BELOVED (#3 in The Crystor Series)

By C.K. Bryant

The highly anticipated conclusion to The Crystor Series.

Refusing to believe that Kira is dead, Octavion searches for the truth about her disappearance. But time is running out. The king of Panthera will come for him soon and Octavion can’t leave without knowing she is safe.

Kira thinks the only way she can keep her friends alive is by faking her death, but the lie has only put them in more danger. As she quickly adapts to her new surroundings, she learns more about her gifts and becomes the warrior she was always meant to be.

• Language: English
• Publisher: C.K. Bryant
• Release date: Dec 5, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310571169

C.K. Bryant

Christine has always been a writer. Even before she could compose a single word with pen, she scribbled her version of cursive along the open page just to see what it looked like. As a teen, she swiped her dad's old Royal typewriter so her muse could breathe life into what her vivid imagination had created.She's spent the last twenty-five years married to the man of her dreams and raising their two sons. After helping run the family restaurant for most of their marriage, Christine finally broken away to pursue her dream of being an author.When she's not with her family or tickling the computer keys, she loves camping, reading, scrapbooking, listening to all kinds of music, and making new friends.Christine currently living in the middle of sage brush and lava rock with a spectacular view of the Snake River Canyon in South Central Idaho.

Book preview

Kira slept for three days, waking only when her swollen brain would let her. She’d never felt so much pain. When Draego slammed her head against a tree, her world slipped sideways and crumbled into a million little pieces. She remembered some things, knew who she was and bits and pieces of what had happened, only they were jumbled and, she thought, in the wrong order.

She took in a deep breath of musty, damp air and rolled to her side. The constant drip of rainwater echoing off the cave walls didn’t help her splitting headache. At her side, on the cold, clay-like soil laid her bow, quiver of arrows, and knife. She glanced toward the small opening to find Nigel’s sleeping form slumped against the cave wall, silhouetted by the moonlight streaming in. As far as she knew, he’d not left her side except to find the few berries they’d eaten to stay alive.

Kira adjusted the wool blanket around her shoulders. When she drew her knees up, something moved under the blanket and brushed against her backside. She let out a squeal and shoved the blanket—creature and all—down past her feet, then grabbed her knife from its sheath. Nigel sprang toward her and scooped up the bundle, then clamped his fingers around her wrist. He shook his head, only letting go when she lowered her weapon.

What is that? She pictured a fat rat the size of a pit-bull and the thought of it snuggling up to her made the hair on her arms stand up. She hated rats, even more than she hated being called Mouse by her mother. Get it out of here!

The creature hissed and wiggled while Nigel slowly peeled back the blanket. Kira sat up and scooted against the wall, keeping her knife held tight in her hand.

Are you crazy? Don’t let it out!

The words had barely escaped her mouth, when the creature sprang from Nigel’s arms and came straight for Kira, stumbling before rolling over onto its back and begging for a rub.

Mahli? Kira smiled at the sight of the little white tiger. She remembered now—finding the cub in the forest, her mother’s throat slit and her brother’s little body ripped to shreds by some animal—most likely Shandira. Mahli had been found pressed against her dead mother’s tummy, pumping her front paws in rhythm with her heart-wrenching whimpers.

Nigel shook out the blanket and draped it over Kira. Mahli leapt onto Kira’s lap and curled into a fuzzy ball—or tried to. Her head drooped off one side and her butt off the other. She’d doubled in size since Kira had first seen her and it wouldn’t be long before she’d be too heavy to pick up.

Kira rubbed her arms in an attempt to warm herself. Can we build a fire?

Nigel’s brow furrowed.

Have I asked that before? And you said no? She vaguely remembered it.

Nigel nodded.

I’m sorry. I’m just so cold and my head . . . She reached up and felt the tender spot on the back of her skull, her chopped-off hair still matted with blood. Each time she woke she tried to heal it. She’d managed to seal the wound and stop the bleeding—even the small crack in her skull had mended on the third try—but her brain was a different story. She’d relieved some of the pressure, but the swelling that remained not only left her confused and disoriented, but nauseated as well.

