Bonds of Blood: The Fated Chronicles Contemporary Fantasy Adventure, #11

By Humphrey Quinn

The quest is over. The war is starting. The end is near…

The Final Installment of the Fated Chronicles (A Contemporary Portal Fantasy Adventure).

"Before we can be brave, we must learn what it is to be afraid. Before we can appreciate unconditional love and unwavering loyalty, we must first understand what it is to be hated, exploited, and cast aside. Before we can fight with the desire to win our freedom, we must experience what it means to lose it. Only then, can any of us ascend to greatness, and truly appreciate what it means to live."

 

Jurekai Fazendiin has spent multiple lifetimes preparing for his new world.

His opposition has spent as many preparing for the inevitable battle to stop him.

But the Grosvenor has done his damage and staked his claim.

 

And now it's time for our beloved heroes to do the same.

The time for planning is over.

The time for war is at hand.

And the greatest test of all, begins now…

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rachel Daigle
• Release date: May 9, 2017
• ISBN: 9781540144508

Humphrey Quinn

Ruby Raine writes steamy supernatural witch mysteries... 

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

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Stripped Down to Skin and Bones

Colby 's cheek pressed flat against the bed. At some point during the night, after an absurd number of hours feeling like he was going to die, his mind, his body, his spirit, had emptied, given up, and he'd passed out. Originally, wrapped up in Jae's protective arms. And currently, with Elisha snuggled up down by his feet, and Jae on his side in front of him, his face, about a foot away and close enough to touch, but Colby didn't quite have the nerve.

It was far too early to get up, Colby guessed around four in the morning, but he had awakened twenty minutes ago with a panicked start that had subsided almost instantly when his mind registered where he was, and who he was with. He'd spent every second of the last twenty minutes staring at Jae, just watching him sleep. There was something—soothing—he decided, about this. And Colby thought it a truly odd thing, to be so perfectly contented to simply watch someone sleeping.

At some point after he'd passed out, hours before, Jae had managed to remove their bulky boots and thrown them off to the floor. Colby was against the back wall of the wagon, with Jae on the outside as if using himself like a protective barrier between Colby and the outside world. A place he was not yet ready to venture out into.

He shuddered at the mere idea of stepping foot outside. Somehow, after the events of the previous night, it was like stepping into a place he'd never been before. A place where he recognized nothing, including himself. He tried to tell himself it was the same world, and that it hadn't changed. But it had. Everything had changed. Including him. Although, all he felt right this moment, was empty. No defenses left to face that unfamiliar world lurking just outside the wagon walls.

Everything that he'd been before, was gone. He'd been stripped down to skin and bones and blood; valuable blood, that would never allow him to truly be free. Blood that pumped its way through a body that no longer worked the same way, or thought the same way. And it had no capability of knowing what to think, or how to be. It was just... empty. In need of someone else to make the choices, the thoughts, the movements of life, for him.

In some ways, it wasn't so different from how he'd lived his life before. His father had called the shots. Made the choices. Called out the orders. Colby simply obeyed. He never had free will. His father had made him believe he did, but it was a lie. A farce. Like so many other things when it came to his father. A long, continuous line of lies and manipulation meant to serve only a single purpose—his own.

But now that Colby had let go of all that, or faced it, or whatever the hell had happened the night before... his father wasn't the one calling the shots now. But Colby was not ready to either. So how was this any better? He couldn't help but wonder. And it certainly wasn't fair to expect Jae to take over. Essentially, though, Colby had replaced one for another. That's all he'd managed to accomplish. He wasn't capable of living on his own because he'd never done so. It was always his father leading the way—making up the rules—so why was Colby perfectly contented, relieved even, to let Jae take over?

In a way, what Colby needed was to get up, and learn to walk on his own feet; think and do for himself—whatever that meant. And perhaps that was part of the problem, he had no clue how to do that. No idea where to start. So he was okay with Jae taking the reins. Because Jae Mochrie would never be Jurekai Fazendiin. A man and father not capable of love. Only scheming. Only playing his games. Only getting what he wanted. Without concern over what might be lost in the process, because his father only held value in his own life. No one else's. He had no problem devaluing all other life. And he made no exception for his own children—brought into this world to serve a purpose, just like everything else in his father's life.

