Shifters Forever Worlds Epic Collection Volume 3

by Elle Thorne

  She recalled Jaron calling Alara a… what was it? Oh, yeah. “You can do that because you’re a mage?” she asked.

  “Some who are not mages can do it.”

  “So, this world of yours…”

  “This is similar to the world I lived in.”

  “So, it’s not exactly the world you lived in?”

  “No, not exactly. Our worlds, the ones we create when we are in a host’s mind, they are based on each individual. For some, it is a version of what they fear, or what they love, or what they know. So, for me, it is similar to what I have known. Not what I have feared—”

  “What have you feared?”

  Alara pursed her lips. “I have only had one fear, really.” She stared off into the distance. “The only thing I feared was never finding Jaron.”

  “But now you have found him.”

  “Now, I have.” Alara’s expression was resolute.

  “So, you have no fears.”

  “Now I have a new fear, that I will not be able to be with him. The way I want to. The way I’ve waited for eons.”

  Symone wondered what a love like that would be like. Marco’s image crossed her mind.

  Now, why the hell did I just think of him?

  She shoved that train of thought aside. “Tell me about your people.” She found herself liking Alara. There was something about her. Something. But she couldn’t put her finger on it.

  “Ah. My people. My people lived on this earth eons ago. An ancient civilization, peaceful, and highly skilled in the arts of the arcane—controlling the elements, weather, casting fire, electricity, drawing water from the environment, cloaking, even mind penetration. We used to be flesh and blood. Now, we elementals are non-corporeal beings. Not flesh nor blood, more like spirits, if one were to use the terminology used today. We’ve been reluctant to reveal our history, and only would do so under the most special of conditions.”

  “What were your people called? Did your civilization have a name?”

  “Zimoshi.”

  “What language is that?”

  “It is an ancient language that has become extinct, except for those few of us who remain in the world—imprisoned in the bodies of our hosts.”

  “So, long ago, the Zimoshi—” She looked at Alara for affirmation on her pronunciation.

  Alara offered a nod.

  Symone continued. “—were flesh and blood, but now they are not.”

  “Correct. The Zimoshi lived a distance from another group, one that had at some point in time been an ally to the Zimoshi—the Barabins. Unfortunately, a Barabin and a Zimoshi fell in love. Their parents did not approve, so the two eloped. The young woman died while the two were seeking to make a life elsewhere. The young man brought her body back. Of course, it was accidental, but the Barabin blamed the young Zimoshi man. They called for his death to make it even. As if that would really have lessened their pain. The young man was one of our chieftain’s sons. Naturally, he refused to turn his son over to the Barabin so he could be executed.”

  Symone nodded. She could only imagine that meant war.

  “The Zimoshi were attacked by the Barabins. It was no surprise, in some ways. There had always been a measure of envy because of the skills my people had. The Zimoshi were taken hostage, forced to use our gifts to perform feats for the Barabins, like bringing rain, creating fire, fighting the Zimoshi enemies with electricity.”

  Symone chewed on her lip at the sorrow that Alara described. “But with skills like that, why didn’t they kill their captors?”

  Alara made a sound of disgust, then sniffled, her dark eyes glistening with tears. “Because the Barabins took the children and kept them hidden. And if they had cause to think my people had stepped out of line, then they would slaughter the Zimoshi children.”

  “Jesus. That would tie their hands, wouldn’t it?”

  Alara nodded. “The Zimoshi were split in terms of what to do. One group wanted to kill the Barabins, though they knew that meant a certain death for the children, while the other half wanted to keep the status quo and find another way to get free of the Barabins.”

  Alara stared off into the distance of the bright desert lands. She was silent for so long that Symone felt she shouldn’t disturb her.

  And still, Alara remained quiet, completely unmoving.

  Finally, Symone said, “Alara?”

  She turned her obsidian gaze away from the horizon and focused on Symone. “My apologies. I have not told this story—” she shook her head, as though in disbelief, “—ever.”

