by Amos, Ashley
Copyright 2016 by Ashley Amos - All rights reserved.
In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.
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SOUL SONG
A Tale of Magic, Werewolves & Love
By: Ashley Amos
Table of Contents
soul song
soul bonds (book 2)
IVory fangs in ebony flesh
Dark Miracles (book 2: Ivory fangs in ebony flesh)
the blood flows red
love at first contact
soul song
Chapter 1: The Spirits Guide Drey
Krys’s voice echoed in her head, calling her crazy as she carefully stepped over a fallen branch in the dim light, the full moon her only companion as she trekked through the night. Logic told her being alone in the dark in Central Park was flirting with disaster, but instinct drove her forward into the dark, seeking the source of this tugging in her chest that enticed her deeper into the park. She paused, a sharp intake of breath as a wolf howled in the distance. The forest around her loomed dark and imposing, fear blooming in her chest and disrupting the connection to the other side. Drey exhaled slowly, closing her eyes and opening her mind to the whispers that had brought her here, as always dragging up any recent memories as offering.
‘“The spirits aren’t infallible Drey. Following them this blindly will get you hurt”
“Your spirits may not be, but mine have never been wrong and I trust them. You don’t control me Krys.”
He had sighed at that, long suffering and exasperated;
“Drey you know that’s not what I-”
That way
Blue eyes snapped open when her guardians spoke, extending her arm in the direction she needed to go and she moved to where they had pointed, heart thumping in her chest as the sounds of the city faded behind her. She had never been lead this far without at least a clue as to the purpose, anticipation gripping so tight it was almost choking. This had to be something huge, as in so-life-altering-you-are-never-the-same kind of huge. She sped up, eager to reach whatever had been urgent enough to pull her here after dusk.
Hours must have passed as she hiked, stopping only to pick up a pair of men’s jeans that had been tucked inside a dead tree that the spirits had assured her were necessary, but Drey hardly noticed the passing time, she was so focused on her goal. As she was crossing into a clearing something cut her off from her guides like a switch had been flipped, leaving her cold and alone in the darkest depths of central park. She stopped mid stride, panic instantly clawing at her throat. That wolf’s howl sounded again, but this time it was close, almost to the clearing as if it had been following her this entire time. She shoved all emotion aside, hands shaking as she called to the spirits once more, but hit a block that repelled her back. Where they purposefully keeping her out? Now of all times? Another howl followed by a gut wrenching yelp had the hair on the back of her neck standing on end and she took off towards the wolf. She didn’t understand her own actions, her own brain was arguing against it even as her legs pumped and lungs burned, but she felt like she had to be there. She had to help him, a fact that she was suddenly sure of, that pull was stronger than ever.
Another loud cry that felt like a punch in the face, making her stumble before speeding up, all while clutching the jeans still in a white knuckled grip. She skidded to a stop when she heard a pained shout, this time definitely human. She ducked behind a tree when she saw the two men, one on the ground with the other towering over him, hand glowing with the after effects of magic. She had unwittingly stumbled upon a duel between Mages. The vapors curling from the upright man were bright blue, like the magic took from the sky itself, and his black hair seemed to suck the light from the area surrounding him. The man on the ground was naked, Drey realized with a sudden blush spreading across her cheeks, and gripping his side as soft brown hair fell in his face to mask the visible pain. Black hair drew a wicked looking dagger from the air, but the other didn’t move to defend himself, just bared his teeth like a caged animal. Drey had to stop this. She knew she had to like she had to breathe but she didn’t know why; then she heard the growling of the wolf echo through her thoughts and it all slammed home. He was the wolf. She was meant to meet this man and that mage was going to kill him before that could happen. Sending a quick prayer to the gods, she reached for the spirits once more, desperate to stop him. This time they responded, and Drey enhanced her hearing enough that male voices crackled into range;
“You gave me quite the chase, but this ends now.”
“And how exactly do you think this will solve anything? Do you even know what he’s doing? What you are doing?”
That voice melted in her ears like caramel on her tongue, overlaid with the rumbling of the wolf like the backdrop of a summer storm within her mind. He was being sarcastic, but strained as he continued to growl like he couldn’t help the threatening noise. Thankfully his attacker didn’t react, or perhaps simply couldn’t hear it since anyone who could, would know that a cornered wolf was at its most dangerous.
“I know what I’m doing Trent. I’ve always known this would be the end game, only an idiot wouldn’t. I even warned you, told you to back off, told you not to question him, but you didn’t listen and look where that-”
The words were cut off by a grunt as the dark haired man bowed over, Drey’s trained druid eyes discerning the distinctly different colored magics combating within the mage and her stomach turned with revulsion as she realized what had happened. Trent looked torn between disgust and anger, merely glaring as the man over him straightened, now covered in a fine sheen of sweat;
“I’m sorry it came to this Trent, I really am. You’re my best friend, you know.”
