and regrets.

  ONE

  More than eight hundred years had passed since the capture of Lisbon where Darius had first laid eyes on the paladin of death. Eight hundred years when his fate had been sealed in her eyes; never to know her touch, her affection, or her love. She had told him she would never offer herself to him again, that if he wanted her he would have to go to her, and she had held to that vow, despite living in the same house for the last twenty-odd years. Who knew the woman would have the capacity to be so stubborn? And why was he up at five in the morning dwelling on the actions he took some eight centuries ago? Likely, it was due to all the recent upheaval in the household.

  Max, a pint-sized, redheaded, whirlwind of trouble had descended upon them in a flurry of questions and impossibilities. Not a month ago, Darius himself had discovered her sitting alone in a local pub, legs swinging back and forth on a too-tall barstool, communicating with the wind as easy as you please. To say he had been surprised would be an understatement. Wardens, those who possess a kinship to specific elements from nature, were fated caretakers of that element; Earth, Air, Fire, Water, Life, Death, or Beast. They had the ability to create, restore, see, feel and shape their element. Without wardens, balance could not be maintained and the world would spiral into chaos. The only problem was; people were born wardens and the birthright was a heavy burden to bear. Constantly using their own energy and resources in order to ensure their element – or domain – remained happy and healthy, resulted in them always losing what was essentially their life force. On top of that, they were like beacons to the evil beings of their society – the chades.

  Darius hated the chades with every fibre of his being. They were foul creatures, monsters who had turned their backs on their honour and instead chosen a life of pain and depravity. They stalked, stole and killed until warden numbers had withered to a small percentage of their once thriving population. But luckily, Mother Nature had accounted for all the obstacles a warden faced, he supposed. And that was him – well, him and his fellow knights. As a paladin it was his born duty to provide service and protection to wardens in general and to his liege in particular. He always prided himself on his exemplary service and his family had been one of the most respected and sought after paladin lines for centuries. He had served under the one liege for a millennium until those unspeakable chades had taken everything away from him and his family. Thousands of years of service and honour, eradicated in an instant. As a result, he hadn’t been in an Order or served a liege for almost forty years. Instead he volunteered at the training centre with a few other misplaced paladins.

  But all that was about to change, thanks to Max. Following what he assumed was a lost Warden out of the bar, he had been completely appalled and shocked when she had fought expertly and decapitated their enemy. Passive. Wardens were supposed to be passive. Well, in recent years anyway, Darius silently amended. After all, his liege had fought in the Crusades. After weeks of educating the young Warden of Life about her powers, about shielding, about their roles in society and their laws, he had begun to see that Max was never really going to fit into the traditional Warden mold. She was easy-going, honest and had no social airs whatsoever. She didn’t understand their caste system and didn’t want to understand it – she thought it was outdated and ‘dickish’ – her words. And despite all their best efforts to convince her they were not suitable candidates to be her personal paladins, she had claimed them anyway. In turn, he had offered her his service just the evening prior. It was a huge step for him and although he didn’t regret it per se, they definitely needed to discuss a few more things before any bonding and branding occurred. The biggest issue in the light of day?

  Max was a Custodian.

  A Custodian.

  Not a Warden like they had originally – and rightfully – assumed. But an honest to goodness daughter of Mother Nature herself. Which meant that Max was a real live Goddess. The woman walked around with no shoes, a slater bug on her shoulder and a spoon of Nutella permanently attached to her face, and she was a Goddess?! Darius barked out a laugh and was glad he was alone on the beach – he was famous for his controlled demeanour at all times. He was also the resident researcher and historian of the group, which implied he would be the one responsible for trying to unravel the mystery that was Max. Darius was pretty sure it was going to be an impossibility and he didn’t think his poor, ordered, mildly OCD brain was going to be able to reconcile the chaos that was a darn Goddess in his house!

  He sighed as the wind caressed his face, cooling his flushed skin. He was a paladin affiliated with air and although he couldn’t create it or control it like a warden could, it still recognised him as a friend and ally, and he was able to take comfort from the element. Although it seemed nigh impossible, Darius knew in his heart that Max was indeed a Custodian. A child born directly from the Great Mother herself … and not seen or heard of in thousands of years. How Max came to be roving around the streets with no memory he had no clue, but he sure was going to try to find out. He was also going to dig deep into the archives for any mention of a Custodian in a corporeal form. As far as he was aware, they weren’t supposed to be in human form. Darius scrubbed his fingers over his close-cropped scalp; yep, Max sure was upsetting his carefully ordered world.