Maybe I should try healing again. I feel more awake now and the pain isn’t as bad.

Nigel scooted closer and shrugged out of his hooded cloak, draping it around her shoulders. He’d offered it several times, but she’d always refused, knowing he had nothing but a thin tunic to guard against the frigid air. This time she accepted it.

Thanks.

She wrapped the thick black fabric around her shoulders, taking full advantage of the warmth that remained from his body. She gently flipped the hood over her head to drown out the sound of the pounding rain, leaned over Mahli and rested her face in her hands. If she could endure the pain of healing long enough, it would rid her of the constant throbbing and maybe her memories would slip back into place and make sense. She could do this.

Focusing on the pain at the back of her head, she tried to imagine the swelling slowly decreasing. With every second, she felt nerve endings under her flesh spring to life, tingling and pulsing as her brain shifted and adjusted. The fingers on her left hand jerked into a spasm that made them curl awkwardly into a claw. A moment later her hand relaxed and her right foot kicked of its own accord, making Mahli jump and scramble to the other side of the cave.

Along with the peculiar gyrations came the memories, all pouring out of her mind like the rain outside. At first they were muddled—Lydia snapping pictures of wildflowers, Mahli chasing a strange butterfly-looking creature, Zerek running his hands up the front of her shirt, Octavion brushing the hair back from Serena’s face.

Octavion.

With that memory came deep, deep sorrow. Oh, how she loved him and wanted more than anything to be with him. But that would never happen. Not after the king of Kazedon put a price on her head and sent his assassins to kill her. She remembered Shandira’s last words, telling her that if Kira lived, everyone she loved would die.

Kira had chosen not to believe her. After all, Octavion had gone to plead with the king to call off his men. But on the road back to Xantara, when Draego and his brother attacked her, she knew there would be no going back. Only her death would satisfy King Tyrius’ hunger for revenge—her punishment for Kira killing his son and only heir of Kazedon.

Kira slid her hand under the blanket and rubbed her thigh where the first swing of Draego’s blade had torn her skin. She’d healed the wound almost instantly, but the tear in her leather pants still remained. She glanced up to find Nigel watching her, concern on his face.

I can’t really remember what happened after I hit my head. It’s kind of a blur. She closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead with the tips of her fingers. I . . . think Draego grabbed my braid and tried to yank me up, but . . . She looked back at Nigel. I cut off my own hair to keep him from doing that, didn’t I? He must have lost his balance because I remember him falling to the ground and then . . .

She looked down at her hands, then at the moonlight filtering through the rain clouds and causing a strange rippling light show across the cave walls. A sickening feeling settled in her stomach.

I flew. She wasn’t sure how she’d come to that conclusion, only that she remembered the feeling of being tied to the end of a pendulum and the way her stomach felt with each swooping motion.

Nigel leaned forward and touched her arm, shaking his head. He pointed to himself, then at the ceiling of the cave.

"You flew?" Something was seriously wrong with the way she’d healed her brain if she believed for one moment that either one of them could fly. She didn’t care how strange this world was, people didn’t sprout wings and fly. At least she didn’t think so.

A smirk lit up Nigel’s face and he shook his head again. He reached for a satchel that sat near her weapons, opened the flap and took out his sketch book Kira had knocked out of his hand in the village. He opened it and retrieved a small thin piece of charcoal from inside the front of the cover.

Kira watched as he drew the scene in the forest. First he sketched a set of tall trees with thick branches. Then he drew the figure of a man standing on one of those branches, the handle of a whip in his hand, the popper end of the whip wrapped around another branch. Next he drew the figure of a girl sitting at the base of that same tree. He stopped drawing, but motioned with his hand from the man to the ground in front of the girl.

You swung down and scooped me up into the trees?

Nigel nodded.

But . . . why? I mean, why didn’t you jump down and kill Draego?

