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The Academy Volume One

Page 1

by Maxine Mansfield




  Table of Contents

  Touched by the Magic

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Prose

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Epilogue

  Tempted by the Storm

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Prose

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Epilogue

  Taken by the Passion

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Prose

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Touched by the Magic

  by

  Maxine Mansfield

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Touched by the Magic

  COPYRIGHT © 2012 by Maxine Mansfield

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact Information: info@thewildrosepress.com

  Cover Art by Diana Carlile

  The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  PO Box 708

  Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

  Visit us at www.thewilderroses.com

  Publishing History

  First Scarlet Rose Edition, May 2012

  Print ISBN 978-1-61217-370-2

  Digital ISBN 978-1-61217-371-9

  Published in the United States of America

  Dedication

  To Marcy Gentemann, who suggested

  this little writing exercise.

  To David Kuropkat, whose wonderful imagination, loan of quirky characters, and hours of brainstorming breathed the very first breaths

  into this story.

  To my wonderful critique group, especially Lizbeth Selvig, DeNise Woods, Morgan Q. O’Riely,

  Jennifer Bernard, and Tam Lindsey—I couldn’t

  have done it without you guys.

  And last but certainly not least, to Lori, my editor. You so rock!

  Touched by the magic,

  Tempted by the storm,

  Taken by the passion…

  A new love is born.

  “When a man whose heart is stout and true

  joins with a woman whose love flows

  through and through,

  And together they embrace a soul who forgiveness is due, in order to save a life barely started and new,

  Then and only then will the shadows of ancient wrongs become light and the mist of misunderstanding be lifted

  and the world become bright.

  The time of waiting will come to an end as a leader steps forward of both dragon and men.

  Tried by fire and forged of true love, ruled by a heart as pure as a dove.

  United again Castle Kuropkat will be and a time of peace like no other all of Albrath will see.”

  Chapter One

  Briar pressed her face farther between the large, purple leaves of the pandronium plant in order to get a better view. She knew she was breaking the rules but simply couldn’t help herself. After listening all week to the stories floating around The Academy of Magical Arts concerning the castle’s most talented healer, to literally stumble upon her in this manner was amazing. Not only amazing but so incredibly lucky, it had to be fate.

  Who would have thought a simple wrong turn on the way to Healing the Soul class would’ve conveyed her, Briarlarn Tumbleweed, to this particular small, out-of-the-way conservatory and the sight now before her eyes? Could any remotely rational person really expect her to avert her gaze, walk away, and pass up this opportunity? Certainly not!

  To observe the magnificent Ursula at work was a dream come true. If she had the chance to witness an actual healing, Briar had no intention of missing it.

  The beautiful healer mounted a bronzed, godlike man, whose muscles bulged and rippled beneath her touch as she rode him to a rhythm only she could hear.

  It was incredible. It was hypnotic. It was primal. It was healing at its most basic and yet, at the same time, exquisite.

  Over and over, ever so slowly, Ursula rose, and the thick, hard, swollen cock beneath her threatened to spring free. At the very last possible moment, she plunged downward, and the golden-brown man moaned―yes, actually moaned―with the pleasure of it.

  Briar slipped the leaves back in place, once more hiding the couple from view, and blew out the breath she’d been holding.

  Heat radiated from her insides and spread outward. She fanned her fevered face with both hands as she took in great gulps of air, trying to slow the pounding in her chest. A throbbing Briar didn’t quite understand pulsed in her core to the rhythm of her erratic heartbeat.

  So, this was the sex act used for healing―the millennium-old, sacred treatment to heal the soul she’d been trying to envision all week. Not that the concept of sex for treatment or even simply for pleasu
re was entirely foreign to her. After all, she wasn’t a child; she was a woman fully grown, twenty-one as of the second moon’s last phase. It was just that her previous experiences with coupling had all come from watching animals mate for the sake of procreation.

  Well, a couple of things were for certain. She was no longer in her beloved Dak Forest, and people definitely performed the sex act much differently than animals.

  Briar sighed. Would she ever be so powerful a healer as to make a man like the one Ursula rode moan? Her body tingled with the possibility as she parted the leaves again, leaned in much closer to get a better look, and peeked once more.

  Ursula wasn’t riding him anymore. The healer now straddled his chest, and had the very tip of the man’s cock between her lips. Her hand barely reached around his shaft, it was so thick.

