Never Let You Fall (The Prophecy of Tyalbrook, book 1)

By Michele G Miller

Step through the portal to another world in this Coming of Age historical fantasy where one girl holds the key to everyone's fate.

Their journey began with a promise...

“I won’t let you fall. You will not die for me. I can’t live with that. I would let them take me before I let them kill you.” He opened his mouth and I held up my hand. “Don’t argue it. There’s no point. I’ve made up my mind.”
His shoulders rose and fell with his deep intake and release of breath, but he didn’t argue.
“If anything happens to you ... if we get separated, if you make yourself a martyr ... anything, Skye. I promise, as long as I am breathing, I will always find you. Always.”
That’s what I was counting on.

AN ORPHAN with no memory of her past and no hope for her future.
A GUARDIAN determined to keep her safe.
A DESTINY neither of them expected.

Never Let You Fall is the first novel in the completed Prophecy of Tyalbrook series. A young adult fantasy romance, fans of historical romance, swords and sorcery, protective heroes, and impulsive heroines will enjoy this 75k-word book that ends in a cliffhanger.

Reading Order:
1) Never Let You Fall
2) Never Let You Go
3) Never Without You

• Language: English
• Publisher: Michele G Miller
• Release date: Oct 5, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301895281

Michele G Miller

Michele writes novels with fairytale love for everyday life. Romance is central to her plots where the genres range from Coming of Age Fantasy and Realistic Fiction to New Adult Romantic Suspense. Among other titles, she is the author of the bestselling From The Wreckage series, a Havenwood Falls author, and co-writes the Paper Planes series with author Mindy Hayes. Mindy and Michele also write clean contemporary titles under the pen Mindy Michele.Represented by Italia Gandolfo with Gandolfo Helen & Fountain Literary Management http://ghliterary.com/

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Skye? Skye? Can you hear me?

I stirred at the distinctly male voice, recoiling as warmth brushed against my cheek. I moaned, and he cursed, but my eyes refused to open.

What are you trying to do to yourself? he asked as I was lifted by a pair of strong arms. Unable to respond, I rested my head on his chest as he carried me away.

Skye? he hissed in my ear. The heady timbre of his voice was gruff and firm, laced with unmistakable fear.

I groaned and rolled to my back. Stop shaking me.

My head felt groggy and disoriented. Unable to tell up from down, my stomach flipped as though I’d been on a boat for weeks. Heat returned to my ice-cold forehead, and this time I pushed into it. The chattering of my teeth filled my ears and made my jaw ache as I snuggled closer, seeking his warmth.

What did you do tonight?

My body reacted instinctively, inching closer toward his voice with each word he spoke. Why did he sound familiar? Curious, I peeled one eye open. The world spun and my stomach heaved. The voice cursed, panic no longer coloring his tone as he turned me to my side and I emptied my stomach of its liquid diet.

Spent, I fell to my back and lay there, the stench of my vomit-covered shirt so revolting it prompted me to undress. In my inebriated state, my arms failed to cooperate with my brain as I groped for the hem of my shirt. Or perhaps it was my brain not functioning properly? Nothing made sense.

Hello? I choked, hoping for assistance from my rescuer. No reply. Confused, I lifted my head and took in my surroundings through tear-blurred, alcohol-induced hazy vision.

C’mon. His voice startled me from behind. Helping me into a sitting position, he struggled with pulling my shirt off. Let’s get you cleaned up so you can sleep this off.

My limbs offered little help. All I succeeded in doing was laxly rocking from one side to the other as warm hands assisted me. Shirt stripped away, he carried me into a bathroom where steam collected from a running shower. His arm beneath my knees slid away as he lowered my feet to the tile floor of the shower. As my feet touched the ground, I pitched forward and felt his arms wrap around my torso, steadying me upright. We inched forward. One step, then another, until hot water streamed down my front. My heavy eyelids closed once again.