She remembered when she’d been held captive by Shandira—how Nigel waited until Kira had practically starved to death before bringing her food. He’d also been conveniently absent when she fought off Cael and Zerek until she’d spent all her energy and Cael had her pinned under the weight of his body, determined to rape her.

Her blood began to boil and her eyes burned cold, turning the cave a sparkly green. She could see him clearly now, as tiny flits of light bounced around their heads. She folded her arms over her chest. Were you there the whole time, watching him beat the crap out of me?

Nigel stiffened, shaking his head from side to side while reaching for her.

Kira backed away and stabbed a finger toward his face. Don’t touch me. She held his questioning eyes for a few moments while trying to figure it all out in her head. Octavion said Darkords could snap—turn from someone you trusted into a monster in seconds. Had she misjudged Nigel? Had he only saved her so she could be his pet or some kind of trophy?

She shrugged out from under his cloak and shoved it at him. You need to go back where you were. I need to think this through.

The muscles in Nigel’s jaw tightened and his eyes darkened from their chocolate brown to ebony and back again—a quick flash of anger. He let out a huff of air then retreated to where he’d been sleeping, only this time he abandoned his cloak and exited the cave.

Kira let out a sigh of relief. The last thing she wanted was to anger him, especially since he was a Darkord, but until she figured everything out in her head, she couldn’t trust him. She couldn’t trust anyone.

"What in Zi’ah’s name were you thinking?" Altaria barked as Octavion entered their father’s sleeping chambers—a place she’d come to call her prison cell.

He put his hand up in hopes it would silence his sister, but she continued without missing a beat.

Have you no brain? King Tyrius is furious. You have caught him in a lie and embarrassed him in the process. He will never agree to stop hunting Kira now. He will be more determined than ever. Altaria poked a finger at Octavion’s chest. She is as good as dead and it is your fault.

Octavion pushed her hand away. I did no such thing. Draego is the one who could not keep his mouth shut. He let the truth out to his drinking cronies at the village pub. You cannot blame me for that.

"You bribed the pub owner to serve Draego his strongest brew and to keep his mug full. You even paid the other patrons to bring up the subject of Kira’s death and to encourage Draego to tell them what really happened out there. It is your fault."

At least now we know she is alive. You have to admit my idea worked and was worth the price I paid.

You are missing the point. What you did put her in even more danger. And what about Draego’s family? They will seek to avenge his death as well—not to mention the death of his brother when she was attacked. And do not tell me you had nothing to do with Draego’s head adorning a pike in the middle of Kazedon’s village square. She shifted her weight to one foot and propped her fists on her hips. Well?

Octavion slumped against the wooden door. That’s as far as he’d gotten before his sister came at him with her accusations. The last thing he wanted was to fight with Altaria. Mostly because she was right, except for one thing. I had nothing to do with his death.

And his head?

What kind of a monster do you think I am? That did nothing to punish him for his crime, only tortured the innocent women and children who saw it. If it were up to me I would have ripped him to shreds with my bare hands and fed him to the . . . He straightened and walked to the fireplace where large flames licked the cool night air. His imagined revenge was far worse than what anyone else could have done to Draego. Maybe he was a monster. I did not kill him.

Altaria softened her voice. At least tell me you have a plan, that you know where to start looking.

Octavion turned to face his sister. Luka has sent out scouts to gather information, but has yet to receive word. Cade tracked Althros for several hours before it began to rain. The trail he did manage to follow took him north, toward Finvarra. We’ll start there.

So when do we leave? Altaria twisted her long blonde braid between her fingers.

"We? He moved closer, putting his hand on her shoulder. Father would have my hide if I let you leave this room."

He expected her to put up a fight, but she didn’t. Instead she shrugged out from under his hand and went to the window. She separated the drapes so she could peek out, causing a thin strip of light to splash across the room.

Sometimes I can feel her.

Octavion stepped to the window and placed his hand on the small of her back. Kira?

She turned and looked up at him. Though her eyes were the color of blue ice, warmth radiated from them. My kindred spirit. It is as if we are both reaching, our fingertips almost touching, then she’s swept away into the darkness. She lowered her head and leaned into her brother’s arms. I feel empty inside, as if my soul has been taken from me.

