Through the Veihl

By April Rankin

He was her savior.

Cael Leandros will stop at nothing to keep her alive, even if it meant spending an eternity of pain in Tartarus. Possessed by one of the four Horsemen and host to a Prime power of the gods, he’s known his fair share of torment.

She would be his salvation.

Makeanna Graelyn isn’t sure whether she can trust him or not. He beckons her closer just to push her away. One thing she does know: she would sacrifice anything to to free him: her people, throne, Prime, power, and even her life.

But can she defeat Death itself to free him?

In the midst of preparing for war against the man who wants to enslave Atala, the human realm, and the gods, can Mac find the strength to raise an army, retrieve the golden apples for Hades, and free Cael from his demon?

Will they fall prey to their own desires and find strength in one another, or will they let the world burn?

• Language: English
• Publisher: April Rankin
• Release date: Dec 9, 2013
• ISBN: 9781310131868

April Rankin

April was born and raised in a small town in Southern Mississippi, and is a wife, mother, instructional designer, and daydreamer. She writes short erotica, contemporary romance, and paranormal romance. When she's not at her computer, April enjoys reading, botany, messy science experiments, and lengthy bubble baths. Feel free to find her on Facebook!

Book preview

Warriors of the Veihl

April Rankin

Through the Veihl

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2013 by April Rankin

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual locales, events, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be resold or given away to others. If you would like to share this book, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever, with the exception of quotes used for reviews. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Through the Veihl ebook edition December 2013

Cover Illustration Design Copyright© April Rankin

Model Copyright© Andrey Zametalov

Fire Copyright © rastudio, sailorr

Available in print at most online retailers.

For those of you that still believe in the power of love.

For those of you who use your imagination as an escape from reality.

For those of you who fight for your freedom and stand up for what you believe in.

And for D, my heart and soul.

Other books by April Rankin

The Undercover Series:

Undercover Attraction

Undercover Desire

Warriors of the Veihl:

Into the Veihl

Through the Veihl

Short Stories:

The Fantasy Box

The Fantasy Box 2

Montana Heat

Table of Contents

Front Matter

Intro

Prologue

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

Epilogue

Author’s Note

Through the Veihl

Intro

We are the children of gods, the powers that once created your world. We were the void, the absence, the very essence of everything and nothing. We were darkness and light and creator and destroyer.

From our powers sprang forth the universe, the stars and moon and sun you look to in wonder. We simply willed your world into existence and it obeyed. We birthed gods and goddesses in our father's image, complete with minuscule amounts of his innumerable powers. We breathed life into the creatures and fickle, broken beings to populate earth, and you were born.

We are not gods. Once, we were a part of the First, an incremental amount of his massive power that remained after he had completed his world-making. He had sent us forth with the intent to spin his web of the universe, and we did so. We were pure power back then. Infinitesimal. We were the strands that tied together to create the fabric of existence. I cannot begin to explain the vastness that we were, in a time before life even began.

Eventually, as all things do, we began to change. No longer were we ethereal otherworldly bodies of power. We evolved, split into matching pairs, grew into creatures of our own powers and bodies and immortality. We are the creatures that exist in myth and legend, but we are not fictitious. After our existence became known, we were hunted by both humans and gods alike. They hoped to contain our essence, obtain and harness our massive powers.

What they did not know is that we choose to whom it is bestowed, that our powers must be given and not taken. Before your fickle bodies are even created, before your naïve, innocent minds are even formed of thought, we have chosen who will receive our presence. We existed before your birth, and will go on long after your death.

Some of us choose to roam the world in our original, first forms, worshipped and feared as the creatures we are.

Not I. I am a Prime of the First. I chose my host before her birth, was blessed for my choice by my creator, my father. I knew everything about her before her conception. Her future, the trials she would face, the path her entire life would take. And I've lain dormant within her for years, patiently awaiting the day she would need me. That day has come. I chose wisely. The pain and conflict I sensed within her before her birth called to me, beckoned to me like the call of my mate. Together, we can either save or destroy the world.

My mate disappeared millennia ago, after our Father brought to him a message. My heart ached for eons, but I could still feel him out there, part of me, doing what he must. And that was okay. Just knowing he was alive settled my ache.

Not long ago, I felt the brush of my mate again for the first time in over a hundred thousand years. He is close. He is my other half. Together we are invincible. Apart we can be destroyed.

When our powers divided into two perfect halves, nothing in this world could contain the emotion that was automatically between us. Human words cannot describe the feeling.

From powers with intent and purpose to becoming two different beings entirely meant for one another felt like thunder and lightning flowing in our veins. It was the closest we could get to human emotion without a human host. You call it love. I call it a perfect joining of two pieces cut from the same cloth.

