War of thrones, p.1
War of Thrones, page 1
part #5 of Half-Blood Huntress Chronicles Series
War of Thrones
Half-Blood Huntress Chronicles: 5
D.D. Miers
Graceley Knox
Praise for D.D. Miers & Graceley Knox
“The dawn of a new age of vampire.” - Crafting Geeky Bibliophile
"Thirst is the first in a new series from the writing team of Graceley Knox and D. D. Miers. Whatever they are doing, they are doing it right because Thirst had me riveted." - Tome Tender Book Blog
"The premise for Thirst is so unique... And these aren't just vampires, they are Kresova." - IB Book Blogging
“If you haven’t read any books by Graceley Knox or D. D. Miers well get busy because you are missing out on two very gifted story weavers!" - Goodreads Reviewer
"A CRAZY, WILD, INSANE RIDE THAT KEPT ME ON THE LEDGE" - Marie's Tempting Reads
War of Thrones Copyright © 2019 by D.D. Miers & Graceley Knox
All rights reserved.
All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $ 250,000.
Cover Design by: Yocla 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
Epilogue
Also By Graceley Knox & D.D. Miers
About the Authors
Prologue
Chapter One - Thirst
One
Niall raced from one end of the field to the other with Geallta on his back (the former wearing a look of concentration, the latter shrieking in delight) as they tried to edge out Grayson and Bonnie in the last leg of the relay.
The moon was full and bright as it rose from behind the hills across the bay, reflecting a soft glow over the clearing and the beach just beyond. It wasn’t necessary to see, but I was pleased to feel like one of the old gods was smiling down on us as we celebrated our union with the pack…finally.
“Faster Niall, they’re pulling ahead!” I shouted at them, almost choking on my laughter.
He did as he was told, but Geallta's childish antics threw him off balance and Gray continued to gain.
“You didn’t think your wedding reception would be some fancy shindig with caviar and champagne, did you?” Rachelle laughed at my consternation.
“No, I just can’t believe Niall chose Geallta over me for the relay. Look at her, she’s leaning every which way, slowing him down. He might as well have handed the win to Gray’s team.”
Niall set our latest (and oldest) Fae foster-child down and held her as she collapsed into his arms with bright laughter that floated to us across the field.
Geallta was the oldest person in the pack, literally hundreds of years old, but had spent most of them trapped in a prison that leeched the magic from her body and the sanity from her mind. Just thinking about how Id found her, dirty, alone, and talking to her reflection in a childish voice was enough to make me shudder at the memory.
We’d watched her heal, slowly beginning to remember what it was to be a person, independent and more whole by inches, until finally she’d stood up for herself and refused to go to the Unseelie court with her half-brother, its new king.
"They won, Morgan!" She shouted, waving her arms gleefully. "Gray won the relay, aren't you proud?"
Grayson turned, surprise on his face, then grinned. “She’d be prouder if you won, Gee.” He tucked her silver hair behind one ear. “Did you help us win?”
“Niall was boastful,” she replied, in a stage whisper heard by everyone in the clearing, and possibly as far as the parking lot, considering the preternatural hearing of shape-shifters. “He needs some humbling.”
“Typical Fae, turning everything into a lesson,” Niall grumbled as he grabbed a beer. But his griping belied the grin that he tried to hide in the tub of beers buried in ice. Everyone loved Geallta. It was impossible not to feel protective of her, as though every part of her was made to seem fragile. But I'd seen a fire in her eyes that contradicted her thin, pointed face and adolescent figure.
The summer night was still cooling from an ungodly temperature, the summer highs cresting at almost one-hundred-ten degrees before they'd consented to begin to dip in the early evening.
I’d always been cool, like other Fae, but since gaining my animal and becoming a shifter in truth and not just by title, I’d gained higher body temperatures and the appetite of one as well.
Not tonight, though. I took a measured breath and released it through my nose to control another wave of nausea. I blamed the heat and the changes to my body and magic for the headaches and nausea that would suddenly set up camp in my head and make the world spin.
I sipped my iced tea, enviously watching everyone else down bottles of craft beer. The beer was local, as was the catering, and they were shifter-owned businesses, which made me happy to see. But for me, iced tea was about all that was appetizing.
I couldn’t even remember ever being ill before, even in childhood. After all, I was a one of a kind creature. Without the old pack witch to help, Gray and the senior pack members had warned me that there was no telling what new and fun challenges I’d come across.
As if in reply, the Fae-cat inside me awoke, the shifter magic rubbing along my insides like a real cat would rub against her human’s ankles. It wasn’t aggressive or overt, but I glanced down at my hands that had lengthened into claws and groaned aloud.