  Seeing movement out of the corner of his eye, Darius automatically reached for his sickle. Even though it was barely dawn and he was on private property, he kept his blade with him always. He relaxed as he recognised Cali’s slender form silhouetted against the now-rising sun. She was obviously going for her morning swim. Although there was not much light and it was still chilly this time of year, he knew she could swim like a fish and therefore wasn’t concerned about her being alone in the water. The water would never harm her anyway, given the paladin was affiliated with the water domain. With his thoughts somewhat more in order, he decided to head into the house, where the others were probably already stirring to begin their morning routines.

  *****

  He found he had another hour to himself before the masses began to descend. In that time, he had made a pot of tea, eaten breakfast and listened to the morning news as was his usual ritual. There was nothing noteworthy in the local news to suggest any warden-related issues, so he felt better about informing Ryker he’d be spending the day hitting the books. Clearing the table, Darius felt himself go still as Ryker entered the room. It wasn’t because his Captain was a commanding presence – although he was. He figured Max assumed they all followed him because Ry was an Alpha, as she called him, and although the title was incorrect, the description was spot on. Ryker was a potentate; one of those rare few paladins born with the legacy to lead.

  Although, he himself was the oldest and most experienced knight in the camp with the purest bloodline, he was not a born potentate. He could fight chades with the best of them, work the politics better than most, and provide a warden with vitality, but none of that mattered if he couldn’t maintain a link within an Order. Only a potentate could act as a bridge between a Warden and their Order, allowing communication and a flow of the bond. A potentate also exuded strength, purpose and loyalty from their very pores and commanded respect just by breathing. Ryker was definitely that man, despite his ‘outcast’ role in recent years. Darius couldn’t think of a single other paladin who could have survived the madness of The Great Massacre other than the man standing before him.

  But all that was kind of a moot point now, Darius mused, given that Ryker was now officially bonded to Max. Ryker had little choice but to accept the title of Captain regardless of his potentate status. Besides, he was so in love with the fiery Goddess, there was no way he would allow any other to be in charge of her safety. Clearly it was now very official, he thought, and the reason for his continued stillness. Ryker now sported a brand new coat of arms – he and Max must have
bonded as paladin and liege overnight. He was wondering how that would work, given she wasn’t actually a Warden. But a binding was obviously possible, evidenced by the full sleeve of dark ink covering Ryker’s left forearm and disappearing under the sleeve of his white tee shirt on his bicep. Damn! That was one big Heraldry!

  “Well, that’s different.” Axel stated, breezing into the room in workout shorts, shoes and nothing else. Darius managed to hold back a cringe at seeing the fire paladin unclothed in the kitchen and so casual. He was from a time when things were more … formal. Although he thought he had adapted admirably to the changing customs of the modern world, some old-world decorum still clung; like not eating communal meals half naked! But he was the only one who thought so apparently, given the regularity of the act, so he had learned to accept the more casual ways of his fellow knights. He could not, however, accept Axel guzzling directly from the milk carton!

  “Axel!” He shouted.

  The blond with the surfer-boy good looks simply gave him a thumbs up and continued drinking. Shaking his head, he gave up. Axel was never going to change. He was reckless, sarcastic and defiant of all authority figures. Darius also felt he had some growing up to do, but at the end of the day, he would follow him into battle anywhere. He was a fierce soldier with a backbone of steel and trustworthy to a fault. His somewhat wicked and dirty sense of humour had even started to grow on him. Not that he would ever give Axel the satisfaction of knowing he found him to be refreshing and funny.

  Milk-chugging now done with, Axel focused on Ryker once more. “That’s some piece of artwork you have there.”

  “Indeed it is.” Darius agreed, frowning. “Not exactly inconspicuous.”

  He watched as Max’s brow furrowed and her bottom lip extended in a pout, “You don’t like it?” She asked.

  Although that pouting lip made her look even more adorable – Darius could admit he was well under her spell – he could also see the genuine worry in her eyes. A Warden’s coat of arms or Heraldry was a huge point of pride to their Orders and their lineage. It denoted their domain and the strength of their abilities. They were always unique, like a fingerprint, and were reflective of the Warden and their ancestry as well. They never knew what the brand would look like until they bonded and formed an Order. It was an honour to see one’s coat of arms branded on those loyal to you – those sworn to protect you and serve you throughout your life. And Darius figured it would be rather humbling as well. But to Max, he knew it must mean even more. With no memory, unstable powers, and chades haunting her every step, she hadn’t been able to set down any roots. Any friendships she made only put them in danger and having been raised in foster care as well as time on the streets, there wasn’t anyone she could call family.