XANDER

Sickened by her repeated behavior, I stood in the shower holding her in my arms. Her head hung low as the stream hit her hair and flowed down in a waterfall, rinsing vomit from the long, brown strands. She was completely wasted; her entire body weight rested in my arms. If I let go of her, she’d collapse to the tile floor, her alcohol-influenced muscles no stronger than a rag doll. My teeth clenched. What she did to herself time after time—going to parties, drowning her sorrows—it needed to stop. I watched her from afar for so long, but tonight I had to step in. No more watching her self-destruct. She’s running from something she’ll never outrun, not on her own. She just doesn’t know it yet.

Interfering tonight brought us here, standing in a shower, my arms around her waist. My fingers skimmed the soft skin over the ribs just below her chest as I adjusted my grip. Maintain your composure, Xander. This is torture. The removal of her shirt was necessary since it was covered in vomit and liquor. It wasn’t easy keeping my hands, or my eyes, from roaming her bare skin. The weight of the water pulled at her low-rise jeans and revealed more and more of her trim back, which revealed more and more of my weakness for her. I needed to get away from her, and quickly. The longer I stood with her in my arms, the harder it would be to remain aloof.

No contact. That was the rule as her Guardian. The job was to watch from afar and keep her safe until the time was right for her to learn about us. The consequences I could face for not following the plan rolled through my head as Skye shuddered. Her shoulders shook and I pulled her back against my chest as I deciphered her fractured words.

Are you safe?

The words were broken and repeated over and over. I remained quiet, waiting for more. Nothing came. She repeated herself again and again. She straightened and pushed her hair away from her face as she regained use of her limbs. Remaining unsteady, Skye glanced over her shoulder. Her vulnerable, brown eyes were dilated, but clearer; the hot shower had sobered her.

I supported her weight as she took a deep breath and searched my eyes. Are you safe?

I couldn’t pretend I didn’t know what she meant as I stared into those eyes and watched the tears stream down her pale face. Her voice shook as her trembling hand held back her hair.

With a sigh, I resigned to the trouble this would cause and leaned close to her ear. Yes. I promise you. I am safe.

She broke into loud, wracking sobs. Her body crumbled against my chest as we sank to the tile floor. The hot water pulsed down on us, washing her tears, and the last of my resolve to stay away from her, down the drain with it.

1

MY REALITY

SKYE

I woke to the same cold, empty loneliness I’d woken to for years. Testing the severity of my inevitable hangover, I stretched and turned my head tentatively. My entire body protested the simple movement. Even my eyeballs screamed as I rolled to my side and pulled the comforter over my head. My fingers registered the soft, foreign texture of the blankets before my eyes flew open. My senses noted the unfamiliar scent of the sheets and the enveloping softness of the mattress.

What the— I sat as quickly as I could without getting sick and surveyed my surroundings.

I was on a large bed with an unfamiliar fluffy, white comforter—a far cry from the scratchy blanketed twin bed I’m used to—in what was possibly the nicest hotel room I’d ever seen. And I was alone.

Hello? I called out, vaguely remembering my savior from the night before. My gaze scanned the room. He was nowhere to be found. I glanced down, I was dressed in nothing more than under things. Where was my clothing?

Hugging my knees to my chest, I inhaled deeply as a wave of nausea washed over me. I worked to picture the owner of the voice who helped me last night, and contemplated what I’d done. Sticking to the facts, I replayed the evening. I’d gone to a party with Janelle and Rex. I then proceeded to drink away my troubles at said party. But then what? What resulted in me to a hotel room partially undressed? This situation was out of the ordinary. Typically, I drank myself into oblivion and ended up back at home, courtesy of Janelle and Rex. Hookups were not my thing. They took at least a small amount of trust, and trust was something I didn’t do.

Looking around again, I focused on the room. It certainly was not a ‘by the hour’ type of establishment, judging by the clean linens and rich furniture.

Nope. This was not a random hookup with any of the normal party guys. No one we know can afford this place.

Somewhat mollified, I sank back into the comfortable blankets and closed my eyes. I should go before he returns, if he returns. Odd, though, nothing compelled me to leave. I felt secure and relaxed, better than I had in months, except for the hangover and lack of rest. Exhausted as I was, sleep eluded me. I woke up in a hotel room, half naked, with vague memories of a stranger, but my mind played a single moment back over and over.

