Hunted: Alba's Story (Destined Book 5)
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HUNTED
Alba’s Story
Destined Series, Book 5
KAYLIN LEE
HUNTED: ALBA’S STORY
Copyright © 2019 by Kaylin Lee
First Edition
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
For information contact:
Kaylin Lee
http://www.kaylinleewrites.com
ISBN: 9781077516526
Editing by Kathrese McKee of Word Marker Edits
Cover design by Victoria Cooper Designs
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Epilogue
The Destined Series
Book 1 – Fated: Cinderella’s Story
Book 2 – Hidden: Rapunzel’s Story
Book 3 – Twisted: Belle’s Story
Book 4 – Betrayed: Ruby’s Story
Book 5 – Hunted: Alba's Story
Book 6 – Cursed: Briar Rose’s Story – Coming Soon
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For military kids everywhere
No man is more unhappy than he who never faces adversity. For he is not permitted to prove himself.
Seneca
Chapter 1
Tap.
I rubbed my puffy, sleep-encrusted eyes, rolled to put my back to the bright window, and pulled my quilt over my head.
Tap. Tap.
The sound was muffled by the blanket but just as insistent. I opened my eyes in the dim cave I’d made under the covers.
How could it be morning already? I’d just gone to sleep minutes ago!
It was possible I’d stayed up too late listening to my newest fabulator crystal. I stretched and cringed at the soreness in my neck. The drama’s twisted story kept sucking me in, especially since I didn’t have to be up early for classes at the Mage Academy.
Screech. Something bumped the other side of the wall I shared with my twin. Briar Rose was moving the furniture for her morning exercise routine. That meant she’d been up for an hour, studying like a maniac. She’d earned her spot as a tracker mage on an elite team of Sentinels a month ago, but apparently, she still couldn’t let herself take a break.
I shifted in bed, groaning as daylight filtered in through a crack in the blankets. A sharp object jabbed me in the side. “Ack!” I flung the blankets off my head, squinted around, and discovered the culprit, my fabulator crystal.
The pale-green crystal was no bigger than my thumb, but its gloriously long, dramatic story had kept me up every night for the past week. I hunted through my blankets until I found a larger, darker-green crystal—the power source. I held it up to the window. The crystal’s center sparkled and glowed. Good. It still had power left.
One more scene couldn’t hurt, could it?
I pressed the crystals together. The actors picked up where the drama had left off, their disembodied voices as clear as if they were in my room.
“—you do this to me?” The young lady let out a gut-wrenching sob. “I’ll never convince Anton to trust me again.”
“Good! You aren’t worthy of his trust.”
“But the truth was far more complicated than either girl knew,” the narrator intoned.
Music swelled then quieted as a new scene began. I lay back in bed and relaxed as the tale’s latest twist washed over me.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
I’d forgotten the message! A flutter in my chest had me sitting up quickly. Alaric. Was he finally ready to introduce me to his parents?
We’d kept our flirtation subtle from the start, an unspoken agreement to avoid making waves in Asylian society. I was a mage, after all, and his bloodline was one of the purest in the city. Just because mages were now citizens under the law didn’t mean pureblood Procus families wanted their sons to marry into magic.
Unfortunately, the subtlety had started to chafe—for me, at least.
Alaric had been hinting at deeper feelings for weeks, but whenever I suggested we meet each other’s family, he would change the subject or distract me with a kiss. At some point, we would have to move forward, wouldn’t we? No matter how many waves we’d make?
My stomach soured like I’d just eaten a spoiled lemonburst cream wisp. I stared at the curtains. Maybe I didn’t want to know what this message said, after all.
Who was I kidding? The chance of a thrilling victory with Alaric was well worth the risk of another disappointment.
I pulled the crystals apart to pause the actors’ dialogue and widened the gap in my curtains.
A small, shiny metallic bird tapped its beak on the window with jerky, mage-craft movements. I cracked the window open to let the bird to hop in. Cold, wet, early-spring wind rushed in before I shoved it closed.
The bird shook its hard, bronze feathers, spraying droplets of rain around my room, then it dropped its message on my desk. Mission complete, it waddled to its perch on the spindly, metallic branch that matched the one in Alaric’s room, its tail twitching with what I could have sworn was annoyance.
Thump, thump, thump, thump. Bri’s training routine continued next door.
I moved a pile of clean, yet-to-be-folded laundry from my desk chair to the bed, then I sat and took a deep breath. Time to face the next plot twist in our romance. My fingers trembled as I unrolled his message.
Darling Alba,
I was awake all night, so intense was my yearning for your beauty. I hope I am not the only one who was sleepless with longing last night.
I bit my lip and tried not to smile. I’d lost sleep, it was true, but that had been the fabulator crystal’s fault, not Alaric’s. No need to tell him that.
