Published by EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ® at Smashwords

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2023 Faedra Rose

  ISBN: 978-0-3695-0762-4

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: Lisa Petrocelli

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  This series is dedicated to my soul mate, the Dark to my Light.

  You are my everything—my always and forever.

  I love you.

  ENTANGLED SOULS

  Soul Mates, 1

  Faedra Rose

  Copyright © 2023

  Chapter One

  Astra

  I am unlike the White Queens that have come before me—there’s something wrong with me. Born to reign over the Northern Continent from the Crystal Throne, I’m supposed to be the Bastion of Light, Scion of Purity, and the Heart of Goodness… I was born to be the moral compass for my people, but I fear that I’m not. I fear that I can’t be, no matter how hard I try, because deep down inside me exists a truth that I’m afraid to admit.

  I fear that even giving it credence will only cause it to take root, and grow like a weed—wild, rampant, and unchecked—to choke the sacred garden of my soul and poison my heart. But the seed is already there. I feel it like a fleck of Darkness, just waiting patiently for its time to bloom and reveal me for the traitor I am. And more than that … I’m afraid that I want to find out, and be found out.

  Today is the Day of Love, a day where we all celebrate the driving force that keeps us together, like a celestial glue that anchors our hearts to one another, as friends, family, and lovers. From the lowliest servant to the crown that sits atop my head, we all take this day to thank the Goddess for this gift. Love is what keeps us going. It’s what keeps us fighting each and every day. It’s what separates us from the Southern Continent and its bleak and Eternal Darkness.

  The River of Souls divides us physically, acting as a barrier. When we die our souls will join the river, and wrest against the poisoned souls from the South for all eternity to keep the North safe, prosperous, and peaceful. Our deaths, therefore, are as meaningful as our lives. For in death, we protect all that we love. We keep the sacred balance so that all those who come after us may enjoy what we have.

  On the Day of Love the people of the North bring tributes to the North bank, to honor all those who have passed, and to thank them for their undying service to those of us who live on. Some travel for weeks from all corners of the North to be here on this day. And I too must participate in the observance.

  Each year a royal procession leaves the White Castle and the White Queen has the sacred duty of commencing observance. I will lead my people in song and prayer, so that the souls who ensure our safety know they are not forgotten, nor unappreciated.

  The Day of Love also serves as a reminder to us all, that the Goddess sacrificed a part of her Light the day the barrier was created. That Light now lives on in me. I am the living embodiment of the Goddess here on the Continent. Within me resides the truth of her existence, and the people’s final hope. She is our mercy against the Dark.

  If there ever comes a day the River of Souls should break, and the souls of Darkness spill into the North like a plague, only the White Queen’s sacrifice can cleanse the land and save her people. It’s why the White Queens are always armed. Despite our purity and peaceful ways, it is our duty to protect. And like a key in a lock, only by the queen’s own hand can the sacrifice be made. My life for the many—that is the burden I carry. And some days it feels heavier than others. Today is one of those days. Today, I feel its crushing weight, and yearn to be free of it.

  It’s selfish and immature, and beyond preposterous, but I feel it all the same. I may wear a crown, I may have been raised and educated a princess, and crowned a queen, but I’m still just one soul—and a lonely soul at that. I have come of age, and soon I must take a husband so that I can ensure the Passing of the Light. But my heart stubbornly shirks the responsibility thrust upon it. It wants to be wild and free, like a bird on the wing. It wants to fly and explore, and experience more than what duty has so rigidly planned for it.

  They say duty is the death of love, and that love is the death of duty. But I dance the fine line in-between these two truths. I must follow duty for love—for the love of my people. The price of this duty is the death of love. My love, or at least any opportunity for it. I will marry, carry a child, and pass on the Light as is my sworn duty. And in that commitment I will have a tame love, safety, and my fair share of contentment … but what my heart truly desires is unthinkable. It craves adventure, danger, and an epic love that sweeps me off my feet.

  I want to feel just once like nothing in the world matters but a single breathless moment. I want to feel such passion that for just a heartbeat in time I’d be willing to see the Continent burn … just to stay right there. To make that perfect, ravenous, and all-consuming fire last a little longer—even if it’s wrong in every sense of the word—before it must be quenched and dashed. Just like my dreams.

  Is that so wrong? I wonder, as my maids dress me in the last of my crystalline regalia. Fire can’t always be contained. Sometimes it longs to be wild and swallows everything in its path. And you can’t blame the fire, for that is its very nature—and new life springs forth from the destruction it wreaks. So, is it truly wrong for my heart to want for more? To lust after something so intangible as a passion the likes of which no White Queen has ever felt?

  With a sigh, I adjust my crown. Time to go. Starting the long descent from my tower chambers, I can’t help but be acutely aware of the way my heart skips and flutters with a strange, and new nervous energy.