  “I’m having a problem connecting the dots. How did the Zimoshi go from being a people to being spirits?” Symone supposed that was the best word for it.

  “An annihilation ensued. First, there was an uprising, then the Zimoshi were slaughtered. And there was one—who with an arcane skill managed to resurrect the dead ones. This came with a cost. The price was that the resurrected ones could not survive outside of a host’s body, unless one had the skill to counter the enchantment.”

  “A skill you have.”

  “A skill I do have.”

  Symone waited.

  Alara continued. “And there was a restriction. We cannot kill our own kind. We will be brought to judgment over it. It was law then, and it is law now. It will have been unwise for any of our kind not to have heeded this.”

  She studied Alara’s distant expression on her noble profile. How could she relate to this woman so easily, so completely?

  Alara turned to her, a slight smile on her face. “It is nice to be able to talk to someone who wields magic, even though it is not the same type of magic I practice.”

  Symone returned the smile.

  “Let us walk, shall we? Explore the area?”

  “Can we? What of the other world? My world. Do I not need to be there?”

  “Time does not really pass in the same way while you are here with me. The only thing we must be sure of, completely sure of, is that we cannot be in danger while in my world—or any elemental’s, for that matter.”

  “Because?”

  “If we were to die in here, we would be stuck in here.”

  Symone flinched. “Ouch.” She looked around. “But we are not in danger here, are we?”

  “I have never encountered any issues.”

  I don’t think I’d call that a no. But Symone did not give voice to that thought.

  They strode through the sand, toward a group of buildings built of sunbaked mud bricks a few shades darker than the silky sand they walked on.

  Tiny grains of sand found its way under between Symone’s sole and her sandal. She knelt and untied leather straps, removing the sandals, and carried them.

  Randomly, out of the blue, Alara said, “I wonder how Marco is managing all of this.”

  Symone tore her eyes from the stunning visage of the sunny horizon and glanced at Alara. “All of what?”

  “My entering his mind, hiding there, cloaking myself, then plotting with Jaron to separate the two of them and to build a community. Jaron has been with Marco since he was born, and he is a shifter. That is no short time, you realize.”

  Symone nodded. She knew that shifters, like witches, were beings with longevity.

  “He was striding through the airport and talking to Jaron in his mind. Jaron is such an unusual name. It caught my attention. Then I felt Jaron’s presence.” Alara sighed. “I was dumbfounded. I froze. My pulse raced at hearing my love’s voice again, after all that time.” Her voice was thick.

  Symone paused, put her hand on Alara’s to stop her from taking another step. “It must have been a shock.”

  Alara swallowed. “I—I couldn’t get into Marco’s mind quickly enough. He doubled over in pain but had no idea what had happened to him. You see, he was not familiar with the feeling of one of us entering or departing his body, as he was an infant when Jaron entered his body, so Marco did not understand what had happened. Now he knows. Now that Jaron and I have done this—” She gave Symone an a
ppraising glance, “—you know. You know the sensation of having an elemental enter.”

  Symone nodded, not speaking because she didn’t want to disrupt Alara’s story.

  “I cloaked my existence immediately so that his panther did not know I was there. Odd, sharing the space with that feline. Jaron does not seem to mind it, but he says that typically there is friction between the shifter animal and the elemental. Some elementals have even killed the shifter, and the host.”

  Alara fell silent after that. Silent and unmoving.

  “I can’t imagine,” Symone murmured.

  “I remember the first time I discovered that I could live outside of a host. It is one thing to think that you can, that your skills and learning will allow you to do that. It is quite another to attempt it, to jump in without assurances.” She started to walk again without saying a word, all the way to the village, then stopped in front of one of the buildings at the end of an alley. “Shall we?” Alara indicated the entrance which held no door, but instead a curtain of rough, thick fabric. She pushed it aside, revealing a dark interior.