He held no value in the daughter he planned to use—and basically murder—to increase his already immense power. And none for the son he'd for some reason, chosen as an infant, to be a king.

What bull.

A king...

His father would always be the one in charge.

Colby would never have true free will.

But Jae would never force him to be anything he didn't want to be. He'd never barter for his affections. Trick him into thinking he loved him, to get what he wanted. And that's why it was different. That's why Jae was different. That's why following someone blindly, like his father, versus allowing someone to take over, like Jae, in full awareness of doing so... it changed things. Jae being Jae, made it okay.

It didn't make Colby feel any less useless at this very moment, however. And it was a heck of a time to feel this way—because danger lurked at every corner. For all intents and purposes, they were two fugitives on the run. Trouble wasn't going to stay away forever. It would find them, and he'd never been so helpless to do anything about it when that happened.

Jae shifted, a few stringy strands sliding down over his face. Colby lifted his arm and brushed them away. He liked that view better. And touching Jae not only gave him a sense of peace, but reassured him Jae was real. That this wasn't all just a dream. Or a nightmare. Or some delusion brought on by insanity.

However, this new need to make sure Jae was real was something Colby had never experienced before, and didn't fully understand. And made him—he sighed in heavy disappointment. It would always come back to weakness. Because as he'd just been thinking, this was possibly the worst time ever to be weak, and helpless.

But this new weakness wound him up in a different sort of panic than he was used to. Because the pathetic truth was, he needed someone else—Jae—to take the reins. And now that he had let Jae do this, Colby wasn't sure he was ever going to be strong enough to take them back. And that was a frightening place to be. And a disparaging admittance.

His hand lifted unconsciously to tuck away another strand of Jae's hair only to find his own hand suddenly held captive. Holding Jae's hand was possibly one of the best things ever, Colby decided. It was indescribable, this act of touching someone—most especially when they wanted to touch you back.

His grandmother had shown him kindness, but seeing as she was a glass prisoner most of his childhood, there was no affection. No hugs, or sympathetic pats on the arm... only distant and vague encouragement. It wasn't her fault. Once again, the blame was with his father. Nevertheless, it was Colby's reality. And he only had vague memories of being held by his mother. It was so long ago, and memories his father had done his best to wipe out.

Touching Jae was hurriedly becoming a pleasant addiction. One that made all Colby's other worries seem inconsequential, if only for a minute or two, before they slid back to the forefront of his mind.

Like Jae sensed his thoughts on the subject, Colby found himself dragged in even tighter. Jae's hand released his and slid over his shoulder, landing supportively on the back of his neck. His eyes flickered open and a tired smile etched across his face—like Colby was the one thing he wanted to see when he opened his eyes, and that made him... what did it make him? A human-sized swarm of butterflies, for starters.

Colby leaned in daringly, kissing Jae before he had the chance to lose his bravado. He pulled away quick though, and closed his eyes in what Jae recognized as personal belittlement.

What's going on in that head of yours?

I needed to make sure you were real. And how pathetic is that? Colby left off.

Jae grinned. If kissing is what it takes— he closed the space and sank into Colby's lips in a kiss that seared the reality right into him. When he pulled away, they both had to catch their breath. Am I real enough yet? Or do I need to prove it a little more?

Colby bit his lip and shied away his gaze.

Jae got serious. Tell me what you're thinking. Please.

I was having these—dreams. Nightmares. I woke up afraid none of this would be real. Afraid— he trembled, unable to finish the answer.

You thought you'd wake up and be back with your father, Jae assumed. Colby nodded. Jae lifted himself and peered directly into the piercing blue eyes he couldn't get enough of. You don't ever need to see him again if you don't want to. It's your choice. You might be thinking at some point you need to face him— Jae shook his head. "Facing him, doesn't make you stronger. It doesn't prove anything. Putting him in your past and living the life you want—that's strength. Just remember, your life is your choice. Not his. Not mine. Not anyone's. It belongs to you. Only to you."