  Chapter Two

  Nox

  I am old. Almost as old as the Continent itself. Breathed into life by the God and Goddess when the world was still young, before the River of Souls was even a thought. I am their son, the First Man, gifted with immortality—for my mother could not bear the thought of my demise. And it was this fear, this kindness, this expression of love that would lead to the Sundering of the Continent and to all that has unfolded since.

  I am my father’s son, more than I am my mother’s. For my father is the Eternal Darkness, and my mother, the Eternal Light. And I am a creature of Darkness through and through. Though, as my mother’s son, I can’t deny the glimmer of Light that dwells at the heart of me—hiding, waiting patiently for its time to shine, in spite of the oppressive impossibility of my gloom.

  I am not my parents’ only child. After me, there came others. Many others. Though, after seeing the overwhelming Darkness in my heart, my mother chose not to gift these children with immortality. This did not bother me at first, rather, I felt glad to be powerful and indestructible above all others. But then there came a day when that traitorous glimmer of Light inside of me sparked … and I fell in love with a mortal, a woman styled a queen by my mother. Her name was Lumen.

  She was everything I was not. Pure and filled with my mother’s Eternal Light. She was all that was good, yet something inside of her yearned to be with me. She had been cursed with a flicker of my father’s Eternal Darkness, and it was this part of her that called out to me. As later I would learn that my glimmer of our mother’s Eternal Light called to her, it seemed like we were but two halves of a whole. So, we bound ourselves, one to the other. I thought our union would last forever, forgetting the crucial detail of my beautiful bride’s fragile mortality.

  When at last Lumen’s natural time came, and her Light returned to whence it had come, I could not bear the grief. Consumed by an unquenchable maelstrom of anguish, rage, and despair, the absence of her Light was beyond my ability to comprehend or accept. The weight of it crushed me until I felt I could not breathe, let alone endure another day without her by my side.

  Stricken with this madness, I unleashed the horrors of my great Darkness against the North. If I couldn’t have her Light, it seemed only just that no one could. I wanted to hurt my mother. I wanted to punish her, by hurting her children. If only she had gifted my perfect bride with the same immortal life span as me. And when I learned that my mother had dared to re-gift her Eternal Light to a new queen? I was overcome. I saw red like a haze across my heart, destroying all ability to reason or be held back by something as trivial as morality.

  And so, I spilled blood. For leagues upon leagues, blood watered the soil. My Darkness spilled across the Continent until it reached the White Castle itself. Affronted by the new vessel of the Light, I moved to sunder it from the world—but she drew her blade faster. Driving a crystal dagger into her own heart with an impossible and unflinching conviction, a wave of Light burst forth from her, driving me and my Darkness from the North in a violent, roiling vortex. She cleansed the land of my lurid taint with her very life. The expression on the young queen’s face as she made her selfless sacrifice is something that will haunt me for the rest of my immortal days.

  In retaliation, and to protect the North from my rage, my mother cleft the Continent clean in two, filling it with the souls of all those who had perished on both sides—creating the River of Sou ls—an impassable barrier that divided the Dark and the Light. A barrier created with one purpose—to protect the Light from me.

  It’s likely my mother will never forgive me for what I did all those years ago. And it’s even more likely that she’ll never forgive me for what I’m about to do now. Ever since the current queen came of age, I’ve felt the haunting flicker of her Darkness calling to me from across the Continent like a siren song, growing stronger and stronger with each passing day. It prickles my skin, and sends shivers dancing down my spine. Its intangible touch whispers over the vast distance between us to taunt me, beckoning to me, yearning for me.

  I can’t know if she feels it or recognizes it for what it is, but for me it feels just like it did the first time, seven thousand years ago, when I met my Lumen, the original White Queen. It both sickens and arouses me. Surely the God and Goddess must know? If this woman’s soul is destined to be mine, I will find a way to cross the River of Souls, and I will craft a means by which to share my own immortality with her. Because I won’t be left alone. Not again. I will defy the very order of nature to claim my Lady of Light.

  Too long have I gone without the soft kiss of the Light against my skin. To be separated from its warmth for time beyond mortal memory is an exquisite agony I have learned to assimilate into my very being. But I need to be buried in her. I know it as truly as I need air. I crave to be buried in her so deep that I can touch that precious Darkness, and show her how it feels to be consumed by it mind, body, and soul.

  If she is my soul mate then she will yearn to touch my glimmer of forsaken Light just as desperately. And together, we’ll rule the Continent. We’ll destroy that which divides us, and the world will be as it should have always been—both Dark and Light. For one cannot exist without the other. Balance is required. I understand that now. Something which apparently even my godly parents in all their omniscient magnanimity failed to realize.

  Chapter Three

  Astra

  I marvel at the sheer number of people who have gathered, having traveled from far and wide, to observe the Day of Love as I step from my horse-drawn carriage. I couldn’t possibly guess at their numbers. Together, they form a riotous sea of color. Men, women, and children carry bouquets of flowers, streaming banners that whip in the breeze, and various precious items of remembrance—treasured keepsakes with which to honor the valiant dead.