  Symone stepped inside. It was cooler here, and while her eyes adjusted to the dimness, she heard the sounds of stone striking metal.

  Seconds later, a candle flickered to life. Then another.

  “I am not one for darkness,” Alara whispered, waving toward a table with two chairs, and taking one for herself, then setting the instruments for starting a fire on the tabletop.

  “Agreed.” Symone sat across from her.

  “I looked for Jaron for an eternity. And now I have found him. Those fairy tales with their happily ever afters, I never believed in those. Until now.” Her eyes glittered in the candlelight’s flames. “Now I can envision my people united again. United and in the flesh. And it is within my touch. I can feel it. I can almost taste it.”

  Symone didn’t know what to say to this. She remained silent, watching the woman with the determined set in her jaw.

  “It is your turn.”

  Symone sucked in a breath. She felt she could trust Alara, but where could she start? What should she say and what should she withhold from this powerful mage who could travel into minds?

  Chapter Fifteen

  Marco shifted into his human form as he approached the area where he’d left Symone. He slipped out from behind a tree, hoping he didn’t startle her, but found himself disconcerted instead by the sight that he beheld.

  Symone was in a sitting position, leaning against a tree trunk.

  Odd place to rest.

  The dog was next to her, his large paws on her legs. He turned his impressive head toward Marco, his tail thumping against the ground.

  “Hey,” Marco greeted the dog. Max, she’d called him the first time Marco laid eyes on her. “Max.”

  Symone didn’t move or acknowledge his presence. Just kept staring straight ahead.

  “Symone, perhaps I owe you an apology.”

  Thump, thump, Max’s tail went.

  But nothing from Symone.

  Oh, come on. Surely one little kiss—and some vine and elemental fighting—hadn’t pissed her off so much she’d pretend he didn’t exist. Marco stepped closer, and yet she remained eerily still, her eyes unblinking, her gaze fixed straight ahead, and yet unfocused.

  He kneeled before her and stared into her face.

  Something was very wrong. She was frozen, unmoving. Was she even breathing? He watched her closely. Her chest moved up and down, barely, as though her breathing was shallow.

  Panic hit him.

  Shit. Shit. And damn. Cedric and Jenner would kill him if—

  He pushed that away. He was not going to think of what ifs. She was breathing. She’d be okay.

  “What the hell is going on with you,” he whispered.

  Max rewarded him with a soft whine.

  “That’s no help at all, Max,” he muttered under his breath.

  She’s in Alara’s world, Jaron told him in his mind.

  What the hell?

  And then he thought of Dina, of Astra, of what Circe had told him, how she herself had been in the elemental’s world.

  Do you have a world?

  I do.

  Are you telling me that Alara is in Symone, right now? And that while in there, she’s taken her to her world?

  Must have, what else could explain this? I am not well versed in the world traversing. That is not a gift I have. Your sister’s elemental can do this. Alara can do this.

  Jaron was lucky he was in Marco’s head, because Marco wanted to shake him. Will Symone be okay?

  A long pause followed.

  The only thing that would make her not okay is if she were to die while in that world.

  Marco was ready to lose his shit. What? Hell, no. I can’t have that. Take us there or get Alara to bring her out. Now.

  Jaron paused, then answered, how am I to do that?

  Fine. I’ll talk to her myself.

  Alara. Please. Bring her back. If she is hurt, somehow, then there will be hell to pay. Seriously. If I were to be responsible for her death—and it will be deemed that I was, trust me—then the witches will take issue with the shifters. There will be war.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Well, you already know I’m a witch.” How much should Symone tell Alara about the Circle? They weren’t supposed to discuss the Circle with outsiders, not in detail anyway, and yet, Alara had told her so very much about her people, herself, everything.

  “Yes, and I know what Jaron told me about the two warlocks—Cedric and Jenner, were their names, I think—that they invited Marco here. And I saw them when we met them at the island airport.”