Are you sure you're real?

Colby found himself on his back with Jae's arms on either side of his head. How many kisses is it going to take to prove my existence?

Colby matched Jae's grin, it was impossible not to.

Thank you. Jae's smile flagged just a little at the sincerity in Colby's simple, but heartfelt words. I don't think I've said that to anyone before. And if I did, this is the first time I ever meant it. You said you wouldn't leave me—and you didn't. And I was pretty sure I was going to die, he left off in pathetic misery.

Jae's gaze drew inward. He'd royally messed up his own life, but before that, even though he'd had some tough times, especially with his father, he'd had a family. A sister. Friends. Not many, but he'd known these things—taken them for granted, but known them. Colby had never experienced any of these things. And giving his trust so unconditionally was—

Did I say too much? The fragility in Colby's voice got Jae riled.

No. It's not that. Not that at all. I just— he breathed out. I'm not sure how to phrase what I'm trying to say. It was his turn to be the flustered one. "I've always been out of step. Always looking for something—something bigger. Something more than I had. Which landed me where I am now. But I guess it's also that no one has ever put their trust in me before. No one's ever specifically needed me."

Is it okay that I do? Colby was in brand new territory today. Never before explored lands which would require time to learn how to maneuver. I think I might need you—a lot. And that was possibly the hardest thing he'd ever admitted to anyone.

Jae answered with a swift attack on the young man.

He pulled away with a clipped laugh when Elisha purred out an annoyed meow. But the grin spreading on Colby's face was worth it. Jae chuckled, but then burst into a laugh. Surprising even himself at the joy in it. He hadn't had a reason to smile, or laugh, in such a long time. It wasn't something he ever expected to have reason to do, ever again.

You can need me every single minute, of every single day, if you want to.

Especially if it means you get to kiss me, Colby teased with a grin.

Is there any better reason?

Jae watched the tension in Colby's gaze lessen. He needed to hear those words. Have that reassurance. Jae dragged them back into a more comfortable sleeping position, wrapped around each other, with the blanket tucked back in around them.

I'm not going anywhere, Jae whispered. At least, not because he wanted to. He still had the whole Juliska—Scratcher—bond to break, and deal with. But he'd not think about that yet this morning. Let's get some more sleep. You need that as much as you need my kisses.

Colby smiled against Jae's chest. He wasn't wrong though, and the sleepiness snagged him quick, dragging him under only minutes later. It took Jae a little longer. His mind refused to rest until he heard the soft, relaxed breaths against him. When he was confident Colby was asleep, he gave into his own slumber.  

CHAPTER 2

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The Questions I Don’t Yet Know to Ask

Meghan had awakened early and found herself unable to fall back to sleep. After tossing around for another hour she gave up, got dressed, and made her way outside. The air was cool and moist. Fog hovered at the edge of the trees and across the river. Considering the sun was hours from rising, the Tunkapog village was bustling—lately it never seemed to stop. Albeit, tonight's action was a reserved and dampened sort of busy as they prepared to burn the dead from the previous night's battle on the Svoda island. It was a bittersweet somberness that painted the landscape almost as thick as the slowly lifting fog.

She caught herself smirking when she happened across Billie and Maura carrying wood to someone who was building a pyre, and overheard Maura's snide remark about hoping she'd never find herself so close to another pyre again. Understandable, considering she'd almost been burned at the stake by the Stripers.

Meghan wrapped her sweater around herself a little tighter and ambled along a path into the woods that ended when she reached the river that wound its way around the Tunkapog's homeland. It was their means of transportation. Not only here, locally, but also granted them instant access to hundreds of other places across the world. It was an intricate system of waterways, with archways that served like magical highways. A genius way to travel, and only the Tunkapog knew which arches went to where. Meghan imagined it would take a lifetime to memorize.