  My most trusted friend and handmaiden passes me my crystal scepter, and then flanked by my royal guards, I make my way to the Sundered Shore. My heart races, thumping in my chest like a smith’s hammer against an anvil with each step closer to the River of Souls. But it isn’t the barrier that has my insides squirming. It’s the proximity of the South. The other half of the Continent beyond, where it is said the Dark Lord still endures. Timeless and powerful, he is the oldest of us all—and immortal. He was the First Born of the God and Goddess.

  As I reach the river, I can hear my pulse thundering in my ears. Beyond the river the dark shore vanishes, swallowed whole by a roiling, ever-present black mist. Where is he now? I wonder. Deep in the South, in his ancient keep, or just beyond the shadows, watching and waiting… I swallow the lump in my throat, and by sheer force of will turn my back on the South to face my expectant people.

  “Citizens of the North, I welcome you to our Day of Love celebration,” I say aloud, amplifying my voice with my Light. “Today we remember and revere all those we have lost. Even in their death they continue to serve the Light, protecting the North from the Darkness. Today, we also offer our love and devotion to the Goddess, for it was she who sundered the Continent, creating the River of Souls. And it is my great honor to carry her Light for us all, so that we may continue to live in peace, safety, and prosperity.”

  My gathered subjects applaud as one, their voices rising in joyous and reverent agreement. I lead them in songs of thanks and remembrance, and it fills my heart with earnest peace to hear their thousands of voices—young and old—in harmony, united on this sacred day. By late afternoon, as I alone recite the Prayer of Eternity, the last of the travelers bring forth their tokens to place by the shore.

  I’d forgotten just how draining so much direct personal interaction could be. Though I rule from the White Castle and watch over the North from my Crystal Tower, I am a queen of the people, first and foremost. I remain on my feet, a gracious smile upon my face, right up until the last soul comes to offer their thanks and platitudes.

  A little girl in a well-worn dress with bright eyes and rich brown hair offers me a posey of wildflowers before hugging my legs tightly. “Thank you for protecting us, Queen Astra,” she says.

  I bob down and stroke her curling locks affectionately. “It’s my honor, child.” Her parents look on, bowing and curtseying in their threadbare clothing when I meet their gaze. With a wink and a grin, I pluck one of the many jeweled pins from my hair and secret it into her small hand. “Give this to your parents,” I say. “And safe journey home, little one.”

  The girl’s eyes widen and she gasps. “Thank you, Your Majesty!” Turning tail, the child—who could be no more than four or five years of age—runs to her parents, revealing her prize. Their mouths fall open as one, and they move to approach me.

  I quickly wave them off. “A gift,” I say, halting them in their tracks. “Be well, and may Love and Light follow you always.”

  “Thank you, my queen,” they say, echoing one another as joy and disbelief wars for pride of place on their shocked faces. “Blessed Day of Love to you!” are their parting words, and together the little family takes their leave.

  “Astra.”

  “Are you ready to leave now, Your Grace?” asks my handmaid, startling me.

  “Did you hear that?” I ask, glancing around for the source of the dark and seductive voice on the wind.

  “Hear what, Your Grace?”

  “Stay a while, White Queen. Hear me,” the bodiless voice implores.

  My heart races and my gaze tears across the River of Souls to the Darkness beyond. I squint my eyes, and I swear I can almost make out a fleeting shape, like that of a man. But then it’s gone, and I’m not certain whether it was a trick of the mist, my tired eyes, or something far more sinister.

  “Astra…”

  I swallow against the sudden dryness of my mouth and lick my lips, mind racing as fast as my heart.

  “Your Grace, it’s been a long day. Are you feeling unwell? Do you need to take rest?” asks my handmaiden, breaking into the chaos of my thoughts and desires.

  I clear my throat and raise the back of my hand to my forehead, feigning a wobbly smile. “Actually, I’m feeling a little light-headed, to be honest,” I answer. A white lie. I’m just buying time to think—and to see if the Dark voice will speak again.

  “Forgive me, my queen,” says my handmaid. She gently guides me to an ancient stone bench beneath a weeping white willow. “I should have noticed sooner. Sit and catch your breath a while, and I’ll fetch you some water.”

  I nod vaguely, my gaze fixed across the River of Souls.

  My handmaiden curtseys and disappears on her errand.

  “Who are you?” I ask in my mind, casting my question toward the South. “And how do you know my name?”

  “You know who I am, Lady of Light,” says the voice, languid and self-assured as the afternoon gives way to dusk.

  My breath hitches in my chest, and I freeze like a fawn in the forest. I daren’t move a single muscle, or give any outward indication that I’m doing anything more than simply sitting and resting. I take a deep breath that makes my head spin, and my hand wanders to the crystal dagger hanging from my ornamental belt.

  “You’re him,” I answer, my inner voice scarcely more than a whisper. “Nox, the Dark Lord.”

 

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