Octavion’s heart clenched. With all the concoctions he’d created in his lifetime, not one could cure what ailed his sister. He tightened his arms around her and whispered into her hair. Have you drawn on your faith? Asked Felinea for her guidance?

Altaria’s shoulders slumped as she slowly pushed away, her focus on her feet. I haven’t prayed since I was a child. I had a fragile faith then, and I have none now.

Then perhaps you should start there. He lifted her chin with the tip of his finger until their eyes met. If you can’t believe in the gods, believe in Lydia. When she is ready, you will find her.

He left her standing near the window, her arms sagging at her sides, eyes staring at nothing. What he wouldn’t give to see the Altaria he remembered, the one who never backed down from a fight and believed she could do anything. This Altaria was a stranger to him—broken and lost. And there was nothing he could do to help her.

Kira shook out the blanket and folded it onto her lap. She’d sat on a large boulder basking in the morning sun for over an hour and its warmth had finally soaked in. The rain stopped sometime during the night and with her head mostly healed, her memories seemed to be in the right place. Remembering every detail of the past few days wasn’t exactly a good thing, though. She knew she needed to stay away from Xantara—to make them believe she was dead—but the guilt that came with her lies ripped at her heart.

Now that she’d distanced herself from the situation, she knew Octavion loved her and that the scene she’d witnessed with Serena was innocent. She felt childish for reacting the way she did. How could she have been so stupid? He’d gone out of his way to prove his love for her, so the fact that she’d question that love made her feel unworthy of it.

She reached in her pocket and fingered the ruby pendant that lay there. She missed Altaria and wondered if Lydia had found her way back yet. As much as she hoped she’d had a full recovery, she didn’t dare lower the wall she’d formed to keep Al out of her head, it was too dangerous.

A solid thunk behind her made her jump to her feet and the blanket to fall to the ground. She spun around to find Nigel standing there. If he hadn’t been mute, she was sure by the smirk on his face he’d be laughing out loud. She glanced down at the saddle he’d dropped near his feet. She hadn’t seen it in the cave and couldn’t believe she’d completely forgotten about Althros.

Where’s my horse?

Nigel’s smirk quickly turned to a scowl. He kicked the saddle and motioned to the thick stand of trees that surrounded them. Then he pulled up his right sleeve to expose a dark crescent-shaped bruise. He huffed the air out of his lungs and pushed his sleeve back down.

Kira snorted, then covered her mouth to keep from laughing. Althros bit you? she asked through her splayed fingers.

Nigel nodded, then turned and went back into the cave. Kira picked up the blanket, shook the dirt off and refolded it. She had to get Althros back. No way would she walk all the way to—

She paused for a moment as several images flipped through her mind. Black pine trees covered with long thick vines. A quick flash of the forest floor as seen from up high.

Kira rubbed the back of her neck as the images faded away. Her visions were getting stronger and came more often, but they still didn’t make much sense. She had no idea where Nigel planned to take her. She hadn’t told him about why she wanted to leave Xantara, though she barely remembered mumbling something to him about faking her death as they swung through the trees during their escape from Draego and his brother. Or was that merely a thought in her head? Maybe her memory wasn’t completely intact after all.

A twig snapped in the distance, sending Kira into defense mode. Tossing the blanket onto the boulder, Kira grabbed the hilt of her knife with one hand and reached for her bow with the other. But before she could cross the two steps to where she’d left it leaning against the cave entrance, she saw Mahli romping through the mud toward her. A moment later, Althros came into view, his coat no longer its brilliant bright white, but a muddy matted mess as if he’d been wallowing in slop like a pig.

You two are a mess. Kira crossed her arms and leaned against the rock wall. You’re not going anywhere with me looking like that. It’s embarrassing.

Althros jerked his head up in the air and dug one of his front hooves deeper into the mud. But Mahli kept coming, closer and closer until Kira realized she was about to be lovingly attacked by two very muddy paws.