  “Right. My half-brothers. They work on the north side of the globe. I work in the southern hemisphere.”

  “Work? By work, what do you mean?”

  “That is where it is tricky. You see, I’m part of an organization that is low key, perhaps some would call it secretive—I suppose it is—and we…” Symone heaved a sigh. How do you tell someone about something without telling them anything that you shouldn’t? “We serve as a ruling body, sometimes a jury, other times, we aid those who need help. Our kind of help.” Symone paused, trying to think of what else to tell her.

  Alara raised her hand. “Apologies for interrupting. It seems Marco is in quite a state of frustration. He is here. Not here in my world, but standing next to your body, and he’s concerned.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you are leaning against a tree, unconscious, with your eyes open.”

  Symone raised a brow, then laughed. “Serves him right. He’s a jerk.”

  “You think so? As someone who has traveled within his body for more than just a few days, I found him to be a decent man.”

  “Whose side are you on?” Symone crossed her arms.

  Alara’s eyes widened slightly. “I was unaware that sides were being selected.”

  Symone shook her head. “What do you need to do?”

  “Here are the options. We bring him here. And you can tell me what you have to say. Or we can do all of this in the flesh. Including bringing Jaron out. But either way, that would mean anything you tell me will be known by Marco.”

  “I don’t know him. I don’t know if I can trust him. The things I was going to tell you, the places I wanted to show you—

  “I suppose my few days with him is not enough for me to vouch for him to your satisfaction. Perhaps I can allay your concerns in a different way. Give you some insight into this man. Who he is. What his people are. My Jaron has been with him a long time, and he has told me about him. You can trust him. And you can trust Jaron. Just as I have trusted you with so much.”

  Symone mulled it over. “Okay. Then let’s do this.” She would have to push aside her distrust for him—and her attraction to him—that’s all there was to it.

  Alara took her hand. “First, we’ll leave this world, then I’ll exit your mind.”

  Symone nodded. “Got it.”

  “
Some discomfort when I leave you. Understand?”

  “If it was anything like when you came in, that’s an understatement.”

  Alara squeezed her fingertips. “I am sorry for that. However, I am so thrilled I have become acquainted with you.”

  “Likewise.”

  Symone blinked. She was out of the room in that sunbaked brick house in Alara’s world and on the Circle’s island near Trinidad between the Caribbean Sea and the North Atlantic.

  Max nudged her, his nose cold against her cheek. She hugged his neck, then put her arms behind her against the tree to push off to a stand.

  “What the hell?” Marco. To her right, next to the tree, glaring at her. He took her arm, helping her to her feet. “Are you okay? You had me damned worried. Your brothers would kill me—hell, the whole Circle would start a war with shifters—if you were hurt.”

  Symone shook her head. “I’m fi—”

  She doubled over, an agonizing surge pushing through her body. She gasped.

  Discomfort. Truly an understatement.

  Looking up, Symone saw Alara next to her, sorrow in her eyes. “Again, I am sorry. If there were a way to do that without pain…”

  “I understand.” Symone groaned the words out.

  “Alara, what in the world do you think you are doing? You can’t play fast and loose with this. What if you caused her harm? You can’t just jump into people’s bodies on a whim. Especially in the mind of a witch of the Circle. That is trespassing.”

  Alara appraised Marco coolly. “I have no idea what you are talking about. I do not know what a Circle witch is.”

  Symone shook her head to clear it. She jabbed a finger in Marco’s chest. A very muscular chest. “Who are you to talk about trespassing? It’s not like you bothered to get my permission when you kissed me.”

  Marco’s eyes widened slightly, before closing again. His jaw muscles worked.

  Symone wasn’t done, though. “And by the way, she had permission. So that’s hardly trespassing. Unlike your actions.”

  “If you two are through with your quibbling,” Alara barely contained a smile, “I would like to have Jaron join us.”