“You really aren’t Damien. You haven’t been that in a long time.”
Trent spit on his boots, but Damien just laughed so empty and hollow it made Drey shiver;
“That just makes this easier since you haven’t been yourself either, mutt”
Damien said the last part like a curse, gripping Trent’s hair and yanking his head back with a cruel grin plastered to his face. For the second time within an hour Drey didn’t think. She jumped out from her hiding place with a shout, waving her hands to get Damien’s attention (because attracting the man with the knife is a great idea).
“STOP!”
Chapter 2: Magic in the Forest
Both men stared at her like she’d grown five heads, taking in her petite 5’4” frame, floral patterned romper, and pixie cut white hair with raised eyebrows, though Trent just looked confused when his eyes lit on his jeans still scrunched in her hand. Damien broke the terse silence with a snort;
“What are you supposed to be, some hippy weekend warrior?”
“I’m a Druid, thank you very much.”
Her huffed reply made the mage outright laugh, wiping tears from his eyes as he retorted;
“Yeah, right, and I’m Merlin!”
Despite the other’s mirth,Trent’s eyes flashed to Damien with narrowed suspicion and a growl.
“Damien come one, she’s just a civvie. Let her go.”
“Oh Trent, forever the softie. You know I can’t do that.”
Amusement wiped away like marks on a chalkboard and Damien turned on Drey, appearing in a wreath of smoke directly in front of her. Trent snarled, yelling to get the mage’s attention;
“Damien! Damien
I swear to christ I will rip you to shreds!”
“Ya if you can stand up”
That brought a smirk to pale complexioned lips that turned into an outright grin as Trent’s struggling grunts reached their ears. During the exchange Drey had closed her eyes, mouthing the old language as she wove an offering to nature and the elements.
“What the hell are you doing? Hey, tree hugger!”
Damien snapped his fingers in front of Drey’s closed eyes as Trent swayed to his feet, trying to limp the 20 feet over;
“Are you special or something?”
“You little bitch, don’t ignore me!”
Damien went to flick Drey’s forehead as Trent halted, shuddering with the power flowing through the air. Just as the mage’s finger would have made contact with her face, Drey’s eyes flew open, no longer their normal blue but a pure white. She slammed her open palm into Damien’s chest, a blast of air sending him flying back, head cracking into a tree before slumping down to the ground, out cold. She tossed the jeans to Trent, who caught them purely out of reflex as he gaped open mouthed, watching as she whispered more words of power and drew symbols over the passed out man. She ripped open Damien’s shirt, placing a hand over his sternum as it began to glow then reached within him, lips pursed as she grabbed hold of the slimy blue soul and gently pulled it out. It was warmer than any other she had ever touched and it pressed into her palms, like it knew she was helping. Drey’s eyebrows knit briefly together before she smoothed her expression and walked carefully over to Trent.
The wolf mage (an odd combination, but the soul in her hands made it feel downright harmonious) looked like he wanted to bolt. His entire body was tense and he took a step back when she offered the trembling blue sphere, entirely too mistrustful eyes searching her from milky pupils to faintly glowing skin;
“Don’t you want this back? Without your second soul you lose a part of yourself.”
Drey took another step closer and Trent snarled, finally finding his voice;
“Who are you? What are you? How did you know how to find me? Why did you-”
Drey cut off the stream of questions with a shake of her head;
“My name is Drey. The rest can be explained later. But if you want your magic back you need to let me to put this back inside you.”
Trent narrowed his eyes, but didn’t back up further, allowing Drey to step closer as the wolf whined pitifully. Just as she reached out to touch him, he grabbed her wrist, taking a deep breath before nodding stiffly;
“Okay, do it.”
Drey was grim but determined, breathing deeply before plunging her hand inside the glowing portal she had made, carving out a pathway as carefully as she could. Trent stiffened and a hand she hadn’t noticed on her shoulder tightened its grip as she began to coax his soul back inside him. That part was always the most unpleasant and the small pained noises the man made had her speaking low words of comfort as she worked as quickly as possible. Her words thrummed with power, settling in the air around them to ease the process. At first the soul didn’t seem willing to leave her hand, clinging before finally sliding back into place. Taking care not to jostle him more than necessary, Drey pulled back, closing the channel swiftly and securely. Her chest was heaving when she came back to herself, just now aware of her pounding heart and the exhaustion making her vision go fuzzy around the edges. The world tilted before her eyes as the elements sucked the energy she had promised, an equal exchange that made her unable to stop herself from slumping forward onto Trent, causing the man to grunt in pain as he supported her. Barely conscious now, she fuzzily recalled how good he smelled, how warmth radiated through every place they touched and remembered thinking that she should be embarrassed, but being this close to this stranger felt as natural as breathing.