  He suddenly lunged upward as his body spasmed and shook. A trail of white fluid trickled down the side of Ursula’s perfect, pink mouth, and her tiny tongue slipped out to capture it.

  The throbbing became more demanding as it pulsed from the pit of Briar’s belly all the way to the junction between her thighs. She clamped her legs tightly closed in an attempt to impede the persistent sensations.

  It didn’t work.

  They grew stronger, and faster, and more exacting as Briar struggled to take in enough air to remain conscious. The hairs on the back of her neck and arms rose as her nipples pebbled and ached for something, though she wasn’t sure what. A quiver she had no control over scampered along her spine, marking its path down to the tips of her toes.

  As the leaves fell back in place, Briar wondered if she would ever be attractive enough to entice a man like this one to give her a second glance, let alone actually do with her the things this blond Adonis was doing with Ursula.

  If she could, then she wouldn’t have to worry about her secret. But how did one go about letting the opposite sex know you were interested in such things?

  A twinge of regret at the fact she’d been raised in small, out-of-the-way Dak Forest stung Briar, and not for the first time since she arrived at The Academy a short week ago.

  Though she loved her home and her father with all her heart, a mother’s advice, a proper sex education, and a city upbringing would have come in handy.

  It’s not as if she considered herself unattractive, for she didn’t. If her own eyes hadn’t seen her reflection many times, her father certainly didn’t have a problem telling her how much she looked like her elegant, high-elf mother. Nor was she a classic beauty like Ursula, although Briar knew her features complemented each other. Still, not a single one of them stood out in her mind as unique or truly memorable.

  Like her hair, for instance. More the color of dull rust than shiny copper, it was at least healthy, if not manageable. Even though it hung well past the halfway point of her back, and the weight of it alone should have kept it straight as an arrow, it tended to curl on the ends and go every which way. And her eyes―though they were the exact shade of the deep-green moss on the forest floor―had none of the exotic tilt so prevalent in most elves. They were definitely rounded, due to her father’s human heritage.

  Her ears had only the slightest tendency to come to a point―nothing like the crispness she’d seen in pictures of her mother. Her waist was neither petite nor wide, her legs neither short nor long, and her feet, thanks to the Good Lord Draka, each had simply five toes. For the most part, she was average.

  Ursula, on the other hand, was flawless. From her pointed, high-elfin ears and porcelain skin, to her below-the-waist blonde tendrils, her rose-tipped breasts, and legs long enough to easily wrap around even the largest of barbarians, Ursula was perfection personified.

  Briar sighed once more. She would never come anywhere close to achieving that degree of beauty.

  She grimaced at the self-deprecating way she’d let her thoughts run. Perhaps she wasn’t as pretty as Ursula, perhaps she never would be, but Briarlarn Tumbleweed knew her worth, and she had dreams.

  With a start, she realized she was now late for one of those dreams. Healing the Soul class.

  Standing and turning to leave, she ran straight into a solid wall. No, not a wall. A chest. A wide, warm, living-and-breathing wall of a chest.

  She forced herself to look up, and up, until she could finally see the face it belonged to.

  Eyes the blue-green of a stormy sky rimmed with thick, dark lashes stared back and held her captive with their intensity.

  An apology was ready on her lips until he smiled. The air dissipated from her body. She couldn’t speak, she couldn’t think, she couldn’t budge an inch.

  He was gorgeous.

  Actually, not just gorgeous, but eye-popping, heart-racing, weak-in-the-knees gorgeous. Her own knees buckled and she placed a palm against his chest to steady herself.

  Time slowed as two very solid arms wrapped and sheltered her in a haven of warmth. The fingers of his hands pressed into her back, leaving tingling imprints in their wake.

  Realization rocked her. This is what she’d been craving moments before while watching Ursula and the man with a body to die for.

  To be touched. Not the touch of just any man, however. What she craved was the caress of a hot-blooded man like this one.

  His life force exuded energy beneath her fingertips and it pulsed with a vivacity matching the pounding of her heart. Oh yes, this man was definitely sizzling hot and then some.

  “Damsel in distress?” he asked.

  Briar gulped. She couldn’t take her eyes off his mouth, and she couldn’t force herself to look away as his lips―so full and ever so slightly upturned at the corners―widened into a broad smile.

