When Fate Aligns: Book One of The Mortals and Mystics Series

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When Fate Aligns: Book One of The Mortals and Mystics Series Page 18

by A. K. Koonce


  My body sways under my feet. Asher grips my hand. He’s cold. Or I am? He presses something hard into my open hand. I look down slowly to see the Crimson Sword hanging in my fingers.

  He pushes my arm away and doesn’t look at me.

  My throat’s tight, and I struggle to breathe.

  He wants me to leave him. Again.

  This time he won’t make it. This time I won’t make it. None of us made it.

  We tried and we failed.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Wanderers Welcome

  I stumble into the trees as he pushes me harshly away. My feet only take a few rational steps before I fall to the ground. Feeling numb and heavy, my legs don’t coordinate beneath me. Leaves and branches press painfully into my bloody palms. I cry out in agony as branches tear into my gaping wound.

  I clench my teeth and pull my body along the forest floor. My fingertips and nails dig into the dirt as I heave myself slowly forward. My nails break off into the dry land, but my mind doesn’t register the small pain that is overclouded by the rest of my injuries burning into my nerves.

  The sword fisted in my palm slows down the little progress I’m making.

  Tears fall freely down my face; my breaths come slow and shuddery. My limbs are heavy under each inch I gain from my strenuous efforts.

  My fingers wrap around a small tree and I pull myself a few feet farther, the biggest accomplishment I’ve achieved so far. How much time has passed? I can’t see the house anymore or hear the veil tearing the flesh from my mother’s body. I can’t hear anything. I am alone.

  What was the point of it all? My eyes drift closed. I lie on my back, no longer feeling the leaves or the branches beneath me. The pain fades away as the blackness settles in. My hand stays pressed against my deep wound that’s still bleeding through my fingers.

  We came all that way. Miles and miles. So I could die here. Alone. In the forest that I’ve grown so familiar with. This is where fate led me?

  Everyone I’ve ever cared about is dead. Because of me.

  It was all for nothing.

  A branch breaks loudly through the quiet forest.

  My hand tightens around the hilt of the sword. But that’s it. There’s no more fight left in me. This is as much defense as I can muster.

  Death would be a courtesy at this point.

  Someone’s standing over me in the silence. I can feel their presence, like a reaper ready to collect.

  I can’t find the strength to open my tired eyes, but I feel their gaze on me. Like the forest has come to life around me to watch my final moments.

  Fingers touch my throat. They’re warm against my cold skin. The fingers linger at my pulse. I feel it thrum faintly against the pressure of his hand.

  I’m alive.

  Pain soars energy back into my body as a cold, harsh pressure is felt against my torso.

  “It’s just mud. It’s the best I can do right now. I’m sorry,” a gentle female voice says.

  I take short breathes, but it’s the most air I’ve gotten in a while. My head spins as she applies the mud again and another dose of pain burst into my veins, my posture going rigid against her touch.

  My body jostles around a bit uncomfortably in the silence until I’m settled against a warm body, my arm hoisted over her shoulders in a leaning position. She struggles to carry my weight, dragging my feet over the dry leaves.

  I clench my eyes closed again as we walk. Her steps are determined and hurried. My legs are unmoving and dragging behind us. Each of her steps registers a new wave of pain in my abdomen and leg. I start to wish for the numbness to return to me.

  My mind fades despite my will to stay awake.

  I don’t know how long the stranger carries me. The stents of sleep become longer and longer.

  The blinding light splays through the leaves above. I blink up at it, wanting it to warm me, but it doesn’t. I’m so cold.

  My legs touch the ground, and pain shoots up my spine on contact, but I don’t react. I don’t have the strength to react.

  The stranger lies me carefully on the ground, and leaves crunch under the weight of my body. Two figures appear in silhouette above me in the sunlight.

  Deep eyes like chocolate look down at me from time to time. So similar to Ky’s eyes.

  Ky …

  Something tugs at my memory. Where is he? Am I—

  Am I dead?

  The question doesn’t scare me. Death can’t be any worse. It can’t be worse than all the pain and all the loss and all the false hope.

  I blink slowly, trying to pull the figures into perspective. The blurriness fades, but it’s still hazy as I look up.

  My cloudy gaze is met with an intense stare. I look up at an angel with beautifully cursed silver eyes.

  And then I know, without a doubt.

  Death is the only explanation.

  ***

  “You can’t really expect me to heal her?”

  As soon as he speaks, my vision comes into focus, my conscious demanding to know who he is. My slow-pounding heart falters when I realize it isn’t Asher. A new sort of pain soars through me, my chest feeling heavy and empty all at the same time.

  Asher’s not here.

  “You want me to break the treaty to heal a girl who’s practically dead already?” The hybrid’s harsh and angry tone rises, his features are a blur of blonde hair and piercing bright eyes. The woman crosses her tan arms over her chest. My vision process their movements slowly.