You’ve enraptured me. I cannot stop thinking of your raven hair, your flawless, snow-white skin, and your perfect, red lips, more precious to me than rubies. I must see you, darling. I’ll perish if I go another day without your beauty.
Come to our villa this afternoon for the coffee hour. I cannot wait any longer to show your beauty off to my family. They will all be jealous, and they should be, for my heart is yours.
I read the note a second time, then a third, trying to commit his words to memory, letting them sink into my bones and warm me like a mug of hot chocolate on a snowy, winter day. I’d dreamed of this victory since I
was a child, and now it was here. Against all odds, a Procus lord had fallen in love with me. Me!
I’d done it.
“Bri!” The jubilant word slipped out before I could catch it.
The rhythmic noise in her room paused.
I held my breath. Would she speak to me?
The thumping resumed, faster and louder than ever.
I released my breath in a relieved sigh. Bri hadn’t cared about my life in years. She would say something cruel and ruin the triumphant moment anyway.
The mage-craft paper buzzed and sparkled between my fingers as I gently rubbed Alaric’s words until they dissolved off the page.
I’ll be there.
I … I let my pencil hover over the paper. Long for you? Dreamed of you last night? Want to be yours? I can’t wait. There. Simple and to-the-point.
The old Bri—the sister who had loved me—would have approved.
~
When I went downstairs, the kitchen smelled like burnt coffee. “What happened in here?” I wrinkled my nose as my mother fanned a metal contraption and grumbled something unintelligible under her breath.
“This worthless thing is supposed to brew coffee without cinderslick.” Mom wrapped her hand in a towel, grabbed the offending pot, and dumped it in the sink. “I bought it at the Mage Market yesterday. I was afraid it wouldn’t get hot enough to brew the coffee, but no.” She scowled. “It got so hot, it cooked the coffee to death.”
“Of course.” I rubbed my eyes, digging sleep out of the corners. “Forget that thing. Let’s make it the old-fashioned way.”
She raised an eyebrow, her lips turning up in a teasing smile. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say that before. ‘The old-fashioned way?’ Definitely not in the past five years. I thought every newfangled magical invention was better than the old way by default.”
“I know, I know …” Too tired to be teased, I reached around her to the shelf where we kept a stash of Ella’s frosted winterdrop rolls. “I’m desperate this morning.” I took a bite of the soft, chewy roll and moaned at the comforting taste. “Where’d you put the old coffee pot? I’ll do it.”
She handed me our familiar, slightly-rusted percolator and wiggled her eyebrows. “Let me guess. Anton and Despina sucked you in to their nonsense again.”
I laughed around my mouthful of winterdrop frosting. “How did you know?” The words came out jumbled, and I might have sprayed a crumb or two. But my mom just grinned.
She pointed to the dark circles under her eyes. “They got me too.”
“Mom …” I swallowed the last of my roll and wiped frosting from my lips. “Alaric winged me this morning.”
She stilled, her smile fading slightly. “And what did he say?”
“He wants me to meet his family!” I squeezed my hands together. “Can you believe it? After all these years—”
“Honey, are you sure you want to meet them?” She cocked her head and tucked her loose, blonde hair behind her ear. “I know you’ve been talking to Alaric for a few months now, but do you really think he’s right for you?”
I jerked my head back. “You haven’t even met him.”
“I know.” She paused, letting her words hang in the air between us.
I bit my lip. I should have introduced him ages ago, but something just hadn’t felt quite—
“Just because he’s a Procus lord doesn’t mean he’d be a good man to marry.” She held up her hands, palms facing me. “That’s all I’m saying.”
“He’s a wonderful man. You’ll realize that as soon as you meet him.” I tugged on the end of my braid. “And I like him for who he is, not just because he’s a Procus lord. He’s so …”
I chewed on my lip. Why was I drawing a blank? I liked Alaric. He was so … so … “Handsome and funny.”
Well, sometimes he was unintentionally funny, especially when he got so caught up in his flowery metaphors that he mixed up their meanings. “And brave.”
Probably. He would be, if he ever had reason to be. And why would I want a man who needed to be brave, anyway? A good husband would be one who stayed safe, who stayed near me. I shook my head. “Anyway, the point is, I know what I’m doing. You’ll see. Everything will be fine.”
She smiled wryly. “I’m sure you do. Just wanted to make sure you weren’t getting in over your head.”
Footsteps thudded on the stairs, and Mom’s smile vanished. Bri entered the kitchen wearing her weatherproofed jacket over her simple, gray dress, her boots laced up and her satchel over her shoulder.
“Morning, honey,” my mom said softly, releasing my shoulder and facing Bri with a hopeful expression.