“Does this ever stop?”
Rachelle and Noah shared a look and a chuckle at my expense. “Don’t feel too sorry for yourself,” Noah grinned. “I was going through that” he pointed at my hands, “at the same time as I discovered wet dreams.”
I grimaced in sympathy. “Okay, you win, that would be worse.”
Noah handed me his beer and ran off to join the next field game, where men and women had already lined up behind boulders they would throw to see who could get theirs all the way into the ocean.
At the first whiff of hoppy ale, his beer joined several other unattended bottles on the table, further from my sensitive nose, and Rachelle and I joined the spectators cheering on their respective teams. (though most of them simply cheered for Grayson, as their alpha... Brown nosers.)
We’d separated into teams based on strength, which precluded Gray and I playing for the same side. My team had managed to edge out Gray’s up until my budding illness had sidelined me, and I suspected Niall was playing to Gray’s favor too, instead of doing his best to win.
In spite of my lower-than-usual energy, our much-delayed handfasting reception seemed to be a hit. The whole pack was in attendance not because they had to, but because they wanted to have fun for once. Everyone relaxed and played in a space that was safe from the contention of my old coven and away from the prying eyes of the increasingly paranoid humans.
All the power I’d gained by leaving the coven and embracing my Fae half, responsibilities I’d shouldered to keep people safe, had become the spark that turned the city against us. Sure, one on one people still asked for my autograph as the princess of the Seelie court. But Gray’s friend was no longer the mayor, and the new one, a mealy-mouthed little man with even less personality than he had hair, was hell-bent on Currying favor with the witches.
So, we took our party across the bridge to the park and slipped in after hours, with the blessing of the park rangers, most of whom were pack members anyway. Without the need for fire or lights, the humans didn’t even know we were there.
I leaned companionably against Julius, one of only two Leos in our pack and one of our inner circle, and we watched as his fiancé Penelope, the other Leo, stepped up against Grayson. Our significant others shared a long, measuring look, and awaited the signal to throw their stones, which had to weigh a few hundred pounds apiece. No biggie for people who could throw small cars, but still impressive to watch.
“She’s going to kick his ass,” Julius sighed contentedly in my ear. “She’s been looking forward to finally seeing who’s stronger for a long time.”
My best friend had only been a shifter a little longer than I had and was the only other hybrid in the pack. Born a siren, she’d used her ability to charm skips into Custody as one of the best bounty hunters in the country.
Julius had been forced to bite her, causing her change, (and saving her life in the process). She’d already risen in the pack. Getting to challenge the alpha one on one was both proof of the respect she’d earned, and its reward.
Niall called her to her stone, and she hefted it over her shoulder and let it fly with a grunt.
My fingers twitched, itching to raise a breeze to carry it just a few feet farther, but I stifled the urge. Her pride wouldn’t allow me to cheat, even in fun.
The boulder flew through the air and landed with a heavy splash several feet beyond the waning tide in water deep enough to sink it completely. Our team cheered and Julius jumped up and down, shaking me off as he cheered for his wife-to-be.
The rest of us jeered at Gray as he stepped up, emphatically enough that he turned and shot me an irritated look, as if to say “Et tu, Bruté?”
I grinned and reached for my magic, calling a breeze in from the ocean, strong enough to blow Gray’s shoulder-length hair back from his face.
“No cheating, wife,” he called out, and both teams laughed. “If you want to win, you’ll have to stop nursing that old lady beverage and compete.” He laughed, but I felt the underlying worry that he’d been carrying since the attack that had given me my shifter powers. The fear that my magics were incompatible, that he’d put me in the situation that made me sick and I’d never be well again.
As if in answer, a fresh wave of nausea nearly bowled me over, but I stood tall and pasted a grin to my face. “I was just giving you a chance to catch up a little, husband. It wouldn’t do to have the alpha lose by too many points, after all.” I let the wind drop with a shrug.
And if my voice was a little raspy from stifling the urge to vomit iced tea on the grass? We all could ignore it. We needed to. There hadn’t been two minutes to breathe for as long as I could remember. From the night Parker chased me through the dark streets of the Tenderloin, to our hurried handfasting as the enemy literally beat down the door to stop us, there was always another battle to fight.
But not tonight. Gray picked up the boulder at his feet and threw it, sending it in a graceful arc that made it look like he was just tossing a pebble into the water. It landed exactly where Pen’s had, so that the top peeked out from the gently lapping water, sitting atop the other.
“Cheeky.” Pen socked gray in the shoulder. “All right, you win this one. Just wait until next time, Alpha.”