I promise you. I am safe.

I contemplate those six words. I couldn’t remember a time when I’d felt safe.

Orphaned under suspicious circumstances and shuffled through the foster care system, safe wasn’t a word I grew up with. Tears stung my eyes. I craved safety like nothing else, and somehow, in a moment of drunken stupidity, I’d found it.

XANDER

 Skye’s sobs reached me before I made it to the hotel door. After she collapsed in my arms in the shower, I held her until the water turned too cold to bear. She was unaware of anything by that point, so I wrapped her in a towel and carried her to the bed. It took all my self-discipline to strip the soaking jeans from her body and place her under the covers.

She was a beautiful child; of course she grew into a beautiful woman. A porcelain doll with flowing locks of chestnut hair and pale, flawless skin. The melody of her sweet laughter on the days we ran and played tag as children had never faded from my memory. The way she yelled at me to give her piggy back rides when we were playing—I pushed the scenes away. It hurt, recalling memories she couldn’t. I watched her for two years. No speaking, no touching. Nothing but watching.

I stood by silently as she tumbled deeper and deeper into the party scene her friends enjoyed. It appeared harmless at first, but more and more she was on a mission to figure out how quickly she could find oblivion. When she left the group home to live with her friend six months ago, I was concerned. I begged Rioden to bring her to our home. He wouldn’t hear of it. Stay the course, he said. She’d be safer away from us until her eighteenth birthday, when any magic protecting her would be washed away. He refused to see the danger she was to herself. I stepped up my surveillance, often sleeping no more than a few hours a day so I wouldn’t miss her movements. In the last few months, I’d been forced to step in and save her from unknown threats several times. Last night was another one of those nights.

Another party. I surveyed the scene as Skye did shot after shot. The same people were there. The shaggy-haired loser who sniffed around Skye for weeks stood beside her, his arm slung over her shoulders. He handed her a new drink each time she downed the one before. Her friends laughed and voices raised, but as I watched through the large crowd, Skye stiffened. She lowered her drink from her lips abruptly and I tensed. Her date whispered in her ear, his hand pushing her cup back to her mouth, but her head shook.

I moved my position to better see her face and discovered her brown eyes were wide as saucers as she stared across the eastern corner of the yard. Her lovely face was etched with fear. Her terror heightened my senses and I craned my neck, searching, as awareness struck. Something lurked in the shadows, a menacing presence in the east, right where Skye stared.

Bound by oath, I stalked the predator, all the while worried about what Skye would do once I no longer had an eye on her. I returned to the party after taking care of the threat, to find Skye had disappeared. Afraid of the position she may have put herself into, panic gripped me. I found her date working on a new, unsuspecting female and felt mild relief. As quickly as one fear was erased, another boiled to life. Skye’s roommate, Janelle, was still at the party. Meaning Skye was there, somewhere.

I worked my way around the house, quickly expanding the perimeter as I went, searching for any clues as to where she’d gone. Visions of her being hauled off plagued me. A plastic cup, similar to the one she’d been drinking out of, lay roughly one hundred feet into the woods to the west of the house. I scanned the area and hoped she’d wandered into the woods to pass out.

It took thirty minutes before I found her face down on the ground near a creek. She’d run through the water, her shoes and the lower portion of her pants were soaked. With nothing but wet jeans and a small shirt on, her body shook from the cold, early November air. I froze and stared at her on the ground, curled in a ball and shaking. I snapped. I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to help her, regardless of the consequences.

I took her to my hotel room, cleaned her up, put her in bed, then sat in a chair and watched her sleep. I’d gone against Rioden’s plans. The anger he’d unleash would be substantial. He’d tell me I’d put her at an unnecessary risk, but now I had tangible proof he was wrong. The monster I killed at the party justified my fear. She was already at risk, and without immediate help, she would likely be gone within a week.

Sliding the key card into the lock, I stepped inside the room and found Skye crying into her pillow. The door closed with a bang, and she bolted upright, startled.

Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I held up the coffee carrier and box of donuts I’d picked up. I figured you would be hungry, so I ran out. I planned on being here when you woke up.

My gaze touched on her messy locks and tear-stained face before it dropped to the bra she’d evidently forgotten was exposed. Something akin to confusion flickered in her eyes, but it was gone in an instant as she studied me in the same manner I studied her. She took note of my stare and glanced down. Her mouth twisted as she pulled the sheet to her chest.

Hey. Her voice was timid, but a half-smile played about her lips. Can I ask what I’m doing here? Her arm motioned around the room.

Setting the donuts on the bed, I walked into the bathroom and grabbed her mostly dry and rinsed out shirt from the towel rack. First things first, here’s your shirt and some coffee. I stepped forward, holding the items out like a peace offering, and after a moment, she took them. She slipped on her shirt, making it easier for me to concentrate, and wrapped her small hands around the warm coffee cup.

Thanks.

Skye—

How do you know my name? Am I supposed to know yours? Because I’m sorry, but I don’t remember it. Her face was once again a mask of confusion. She didn’t seem frightened of me, though, only confused by the situation and the stranger before her.

My brows raised, silently seeking permission to sit as I lowered to the bed. Her hair fell over her eyes as she nodded, and my hand itched to tuck it behind her ear as she pushed it aside.

Skye, I began again as I moved the donuts between us. There are a lot of things I should tell you, but there are many that I cannot. Not right now. I swallowed hard as I met her warm, chocolate brown eyes. What could I tell her? And how? This would be easier with Rioden here. Mentally, I kicked myself for not dropping her off at home last night. Honestly, I don’t know where to begin to try and explain myself to you. I stuttered like a boy on his first date, but I’d piqued her interest with my cryptic explanations.

To my surprise, she opened the donut box and took a deep breath as she inhaled the sweet, sugary smell. Do you have a favorite? she asked, pointing to the box, and in an instant, I was caught in a memory from twelve years ago…

Xander. Xander. Look at them making the donuts. Skye waved me over to the glass window where fresh donuts were being made by a machine. Do you think we could buy one of these? she asked prettily when I walked up beside her.

Sure. Whatever Princess Skye wants, she shall get, I mocked and bowed to her.

Her giggles filled the store as she curtsied and turned back to the donuts.

Oh, yummy. She licked her lips and sighed. I want a hot one right off the belt thingy, Xander. Which one is your favorite?

I pretended to contemplate all the choices and answered with a smile. Whichever one is yours, Princess.

She laughed again and yanked my arm as she pulled me to the counter. I declare you shall have chocolate with pink sprinkles, Sir Xander.

And because I always did what Skye wanted, I ate the chocolate doughnut with pink sprinkles while she devoured two fresh, hot, glazed donuts directly off the conveyor belt.

Do you have a preference? she asked, reining me in from my memory.

Oh, sorry. I just remembered something. No, you pick whatever you want. I’ll eat anything, I replied as my face heated up for sounding like such an idiot.

She plucked a plain, glazed one from the box, and I buried my smile when she licked her lips after the first bite.

Mmmmm. I don’t know why, but I’ve always loved them plain.

We sat in silence as we ate our first donut. Skye kept a watchful eye on me, and I could practically hear the questions formulating in her brain.

Okay, how about I ask you questions and you answer whatever you can. Deal? Her head tilted to one side as a puppy’s would. Look, I know all too well what it’s like to keep secrets. I don’t want to make you say anything you shouldn’t, but I do have questions. Like, how did I end up in your hotel room in my underwear? Did we ... well, you know? She trailed off as her cheeks stained pink.

I shook my head. No, I would never have taken advantage of you in the state you were in. Her shoulders relaxed. You don’t have any memories? I found you in the woods near the party you were at. You were completely out of it, so I brought you here. After you puked all over the carpet there —I pointed to the spot— I put you in the shower and cleaned you up.

Her head bowed, from shame or embarrassment, I couldn’t tell which. Thank you for helping me. She finally replied. Then, almost as an afterthought, she lifted her eyes and asked, But why?