  “You couldn’t leave her here to die, and you know it. Just do it already!” She speaks in a stream of words, not at all intimidated by the scowling hybrid.

  I can’t help but wonder where that confidence comes from within her.

  Slowly I blink, wanting desperately to fade back into the comforting darkness of my mind. I watch as the hybrid rakes his palm against his sharp canines. Blood spills down his hand and forearm, and I have to close my eyes when I realize what will happen next.

  I gasp when his hand touches my side; the pain drills through me at an alarming speed before dissolving into a warm and tingling sensation that furls through my abdomen like a current. The weight on my chest falls away, and I can breathe again. I don’t open my tired eyes; the healed wound only causes me to relax further into myself.

  “It’s going to scar and might take some time to fully heal. Something … unnatural did this to her,” the hybrid says in a curious voice.

  Together, they hoist me to my feet, my legs stumbling to keep up with them. The pain from my leg is nearly forgotten with the hybrid’s blood coursing through my body.

  I try to stay awake. I try to keep my heavy lids open as we travel a few yards deeper into the woods. A wide and elderly looking tree catches my attention as we pass. Jagged words cut deep into the bark beckon to me:

  Wanderers Welcome

  “You’re safe,” the woman whispers to me as we pass the strange tree.

  The two of them look at each other over my heavy head and pause before taking a deliberate and careful step forward, almost as if they’re stepping over an invisible line.

  The forest goes quiet; the breeze and the heat of the sun and the wildlife fall away as we enter … something. A blinding light flashes, and I can physically feel a force passing through me like a jolt of electricity. I fling my head up, blinking rapidly at our new surroundings.

  People bustle about, hundreds of them laughing and talking among themselves at wooden tables and near huts scattered throughout the area. No one else appears to have the signature hybrid eyes, but they are definitely not human. The way they move, gracefully and predatorily, gives them away for what they really are.

  A few of them stop what they’re doing and hurriedly bring me water and clean bandages. The mystics have stopped to help the human girl. With wide eyes, I watch them all as I gulp down the cold and comforting water and allow them to lower me onto a boulder to inspect my wounds. The woman who found me in the woods stays at my side, offering a worried
smile that touches her dark chocolate, animalistic eyes.

  It’s then that I remember Asher’s words of the community of hiding mystics.

  It really does exist.

  And now I’m here in the safety of their large group, drinking down the heavy pain that has lodged in my chest from the past few days.

  I’m here without Asher, without Ky and without my mother. I’m alone.

  Safe but alone.

  THE END

  Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed When Fate Aligns. Your thoughts on this book are always appreciated and important to authors and readers; even just a one sentence review is helpful. Send Fallon, Asher, and even Ripper your thoughts and feedback by leaving a REVIEW. For inside details, updates, a free never-before-seen prologue in Asher’s POV and other amazing giveaways sign up for my monthly VIP NEWSLETTER.

  Fallon’s journey continues. Look for When Fate Unravels, book two of the Mortals and Mystics series releasing September 15, 2017! Click HERE to order it today!

  Also by A.K. Koonce

  Fate of the Hybrid, Prequel of the Mortals and Mystics Series

  Releasing Soon

  When Fate Unravels, Book two of the Mortals and Mystics Series

  Resurrection Island, Book one

  A Crown of Shadows, Book one of the Fae Fire Series

  If you want to stay informed about my books and characters visit my WEBSITE , FACEBOOKor TWITTER .

  About the Author

  A.K. Koonce is a mom by day and a fantasy and paranormal romance author by night. She keeps the fantastical stories in her mind on an endless loop, while she tries her best to focus on her actual life and not that of the spectacular but demanding fictional characters who always fill her thoughts.

  Acknowledgments

  I couldn’t have finished a single book without my support group: my friends; family; and, of course, my husband and daughter.

  I want to emphasize how amazing my beta readers are. Courtney, Nikki, and Jessica, thank you for always highlighting the beautiful parts of these stories and for not rioting every time a character came to their eminent death. You guys put the time into helping me really bring these books to life.

  Sending all my thanks to my sister Angie, who’s always my partner in creativity and also my best friend. Thank you to my parents for supporting my weirdness, encouraging me to read at a young age, and for reminding me that I can do anything I want to do in life.

  A huge shout out to my fantastic cover designer, Desiree Deorto, for creating a gorgeous image for this book.

  A special thanks to my editor, The Red Ribbon, for catching every incorrect thing I scribble out. Thank you for making this book as perfect as it can be and polishing it into something beautiful.

  Thank you to my husband for always entertaining my eccentricity and supporting me even when I did not. A thanks to my beautiful daughter for unknowingly bringing me to this path in life and for being the most amazing kid a parent could ever ask for.

  And a final thank you to you, the reader and supporter of the characters I have come to love. Thank you for taking the time to read about worlds outside of our own. You are the reason I write at all and you are the reason I love what I do.

 

 

 


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