Oh, no you don’t! Kira pushed away from the wall and took a step back, but instead of putting distance between them, she tripped over the saddle and landed on her backside. The cub was instantly on top of her, mud everywhere, planting slimy kisses on Kira’s face with her rough tongue. Her breath washed over Kira’s face—the putrid smell of fresh blood and what, she had no idea, but it turned her stomach. She pushed the cat’s face away in time to watch her lick her face. A tiny piece of grey fur toppled out and hit Kira on the cheek.

Ew!

A dark silhouette blocked the sun’s blinding rays, then Mahli lifted into the air. Kira rolled to her side and stood, wiping her face with the hem of her shirt. Nigel stood a few feet away with his fist buried in the scruff of Mahli’s fur. He held her a few feet off the ground, their faces only inches apart. Kira wondered if they shared their thoughts, because they both stared intently at one another for several seconds before Nigel finally let Mahli down. She tucked her tail between her legs and wandered a few feet away before she plopped down on a slab of stone and began her bathing ritual.

Kira tried to brush some of the mud off, but only made a bigger mess. You’re always a little late to come to my rescue, aren’t you? She looked up at Nigel’s serious expression. Why is that? You like to see a girl suffer before you step in and become her hero?

Nigel shook his head, his long black hair swaying from side to side. He reached for her arm, clamped his fingers around her bicep and gave it a squeeze. She slapped his hand and pulled her arm out of his grasp.

Can’t you make your point without touching me? She rubbed the place where his fingers dug into her arm. I get it. You think I’m stronger now that the Crystor is working. But what does that have to do with you not helping? I could have been killed more than once while you stood by and watched.

Althros snorted, then continued munching on a patch of grass he’d found near Mahli.

Nigel pointed at himself, then at the vast forest. Next he pointed to Kira and flexed the muscles in his arm.

Kira sighed. I suck at charades. I don’t get it. You’re bigger than any of these trees and you’re stronger than me? Like, duh.

Nigel shook his head, his brow furrowed in frustration. He took a step toward her and she responded by taking two back. He nodded at her retreat, then drew his knife and moved even closer, his eyes shifting back and forth from chocolate brown to the darkest ebony.

What are you doing? Kira’s voice cracked a little as she moved further away, stopping when her back pressed against the stone wall. Nigel, please don’t, you’re scaring me.

But he didn’t stop. His eyes flicked to a solid black with no white showing at all, and a sickening sneer crossed his face. Kira drew her knife as he crept closer and closer with each quickening beat of her heart. This wasn’t happening. When would she ever feel safe in this world?

Althros whinnied and threw his head into the air and a juvenile screech-like growl came from Mahli who now stood, poised to attack—her head low, ears laid back.

Nigel sliced the blade of his knife at her face, but she was too slow to block it. The tip caught her on the chin. She grabbed at the sharp pain, then pulled back her hand and sure enough, he’d drawn blood. She healed it instantly, then dropped to the ground, grabbing her quiver of arrows before darting out from under his outstretched arms.

Kira stopped a few feet away as he turned toward her. This time she was ready. She pulled out one of the arrows, but instead of loading it into her bow, she pointed it at Nigel as if wielding a sword. He stopped his advance and looked at her with a curious expression.

Poisoned arrowheads, she forced out between her breaths. It worked on Shandira, I’m sure it will work on you.

A smile spread across his face and his eyes returned to their normal brown. He slipped his knife back into its sheath and put both hands up in surrender. He nodded, as if giving his approval—of what she had no idea.

Mahli brushed up against her leg, giving Kira a start. Nigel lowered himself to one knee and snapped his fingers at the cub that ran to him.

Traitor.

He rubbed her behind the ears, then looked up at Kira. He held her gaze for a moment, mostly because Kira had frozen in place trying to figure out what had happened. She slowly lowered the arrow until the point scuffed the ground.

Why did you do that?

Nigel stood and repeated the whole charades hand gesture thing again, only this time kept his distance.