The pack held their collective breath for a moment, then erupted in laughter and cheers. Their reticence was understandable. Gray was unlike any other alpha they’d ever seen, like Arthur of the round table, he walked among his people, instead of lording over them. It made him a better leader, and a better mate. But I wasn’t about to tell him that until after I’d edged him back out of the lead.
“Okay, folks, we’re down to the race. For those who have had a few and forgotten the rules,” I stared at Noah, who was unbuttoning his shirt, until he stopped and blinked guiltily back at me, “No shifting. You run on four legs…you’re disqualified.”
In truth, not changing was the biggest challenge of the night for more than one reason. First, it feels fucking amazing to change. Second, the scent of rabbit was going to drive the inner animals insane. That’s why I had Niall going out to create the ‘flags’, I knew he was powerful enough to ignore the scent markers as he rubbed them on the trees that marked the route.
Third…No one runs as fast on two legs as they could on four. Our teams were neck and neck, and the winner of the race got to leave without helping with cleanup. Thinking of the last, I added a rule to the race.
“Shifting counts as automatic cleanup duty. Win the race, then shift and we’ll run together.”
Julius stood at the start with me, the weakest and the fastest Cut from the race to even it out. (I was the weak one, as my finger slip had reminded me and those around me a few minutes before). Julius was a former Olympian long-distance runner and not allowed to embarrass his alpha.
It was okay, we’d all eaten his dust at some point, and his lion was no match for Gray’s lithe panther. When our real run began, Gray would leave us all behind.
The moon was still rising, but the ocean behind the waiting runners went dark as they lined up at the makeshift starting stripe that we’d drawn with pink line chalk.
Julius raised his hand to the ready, and the racers crouched in starting positions.
“Gray?” My voice was low, trying to keep the sense of dread that poured over me from spilling out my throat. “Uh, Grayson?” I repeated myself louder, my eyes on the black ink that was the glassy water behind him.
Almost in unison, the pack turned in the direction I was staring and the dread that crept up my spine assailed my nostrils with the pungent scent of fear. I’d felt terror before, even scented the acrid sweat of a person who was truly, deeply petrified. But until I met the Ufasach Bas, the lethally strong hunters of the Unseelie court, I’d never known fear had a smell.
The hunters exuded a low-level dread wherever they went, causing their would-be victims to second guess themselves, or become paranoid. When they wanted to really make an entrance, they could raise that to a shriek inside your mind, paralyzing you as they fed off your pain and horror. And that was before you saw what they looked like.
Their skin was a sickly, pale green-grey that brought to mind Hollywood images of the undead. Some of the hunters with Xtol had tentacles that whipped about their legs like cattails. Others seemed almost human, aside for the pallor of their skin and the fangs or tusks that stuck out at angles from their mouths, vicious and gleaming with venom.
They were the nightmare pack, the personal guard of the king of the Dark Court, and they were as hard to kill as they were disturbing to look upon.
I’d taught the pack how to defend their minds against the Ufasach Bas and the fear I sensed from them remained low. It was the niggling feeling that something was wrong, like when you’re watching a horror movie and you know the actors shouldn’t open the door in front of them but they’re going to do it anyway.
I walked through my packmates toward the waiting hunters, touching a few of them as I passed, thinking of cool evenings and moonlight, running with the pack as our heartbeats became one thunderous drumbeat.
Calm spread from those close enough to feel my thoughts to their neighbors, and as I reached the leader of the hunters, there was a wall of calm readiness at my back.
“Greetings, Xtol of the Ufasach Bas. I welcome you to our celebration. You here for some beer and field games, or is this a less friendly visit?” Their hands were empty, so I left my demon blade, Caorach, in her sheath…for the moment.
“Greetings, Morgana nic Emris (daughter of Emris), Princess of the Court of Light. Our king sends his congratulations on your wedded bliss, and his immense thanks.”
That caught me by surprise and I blinked fast as I thought fast, trying to come up with a reason for Tryst to express gratitude. After all, charming as he was, that wasn’t his best thing.
“I am certain I have done nothing to deserve his thanks, but you are welcome to our table, if you tone down the dread a notch or two, for the comfort of the non-Fae sharing it with you.”
“He thanks you for setting in motion the prophecy given him more than an age past. He shall await your vengeance once he has killed your father, Emris Stormkeeper, and rejoined the courts as they should be.”
The hunter spoke in a flat voice, empty of any emotion or inflection. I inhaled sharply but recovered as fast, releasing it in a slow, even breath. “I thank you for the timely warning, as surprising as it is to receive.”