I fear that soon my power will be felt by all other Primes as I am reunited back with my maker. I fear that I will be unable to break my keeper from the hypnotic spell Elethan has woven around her. He has her transfixed on false memories, the belief that he is her soul mate. Because she has always wanted to feel as if she had a place that she belonged, she accepted his imaginary past and false love so easily.

He touches her with hurtful fingers but makes her believe they are caresses. He kisses her with bloodstained lips and she thinks he is the king of her soul. Hatred-bred blows of punishment turns into the sweetest thoughtfulness for her safety. She stares into gold-rimmed mercury eyes on a beautiful, masculine face while all I see is crimson irises and the tainted flesh of a madman.

She thinks he has her heart, but he has only trapped her mind, imprisoned her into a false sense of security and an illusion of love and kindness. He tells her that I am a demon who has staked myself to her soul and only he can save her. He's right. He can save her from me, by stealing every ounce of power and life in me, but it will kill us both in the process.

Each time he presses his foul fingers to her chest, he draws from me, weakening me until I can't fight to reach her any longer. I feel her, still floating along in the Veihl, existing in a dream that he has created to keep her trapped. I fear that each time he touches her body, I become fainter. I fear that each time he speaks to her in that lisping voice and she hears only words of love and commitment, he builds yet another bar around her, caging her in tighter and tighter. I fear she will never be free of his taint, of his control over her.

I fear that no one can save us now.

Part One

‘Who are you,’ I ask the woman in the mirror.

And she replies, ‘Who are you?’

Prologue

Mac

Someday I'll look back and wonder where I went wrong. I will wonder if I could have done anything differently to save my parents so long ago. I will consider my choices and wonder if I could have taken a different path and everything turn out just fine. Maybe I wouldn't have discovered I am the rightful Arca of Atala. Maybe I would have just kept on keeping on as I had in Vegas. Perhaps I would have found an honest, hardworking man to marry and had four beautiful children.

Yeah right! And maybe not knowing that a country was dying without me would make it all okay somehow.

But it's not okay. The country I was born to rule has been dying. Not to mention, the choices I've made have embedded me so deeply within this new realm that I can see no way out.

I decided to stay of my own free will. I chose to become the true Arca in order to ensure my people—the people my parents ruled for years—flourished.

I couldn’t say that I was entirely happy doing it. Far from it, actually. Mostly, I’ve just been pissed off and stressed.

I’ve had a taste of the man that tempts me beyond lust. He is danger, darkness, dominance, desire, all rolled into one package of mouth-watering male power that moves with a grace that screams he is the king of this jungle.

Cael. He pushes me away even as he beckons me closer.

He believed in me when no other had, when the entire country believed me dead and lost to them.

And now I really am.

My memories are vague now. There was a fight and I was taken to the fortress of Elethan, a man so sinister that I’m not sure I could ever break free of the hold he has over me. The plan was simple: get in, get the apple, get out. But it hadn’t gone as planned.

I was beaten, almost raped before Elethan’s son Galen saved me. He tried to help me escape, but I refused, unwilling to leave without that which I had come for.

The damn apple.

Months ago, I made a bargain with Hades. He aided me in saving Alex, my best friend’s lover and my friend, after Alex died protecting us. I had healed the man, but his soul had already slipped away, disappearing into the Veihl that serves as a wall between the living and dead, a wall that also serves to shield the lands of Atala—or Atlantis—from the mortal realm.

In return, I have to find and retrieve three of the Golden Apples of Hera and bring them to Hades. I have already given him one.

Now I am in search of the second.

This was supposed to be safe. We had already arranged for me to be conveniently kidnapped by Elethan’s soldiers and I should have easily been able to find the apple he possessed and escaped his formidable fortress by now. Instead, it has been one trial after another.

Elethan isn’t only a dangerous man; he also has a Prime within him, one that is evil, corrupting his mind.

I thought I had won the apple from him in a fight to the death against one of his best soldiers. I followed him to his throne room to obtain my prize before leaving, as he had promised. Instead, Elethan cast some sort of spell, making me believe his every word.

The light glowing from the apple flashed in front of my eyes as he had spun it in the air. And then…

I was quickly swallowed by darkness and decay and death, unable to even understand who I was any longer. I was remade, molded into what he wanted me to be, his faithful servant, devoted mate. Shadows moved within me, at first it was a tiny droplet in the still waters of my mind then spreading like a dye, staining the entire pool an inky gray.

Beneath that motionless ocean, I am now trapped, chained by fear and weakness and magic much more powerful than anything I've felt before. Slowly, I am drowning in a pit of my own making, my throat swallowing grief and guilt and helplessness until it fills my chest and I am unable to breathe.