My sister nodded and dodged past her to grab an apple from the bowl on the table, not even bothering to meet Mother’s eyes.
I crossed my arms and leaned against the kitchen counter. Bri’s coldness hurt more every time she stole the joy from our mother’s face.
Mother and Bri were so alike in appearance—golden hair, golden skin, tall, athletic builds, and lovely faces—but so different in every other way.
Our mother was strict, but she was also warm, loving, and affectionate.
Bri was an icicle—frozen, cold, and lethally sharp.
“I’m going upstairs,” my mom mumbled, her gaze on the floor.
I glared at Bri as she chomped on her apple, but she ignored me. I prepared the coffee with jerky movements, wishing I could chuck the percolator at her. She’d probably just catch it with perfect reflexes and fling it right back at me.
A series of heavy bumps came from the staircase beside the kitchen. Dad was up! My spirits brightened. He bypassed the kitchen and went to the back hallway without a word.
I wiped my wet hands on my robe as my pulse sped up. There was only one reason Dad would be in the back hallway first thing in the morning. “Where is Dad going?”
Bri lifted one shoulder but didn’t look at me. “Mission.” She dropped her apple core in the trash and filled her Sentinel issue canteen with water at the kitchen faucet.
“Dad?” I edged out of the kitchen to the back hallway. He stood in front of the tall storage closet, shoving his Sentinel gear into a large, worn, black backpack. “Dad!”
He glanced over his shoulder and smiled. “Morning, Alba.”
“Bri said you have another mission.” My voice shook. “I thought you were done going to the Badlands until summer at least. Maybe even fall.”
A frown flashed across his face. He ran his hand over his thick, gray-brown beard. “I had to fill in for another team leader at the last minute.” He propped his pack against the wall and approached me. “Just a few days, sweetheart. We’re checking out the western edge of the Gold Hills one more time. Got another tip from Opal and her husband. Remember them?” He grinned. “You used to love looking after their little girls when they would come brief the Sentinels.”
I crossed my arms and took an automatic step back. I wasn’t going to be distracted by a silly old memory. “You’ve checked the western edge a thousand times. There’s nothing there.”
“Alba—”
“And I don’t understand why it has to be you.” My voice grew shrill, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. “You’re the most senior Sentinel. You’re the commander! You should send someone else.” Some other girl’s father.
“I’ll be fine, honey. You don’t have to worry about me. Like you said, we’ve cleared the area before. We know the Masters aren’t there. It’s been four years since any Sentinel team has encountered so much as a curse. We just need to check out a few rumors, make sure the local Badlanders are safe.”
“The local Badlanders?” I was so sick of having this conversation. “Who cares about them? I’m the one who needs—”
“Alba.” My mother’s icy tone pierced the hallway. “That’s enough.”
I tightened my arms over my stomach and stepped back until I was against the wall, sandwiched between my mother and father on either end of the hallway. Wasn’t that fitting? Ju
st like we were trapped in this endless cycle of goodbyes and reunions, instead of staying at home together like a normal Asylian family. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. It’s enough. He’s done enough.” My voice rose from a whine to a shriek. “I want someone else to go!”
My father exchanged a resigned glance with my mother and shook his head. “I’m going to do my job, Alba,” he said quietly. “I’m going on this mission. And when it ends, I’m going to come home to you girls, just like I do every time. I won’t let you down.”
“Well, you can’t control everything, Dad. And it’s not like you haven’t let us down before.” I darted past my mother and stormed back into the kitchen so I wouldn’t have to see him flinch at my words.
Bri gave no sign that she’d overheard my tantrum. Her focus was on her satchel, whose contents she was rearranging with obsessive efficiency. I stared at her hands, watching her brusque movements and replaying my words to my father in my mind. I felt queasy.
Why had I let my feelings show so blatantly? I hated feeling so … so … needy. I was the one my parents could count on for affection and cheer. I shouldn’t have poisoned what could be our last morning together.
My mom’s quiet footsteps sounded on the kitchen tile behind me. She slid her arm around my back. “That wasn’t how you were planning to say goodbye, was it?”
I leaned against her, tucking my head against her shoulder like I was still a child. As her steady, warm presence soothed me, I felt my anger subside. “It wasn’t.” My voice was hoarse. “I just …” I squeezed my eyes closed and leaned in to her shoulder. “Goodbye gets harder every time. It seems like it should be getting easier, not harder.”
“You love deeply, Alba. It’s the most beautiful thing about you.” She pulled away and nudged me, waiting until I met her gaze before she continued. “It’s never going to be easy to be apart from someone you love, especially when they may be in danger. The only way to protect your heart right now would be to love your father less. I don’t see you doing that, do you?”