  “I do so hope you’re a damsel in distress, my lady, for damsels in distress are my particular specialty,” he chuckled.

  Briar flushed as the sensual, deep tremor of his laugh infused her with even more heat. She spoke, but what came out at first was more a squeak than a word.

  “No.”

  She swallowed the lump in her throat. “No, sir, I’m fine. You simply gave me a fright. I thought for a moment I’d been discovered by an Academy official. You aren’t one, are you? I know I’m not supposed to be here, and I know it’s forbidden to watch a healing unless it’s part of a class demonstration. I swear I simply couldn’t help myself. It was so… breathtaking.”

  He leaned forward until their foreheads touched and his lips were no more than a whisper from hers. “See, you are a damsel in distress. I knew it. And, nope, not an Academy official. I’m a graduate student, my lady, and your secret is safe with me.”

  She wasn’t sure why she believed him but she did. He looked trustworthy. Older than she, but not by much, he appeared to be perhaps twenty-five.

  Leaning in even closer, he brushed her lips with his so lightly, Briar wasn’t sure it had even happened. Her heart knew it, however. It pounded so hard, she feared it might explode.

  His shoulder-length hair―the color of rich, dark chocolate―tickled her cheek and sent tiny spurts of excitement scurrying every which way. His strong, princely nose flared at the nostrils as his breath further warmed her overheated skin. But it was his intense stare, so full of both sincerity and mischief, that held her mesmerized.

  He’d said her secret was safe with him. What if…? What if she did dare to share her most important secret with this man who now held her so close? Would it be safe―would she be safe? Could she take a chance and tell the one fact about herself that, if it got out, could spell the end of her dreams?

  “Just what, may I ask, are you two doing here? This area is off limits to students at this time of the day.”

  She jumped, but the man holding her didn’t let go. He simply turned them as a single unit toward the sound of the speaker.

  Briar wished for the words and skill needed to cast a disappearing spell. The stern voice belonged to none other than Mr. Ohmni, the assistant administrator, and he was scowling.

  Instead of demanding an immediate answer, Mr. Ohmni glan
ced through the partially opened leaves of the pandronium plant. “Ah, I see. You’ve been watching a healing in progress, haven’t you? That’s forbidden, and you well know it. As soon as the day’s classes have been completed, report to Headmistress Seychelle’s office.” The frown lines in his already too thin face deepened as he scowled at Briar and the man whose very heartbeat thumped strong and steady through the thinness of her tunic.

  Briar wanted to tell Mr. Ohmni that the man who was still holding her so close hadn’t been watching anything at all and was completely innocent, but she never got the chance. Her safe-shelter-against-a-cold-world guy placed a finger against her lips and spoke for them both.

  “We’ll be there.” Taking her hand in his, he tugged, and Briar automatically followed.

  By the time she’d slowed the pace of her racing heart and formed her next coherent thought, they’d arrived in front of the door to her Healing the Soul class.

  “Why’d you do that? You weren’t watching the healing, and you didn’t break any rules. There’s really no need for you to take any part of the blame for something I did entirely on my own.”

  The man bowed slightly before Briar. “Allow me to introduce myself, my lady? I am Uthiel Stoutheart, protector of the realm, paladin by trade, and rescuer of fair damsels in distress when the opportunity arises.

  “And you, my dear damsel, appeared to be in great distress. Being the stouthearted rescuer that I am, I couldn’t very well allow a lady as lovely as yourself to take punishment alone. It would’ve been highly unchivalrous of me and not paladin-like in the least. Now, might I inquire as to who you may be?”

  Her breath caught in her chest. A paladin? An honest-to-goodness paladin. She’d heard rumors of their existence, even stories of their exploits, but had never seen one up close, let alone been held by one.

  Briar once more grew warm, her nearness to the gorgeous paladin playing havoc on her nerves. Her voice sounded breathy even to her own ears. “I’m Briarlarn Tumbleweed, though my friends call me Briar. I’m here at The Academy to become a True Healer. It’s nice to meet you, kind sir. I mean, Uthiel Stoutheart. And thank you.”

  He bowed before her, and Briar couldn’t resist the question almost burning her tongue, demanding to be asked, so she blurted it out. “Have you seen a real live dragon? I mean, I’ve been told paladins take an oath to protect them. That’s what warriors of the light do, isn’t it? Protect the dragons, and therefore the magic that is Albrath?”

 

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