My Prime is still beating within me yet Elethan has me convinced she is evil. She struggles and I fear that it will make me do terrible things if Elethan doesn’t draw her power from me. As I’ve said, he has me believing that I need him, that he is the only one who can draw the darkness from my soul.

In my dreams, gray mist swirls around me, forming pictures and memories made of fog. Asleep, I've wandered through the eerie gray place for what seems like an eternity, haunted by people and decisions that plague me even though they make no sense to the woman Elethan has made me.

Each time I try to decipher the dreams, or speak to Elethan about it, he spins his apple and makes me forget. I should have just stabbed him through his disgusting, foul, black heart when I had the chance.

In my dreams, I vomit into the mist each time he touches me. There, he is disgusting, repulsive, and cruel. Awake, I find him loving and charming and so protective.

He beats me, speaking softly so that I think I deserve it. He's raped me so many times I can't begin to count them. He steals my Prime’s power, leaving me weak and unquestioning his loyalty and kindness.

Awake, I trust him with everything I am. Asleep, I've tried screaming, tried to run as far and as fast as I can through the Veihl's fog, only to get nowhere. There, I'm no fool. I know that each day that goes by, I am fading faster and faster. It won't be long before there is nothing left of me or my Prime.

But when morning dawns, he again brainwashes me with the apple and I forget all of my doubts.

He wants my Prime. He wants to steal my powers. He wants to rule the world and make mortals and immortals alike his slaves. He wants to become a god. Somehow, I have to stop him before the world is destroyed at his feet.

But for now I am his. Mind, body, heart, and soul.

Chapter 1

Cael

I lost my sanity weeks ago, when he took her from me. I am no longer Cael Leandros. I am beast, fire, hatred. Vengeance. Death.

Despite claims that others may have on her, I know who she truly belongs to. She is mine! There is nothing I will not do to get her back. I've allowed my beast free reign for the last week, his fury at his inability to reach his mate my own. I stare below as yet again my soldiers are slaughtered by nothing more than shadows. Doesn't fucking matter. I will send every man, woman, and child to their deaths to free her.

I fly above the battlements of the Legion fortress, seeking any way in, but have found no weakness in the shield that has been erected around the walls. I sense her magic in the shield, am confused why she would be aiding her enemy, yet there are no answers peering from the faint haze that separates me from her.

I shouldn't have let her go. It had taken every ounce of will I had to fight my instinct and watch them steal her from my side, my protection. For the first week, I told myself it had to be done, that she would find the fucking apple for Hades and get out of the clutches of the Legion bastard so easily.

Then, during the second week, I was furious with myself and the fucking Gaul for thinking up the plan. I've beaten him bloody, taken my licks in return, but she's still in there.

It's driving me mad wondering what that bastard is doing to her. Was her cooperation so easily waved? Could her allegiance so easily be bought? Just like a fucking woman. Had Elethan been the highest bidder, promising her the most glorious riches, majesty, and worship?

These thoughts are driving me mad. To make matters worse, Balan—a fucking demon living within me—sits in his cage, laughing at me, mocking my inability to save her while my beast roars in rage and beats against the fucking wards that create the shield keeping me from razing this fortress to the ground. Both of our bodies are bruised and bloody from the useless effort, but I refuse to give up.

The cries of my men below fall on deaf ears. I will send everyone to their deaths to save her.

I hear the beat of wings beside me and turn to see who dares to break rank. I spot the Goyle, Keirnan, one of Makeanna’s favorites. His skin is mottled like stone, evidence of his past curse. Why the hell does she like the Goyles? They are irritating and headstrong, only taking my orders now because we are all working towards a common goal: saving her.

What the fuck do you want? I roar, the sound more animal than man, layered with two voices: mine and my beast’s. It gives me a bit of satisfaction to watch his eyes narrow in irritation.

We think we may have a way to get past the shadows, but you won’t like it. He looks around him, seeing the bodies lying in crimson puddles below us then the fiery blood flowing from several broken areas of my wings. We can't keep doing this, he says. Your men are being slaughtered, and we have lost several Goyles to the dragons.

I look at his stone-like face. He isn't loyal to me, but he is to the Arca and I know he is as desperate to free her as I. I snarl. Any moment we spend sitting around a fire talking is another moment Elethan may be hurting her. Or touching her. Or doing any number of unspeakable things that makes my rage rise in rapid succession.

You must see reason, Keirnan says. What will she have left of her people if you allow them all to die?

My eyes drift down. Hundreds of bodies litter the ground, shadows feasting on parts of Atalan warriors that are unidentifiable.