Chapter 3: Trent - The Werewolf Mage
When Drey woke up it was morning and her first thought was that last night had all been a dream. The light from her bedroom window was hitting her face, soaking her in its energies like a well-wishing from the spirits. Then bone tired ache hit her like running head first into a brick wall and she groaned, rubbing the heels of her hands across her eyes. How the hell she got back to her house? The crunch of an apple jerked her head to the doorway where Trent was leaning like he owned the place, chewing thoughtfully as he took in her room, the piles of clothes, stacks of CDs, to her collection of knives and swords on the wall, the bow and arrow leaning in the corner, before finally settling on the 21 pilots poster above her bed. Drey cleared her throat pointedly, crossing her arms indignantly and blushing when the action made her realize she wasn’t wearing the same clothes as before;
“What are you doing in my house?”
“I love 21 Pilots.”
“Hello? And why are you eating my food?”
“I think I deserve it after dragging you all the way back here injured and in the rain.”
“Wha- not a chance! It’s totally clear outside!”
“Ya, now. It rained for hours after that stunt you pulled and you’ve been conked out through the whole thing.”
Drey stood, disliking the feeling of being looking down on only to realize two things: 1) the guy was a fucking giant, towering above her even when standing and 2) apparently Trent had stripped her in her sleep, leaving her in nothing but her bra and panties. She turned beet red, quickly covering herself with a sheet. An immediate glare at the sound of the man’s infuriatingly attractive laughter and she chucked pillows with a yell;
“You undressed me in my sleep?!”
“I told you it was raining, you got wet.”
“That doesn’t mean you can strip me you creep!”
“So what should I have done, left you to get sick? What kind of rescuer would I be?”
Drey stuttered at that, no longer caring about her state of undress as she stormed over to the mage, glowering up at him and jabbing him in his (still bare) chest;
“I’m sorry, who saved who now? Mister I-almost-died-naked-and-defenseless?”
“Okay you had that one, but you passed out and then I had to backtrack your scent all the way to your house. Do you know how hard it is to differentiate the normal city smell from one scent in particular?”
The druid’s eyes narrowed, but Trent just gave her a lopsided grin, totally unrepentant for his breach of privacy, if the occasional trailing of his gaze to her cleavage was anything to go by. They stared down, Drey’s hands on her hips and Trent hovering over her. Finally, Drey turned with a huff, bending over and digging through a pile for clothes, acting like she didn’t feel Trent’s eyes raking over her. Once she pulled on a tank top and loose shorts she dug around some more and threw a ratty men’s t-shirt at the wolf’s face. He caught it midair with a smirk;
“You wear men’s clothes?”
“No, that’s an ex’s that was left here.”
Trent sniffed it then, making a face and growling as he dropped the offending article on the floor;
“No thanks, I’m fine without it.”
“You need a shirt.”
“It stinks.”
“Does not! I just washed it!”
“It still reeks.”
“If you are trying to tell me I smell bad…”
“No not you, I can smell someone else.”
“Okay, well you still need it, so-”
“No I don’t.”
“Yes, you do!”
“Why, is my shirtlessness distracting you?”
Trent grinned as Drey huffed once again;
“Whatever, don’t wear one then. But if you want to stay, you have to stop growling, it’s extremely rude.”
Trent’s eyes flashed and he shoved her down, pinning her to the bed with a blatant growl that reverberated through Drey’s chest;
“How can you hear that? How are you inside my head?”
Drey rolled her eyes, completely relaxed despite the threat of violence sitting atop her;
“Wow you are dramatic, aren’t you? I told you I am a druid.
We commune with nature and wolves are part of nature, right?”
Trent blinked, seeming to accept that answer, but otherwise didn’t budge, instead pushing for more answers;
“How did you find me before?”
“The spirits. They show me things and you happened to be one of those things.”
“How did you find my clothes?”
“Spirits.”
“Why are they fixated on bringing you to me?”
“No idea.”
“How did you do that to Damien?”
“Which part?”
“All of it.”
“Elementals and druid magic”
“How are you able to manipulate the souls of a living person?”
“I was taught in the commune.”
“How do I know you aren’t using black magic?”
“Our magic is different, not dark. Don’t you trust me by now?”
Trent balked and Drey just grinned, exhilarated by this man who she had shared more with within the past 12 hours than anyone else in her entire life.
“And why exactly should I trust you?”
“The wolf already does.”