Kira thought for a moment, trying to figure it all out. This communication barrier between them was driving her crazy. You think I’m strong?

He nodded.

"And I need to fight? Umm . . . you?"

Nod.

But . . . And then it hit her. He hadn’t been a Darkord as long as Zerek had. It was new to him and maybe the changes, like losing his ability to teleport—or leap, as she called it—would also change other things, like his personality. It was a stretch, but Kira had no other explanation for why he would pretend to attack her. Pretend? He freakin’ nailed me right in the chin.

Kira dropped the arrow back into its quiver and returned to the boulder where she’d spent part of the morning. She looked down at the blood smeared on her hand. You’re afraid you might change—that you might turn on me. Is that it?

Nigel followed her to the boulder and knelt in front of her, lifting her chin with his finger until their eyes met. He nodded again.

And you let me fight my own battles because you may not always be there to save me and . . . She swallowed the lump in her throat. She wanted to trust him, but after seeing what Zerek had been capable of, and knowing what Octavion had told her about Darkords, she knew she’d be forever watching her back. "I may have to fight you one day?"

Nigel lowered his eyes and nodded one last time before Mahli nuzzled her way between them. They both let the tension out of their shoulders and Kira gave the cub a little rub.

Well, one thing’s for sure. She gripped Nigel’s strong shoulder and looked him in the eyes. No more charades for you. We have to figure out a way to communicate that doesn’t involve you coming at me with a knife.

Kira brushed the dried, caked-on mud off her clothes. She did the same with Althros, using a cluster of pine branches as a brush. It didn’t get it all, but enough so a saddle could be strapped to his back without causing him too much discomfort. Nigel was more than a little reluctant to help with the saddle, but once she convinced him she had no experience in that department and that she’d keep the horse occupied, he obliged.

While Kira rode, Nigel walked a few feet ahead. For several hours they weaved between trees, jumped fallen logs and tried to avoid rocks and tree roots. Mahli kept up during the morning hours, only wandering occasionally when she caught sight of something to chase or eat, but by midday she’d fallen behind. After listening to all the whining and hissing—and Kira’s constant suggestions on how the cub could ride with her—Nigel finally used the blanket to make a spot behind the saddle for Mahli to lie. The thick wool fabric kept her from digging her claws into the horse’s rump.

When late evening came and Kira was sure Nigel had no intention of stopping before nightfall, she decided she’d had enough. Her butt and legs were sore from all the riding and Althros was getting hard to control. With only a couple short breaks for food and water, it was a wonder he hadn’t buck her off and left her in the dirt.

Kira pulled back on the reins, swung her foot over the saddle and dropped the five plus feet to the ground. I’m done, she announced while helping Mahli down.

Nigel stopped several feet away. He turned back and shook his head, motioning for her to follow him.

No, I’m done. And so is Althros. So unless you want to carry the saddle, we’re stopping for the night.

Nigel huffed out the air in his lungs, closed the distance between them and stripped the saddle from the horse. Kira kept a tight hold on Althros to prevent him from taking a chunk out of Nigel’s hide.

Now that the thick pad and saddle were off, she unfastened the bridle and lifted it off Althros’ head. She stroked his neck and patted him on the shoulder. There ya go, buddy. Does that feel better?

Kira turned to thank Nigel, but he’d picked up the horse blanket and saddle and was now continuing his trek through the forest.

Where are you going?

He looked over his shoulder and once again pointed into the trees.

What? Are you crazy? She ran to catch up to him, then remembered her bow and the other supplies. She ran back, gathered everything from the ground and took a quick glance at her companions—both looking a little worse for wear. Come on you guys.

Althros jerked his head in the air and Mahli hissed. Yeah, I know. But what can I do? She threw her quiver over her shoulder, readjusted her load and took off after Nigel, who was so far off in the distance she only glimpsed an occasional flash of his white tunic as he weaved between the trees.

By the time she caught up to him, she panted like an old hound dog. Mahli, on the other hand, was full of energy, pouncing on anything that moved. Althros was nowhere to be seen.