Fall back! I order, knowing that precious few will make it out of the deadened forest below. The only reason I've made it this far is because in this form, I can fly above those carnivorous shadows.

With one last slam of my body against the wall, I turn and follow Keirnan to the outskirts of the forest. We've set up a small camp just beyond the cursed grounds of the Legion. I land, automatically shifting back to a man, but allowing my beast to stay close to the surface, ready to change back and attack at any moment. I know he can be seen in my eyes, and I wouldn't be surprised if my demon can as well, my control thin as it is right now.

The sun is beginning to dip below the horizon, the skeletal trees with bark the color of soot and blood cast long shadows across the rocky ground. It takes longer for the remainder of my men to appear, haggard and exhausted from dodging the eerie creatures in that cemetery of a forest. A blood forest is what it is, shadows living in trees to attack anything that moves.

Although I want to jump straight to the point, I hold myself back long enough for them to drink and begin to bandage the wounds of several injured. I sent more than one hundred men in a few hours ago. Less than thirty stand before me now. And none had ventured more than fifty yards into the tree line.

Keirnan stands and turns to me. We think that there is another way to get past the forest. I for one believe it might work.

I look to Eiran, another of Makeanna's trusted Goyles. I can barely see his eyes from the blood coating his face and neck. His bare arms and torso are a mass of scratches and bruises. No doubt from the claws of the shadowy creatures that have taking down my army with ease. They are more than just darkened light, they are forms that can't be harmed by our weapons. They have no faces, no real bodies, but they attack with claws and teeth and then eat the remains.

Eiran nods, agreeing with Keirnan. "The upyri. They've long been known to control the shadows, or at the least, are able to walk among them without being harmed."

You want me to go to them and ask for their fucking help? I ask, incredulous. The upyri and I hold no love for one another.

No. We want you to bargain with them or demand their aid in freeing the Arca. She is their Queen as well, Keirnan says.

I think on it. There is a possibility that they would turn their backs on her as they did me years ago. It has been long known that the upyri prefer their own company rather than the Atalan courts. And if they refuse?

Eiran stands. They won't. Not if you offer something they want or need.

And what would that be? I ask. There was little the vampires needed they couldn't get themselves. They've been on their own for ages, living alongside humans beyond the Veihl. Neither of the men answers me. "So I am to go to the upyri and ask for their aid in return for something I may or may not be able to give them?"

They both nod.

I have no idea what I would be offering, but whatever they want, I will gladly part with it if they can free her. And if they refuse? I ask again.

They won't, Keirnan responds again.

What makes you so certain? I snarl, already seeing the effort as a waste of time. We are sitting here talking of a plan when I should be tearing down bricks and bursting heads between my claws to get to my mate. No. She’s no longer my mate, I remind myself. The Gaul now has a claim since he saved her life by forfeiting half of his own just a few short weeks ago.

That day will be forever seared in my mind. Elethan had sent an archer the day of her coronation. I’d watched an arrow pierce her heart, felt her life slipping away. I had not the power to heal her, but Roahn had. His old druidic ways and words of the ritual had severed her ties to me, instead binding her to him as he gave her half of his life essence. And I’d agreed to it, agreed to relinquish any claims I had to her in order to see her alive.

Because I am going with you, Eiran says, bringing me back to the presence. Bayne owes me, and he will not turn me away.

I suppose it can't hurt to try. After all, I can't very well send every one of my people to slaughter, because as Keirnan said, the Arca would have no one to rule once she is free. My Prime doesn't like the idea of leaving her. He wants to stay and fight, throw himself against the wards in the hope that they'll break eventually, but I know they won't. Not any time soon. Not as fortified as they are with whatever dark powers Elethan has employed. And every second she is in that fortress is another second ticking off of her life.

We leave now, I say.

Eiran stands to join me and I create a gate a few paces away. The air shimmers and splits before us, opening a portal directly to the upyri stronghold.

We step into the portal together and find ourselves at the mouth of a cave. Snow covers the ground, making our feet sink with each step. We stand at the foot of a mountain, trees growing all the way to the very side of the cliffs, making any navigation by foot from above very perilous.

At the cave mouth, I can smell the upyri. Vampires. They once ruled the Shadowlands ages ago. Eventually, there was a war between them and the fae. I'm not sure what it was about, and don't really fucking care. All I know is that the sidhe fae won, somehow ferreting the upyri's weakness to send them away.

I've met Bayne twice before, once when I was a child and again as a young Archon when I tried to rally troops to go to war against the Legion. He is far older than I can fathom, but he rules over his horde with an iron fist. I can respect that.