But best of all about this place, she was alone. And the sweeping gurgle of the river allowed her thoughts to liberate themselves and take her mind where it needed to go. To think in peace, on her own, without the constant barrage of questions, worried stares, and restless pacing of those around her on this seemingly endless night.

So much had happened over the last few years, heck, the last day alone, that it was hard to process it all and figure out where to go from here. Her job was clear—destroy the Immortality Stone and in the process, remove her father from power. But exactly how she was going to accomplish that task was still a mystery. It wasn't as easy as step inside his estate, seek, and destroy. Or was it? Perhaps she was making the task harder than it had to be.

When she'd first heard about the prophecy, it had been believed that she, along with Colin and Colby, would have to find some way to come together, and work together, to one end or another. But then the reality was that the prophecy wasn't real. Meghan had been the one to go back in time and create the prophecy. Which had been interpreted over many years by people who had no idea this was the case. And in some ways, had put all their faith in it being true.

Which in many ways was hard to wrap one's brain around because in the end, the prophecy was true—to a certain extent—seeing as what she'd created paved the way for others to essentially, make it true. Like her father, who was doing his best to exploit the supposed prophecy for his own benefit. Or her uncle, or Kanda, and others, who hoped that the prophecy meant that one day, this long fought battle would come to an end. And for Robert, Jasper and Aloyna, it had meant a lot of sacrifice that would hopefully pay off.

So yes, it was fake. Made up to serve a purpose. But in the creation of the prophecy, it had also become real—at least for Meghan. And it was only fair in the end that it was herself who'd be responsible for making sure it wasn't created for nothing. She would have it no other way. And it seemed like her brothers need not be involved at all.

After what Colby had gone through, and all he'd been stripped down to, how could she even think of asking for his help? Hadn't he done enough? Suffered enough? He was a casualty of her prophecy—her good intentions. Yes, he'd done some bad things, but he was not an inherently bad person. He'd just been raised that way. He didn't know any better—well, now he did. And it was clear he didn't want to return to that old life. And he should not have to.

Then there was Colin. A loose cannon about to explode or implode at any moment. He might want to help her, but it wasn't safe for him to do so. His magic was not stable, even with the help of Jasper, or The Magicante. Colin was—something more. Something unknown. Something there was no comparison to. It was hard to fathom being afraid of your own thoughts. That a mere idea could end up hurting someone. Or killing someone. Changing the world in a way not yet understood. And it was going to get worse as Colin aged and his magic increased. Or if he gave into any emotional duress. So basically, if he had a bad day, and who the hell didn't, he was screwed.

So how did all this factor into everything?

Did her brothers need to be involved at all?

Even if she managed to succeed and destroy the Stone and her father, she still had the misery ahead of dealing with Colin. Her vision of killing him loomed too close to the surface of reality. There had to be another way.

In the end, it all came back to her. She was the only one with the right stuff to finish the job. It was her Firemancy, and her yet undeveloped ability as a vampyre, that were needed to destroy the Stone. Meghan hoped that by destroying it, she'd also remove her father's immortality, and therefore, weaken him enough to take him out of power, permanently.

Which meant he needed to die. Period. He could not be left alive. That would be taking too big a risk that he'd regroup. And he'd already proven he was an earnestly patient man, if nothing else.

Her grandmother, Aloyna, had discussed the vampyre side, but Meghan had yet to try it. And the way she understood things, she might not be able to practice beforehand. And had but to hope that when it came down to the moment, her ability would activate, naturally. Because if she practiced, it meant on a living person, which meant she'd let the vampyre side free and it would require her to suck off the life-force of others, in order to live.

The need was intense once you gave in... at least, this is what Meghan had been told. And what she'd seen as truth in her vision about the life of Juliska Blackwell, too. And for Meghan, it also meant her human life would be extended. It was a sacrifice she might have to make, and her only reason not to was Sebastien. Because even though he was a magical being, he'd only live a normal, human lifespan. She supposed