Why? I repeated. You mean why did I help you? She nodded. It was cold out, and you were shaking, and wet, and well, I— I stammered, unsure how to explain what seemed like a random act of kindness.

I didn’t finish my explanation and she scowled. Fine. How do you know me?

What is the best way to answer her? I cleared my throat. I can’t explain that right now.

Okay, then why do you seem familiar to me? The frustration built in her voice. Can you answer that?

My emotions went haywire. Hearing her confirming my familiarity sent a surge of warmth to my chest. A warmth missing since I was nine. Skye, there are many things you need to know, but right now I don’t think you’re ready to hear them. I realize this sounds crazy, but will you put some trust in me without answers? Just for a little while?

My gaze followed the rise and fall of her shoulders as she studied me.

What’s your name?

A grin threatened to appear on my lips. Her composure impressed me. Most people in her situation would have told me off. She’d been through so much in her short life, more than she even knew, yet she sat there calmly hoping I’d answer her questions. And I sat there knowing my answers might be the tipping point that made her crumble.

My name is Xander. I watched her face closely.

After another long moment of silence, she shrugged. Xander? With a Z?

No, an X.

Okay, Xander with an X, I’m intrigued. I haven’t had much of a reason to trust anyone for a very long time, but I’m going to trust you. Her golden-brown eyes searched mine as she whispered, Please don’t make me regret this.

I promise.

SKYE

I’m such an idiot. The thought wouldn’t stop as I sipped my coffee. A drumline pounded away in my head, but I felt better than expected after the previous night. And this guy hadn’t given me anything other than a name and a bunch of questions, but for some clearly psychotic reason, I told him I would trust him. What is wrong with you, Skye?

He was gorgeous as he sat across from me looking casual in dark jeans, a dark tee shirt, and a hoodie. His clothes were typical, but his looks were anything but. His hair was a lighter shade of brown than mine, and while short, the thick strands had that shaggy, messed-up look that made girls want to run their fingers through it. It was the chiseled planes of his face, though, which made tearing my eyes away so hard. He looked like he’d been carved from a piece of marble and brought to life. Jealousy bloomed in my chest at his high, well-defined cheekbones. What girl wouldn’t kill for those? And his lips. I glanced up and shook my head when I caught him grinning. Heat crept up my neck and into my face as blood rushed through my body.

Sorry, I mumbled weakly. I don’t mean to stare, but there is something so ... familiar about you. I keep thinking if I stare long enough I’ll remember it. I rushed to cover my blatant infatuation, but the moment the words left my lips I knew they were the truth. When he said his name, my heart skipped a beat. Xander, Xander, Xander, my head chanted. Maybe I knew a Xander when I was younger? I had no memories of the life I lived with my parents, but since hearing Xander’s voice, my brain’s been swimming with thoughts. Maybe he was someone I should know?

What was it about this guy that made me so willing to let down my carefully constructed walls and let him in? His beautiful face? His soothing voice? The fact that he’d saved me? I had no idea, but I had to trust him. The certainty of that punched me in the gut. That was the true reason I’d decided to trust him. My heart told me there was something special about Xander.

2

NIGHTMARES

SKYE

We finished our donuts and coffee and sat in silence. Our gazes bounced around the room, but never met. The longer we sat, the jumpier he became. His unease got to me as he fiddled with the zipper on his hoodie, while his eyes continuously glanced at the door.

Are you expecting someone? I asked, unable to take another minute of the stressed silence.

About that— Three short knocks cut him off. Yep, Xander finished with a slight smile and a shrug as he stood.

Hold on, he called to whomever waited on the other side and tossed me my jeans from the previous night. You may want to be wearing pants.

I’d forgotten about my lack of clothing and quickly jumped up and slipped them on. Living in a group home doesn’t provide much privacy, so I’d never been particularly shy, but even so, I blushed when I caught Xander’s eyes on me. It was only for a moment, but he checked out my legs as I stood before he turned his back. The heat in his eyes before he turned caused a storm of nerves in my stomach.

Okay, I’m dressed, I assured as I fixed the bedcovers and sat back down. Is this a friend of yours?

He moved to