Eiran and I step through the feeble ward that is designed to both keep humans out and warn the vampires about any intruders. The smell of moisture and earth is strong, not the dank decay that I was expecting.

Within moments, several upyri guards intercept us.

Why do you come here? one asks, his hand on a gun strapped to his side.

I don't tell him that the weapon would only piss me off.

We must speak to Bayne, Eiran answers.

The guard looks at both of us intently, mockingly. And what business would your kind have with Bayne?

My beast is in physical agony being so far from his mate when she needs him. My temper is short and I have no patience for this kind of fucking off. My arm shoots out and I clutch the man around his throat, squeezing just enough to cut his oxygen off. None of your fucking business. Where is Bayne? Several of their human weapons turn on me, but I don't care. She needs me. They’re wasting time. Enough said.

I am here, says a man behind the guards. He walks closer until I can see him clearly. Eiran, Archon, Bayne says, nodding to each of us in turn.

I release the guard and face Bayne. He is my size, probably slightly bigger, with powerful arms and eyes the color of rich whiskey. He is wearing human clothes, dressed fashionably in a tailored suit with a black undershirt and black tie. Black, from head to toe, just like his heart.

Come, we may speak privately in my study.

Bayne leads us through a labyrinth of tunnels that have been carved to resemble corridors. Notches in the walls hold sconces that light the darkened underground. Rooms have been carved from the earth, and the layout resembles an underground palace, complete with columns and vaulted ceilings. The upyri apparently still live lavishly, just not in the Shadowlands any longer.

I can smell a female nearby, not human, not Atalan. Her scent is like nothing I've ever encountered, and my beast recognizes her somehow, calls her sister. Possibly another Prime? Not my problem.

We pass through a large door that has been mounted to a stone archway, into a room that resembles my own study. A large desk sits to one side, with bookcases lining the walls, filled with row upon row of books of all sizes and topics.

Bayne gestures for us to sit as he takes his seat behind the desk. No doubt to remind us who's lair we are in. Eiran, it has been too long. I am glad to see you well, and unturned.

I almost had, but the new Arca saved us. Even Keirnan walks again, all of us do, Eiran says.

Bayne looks a bit impressed.

I fucking hate chit-chat. Wasting time.

And you, Archon. I haven't seen you since you were a cocky boy, rushing off into a war.

I snarl. I haven't forgotten. The last time we spoke, he had refused to ally with us in a war we had no hope of winning. Guess what, asshole? I won.

He smiles. I understand how you could be irate about that. I regret not joining you. War would have been a great distraction for me at the time.

We have come to ask a favor of you, Bayne, Eiran says.

The vampire tilts his head in interest.

Tic-fucking-tock. I am sick of wasting time. The Legion has captured the new Arca, and they have shadows defending their walls and a ward I can't break through. We need your help getting in, I explain.

His eyes narrow. Again you are at my door asking for us to join you in war, Archon.

I'm not fucking asking, I say, standing. I refuse to ask for something he owes his Arca anyway.

"How is this related to the upyri? What can we hope to gain by doing this?" Bayne asks.

She's your fucking Queen! I yell, slamming my palms against the desk.

He laughs. That's your first mistake, Archon: believing we have allegiance to anyone of the Veihl any longer. Your second mistake was demanding instead of asking. And your third is thinking that you have anything we may want for doing so.

My fist shoots across the desk to grab him, but Eiran stops me. My beast is roaring in fury inside me, my demon laughing at my misery. I take a deep breath to calm, glaring at the vampire while Eiran pushes me back.

"Bayne, I'm asking, Eiran says. She's his mate, she has broken our curse, saved the Cursed One from the Shroud, and is a Prime. Elethan has imprisoned her, and we are unable to defeat his horde of shadows and dragons. You know I wouldn't have come to you if it wasn't important."

Bayne considers his words, looking back and forth from me to Eiran. The Archon is a Prime as well.

He says it as a fact. I don't deny it. Few people know what I hold inside of me, but right now, I don't give a fuck if all of my secrets were laid bare for the world. I just want Mac out of there.

And you have a Chosen Daughter of the First in your chambers, Eiran says.

I look at him in surprise. Is that who I smelled before? The female? She's the daughter of the primordial gods? I've heard only stories of the Chosen ones. They are said to be emotionless creatures the gods sent to earth to protect mankind. They are the protectors created as the first people to populate the planet, bestowed with powers by the gods themselves in order to keep their weaker human children safe from those who wish to wipe out all existence. Their parents were all of the primordial gods, not just two. I had thought them just myths.

She is none of your concern, Bayne says.

You're looking for your mate, Eiran counters.

I