Exalted (Chronicles of Orian 3 of 3)

By Karen Glista

In the final book of the Chronicles of Orian series humans and humanoids alike have finally recouped from the vengeful Scaf wars. Randar and Bekka, as well as the inhabitants of Zentha, have now enjoyed eighteen years of peace and prosperity—but it’s all about to change dramatically.

Morgana, the last hope of the Vadarc Nation, has blossomed into a beautiful princess, primed and ready to ascend Uldrame’s throne—or so it would seem. The blue-eyed deuce, suddenly finds herself battling not only her volatile Vadarc temperament, but unbidden images instilled at birth by the Orpher’s bite. As the prophetic visions, fueled by a lustfully handsome, yet deadly drone, push her to the brink of insanity, she finds herself teetering between prideful, Vadarc heritage and a morbid desire for Scaf revenge.

Vlad, first born of the evolutionary hatchlings, has come of age and quickly discovers that he is not alone. Fueled by lust, revenge and an insatiable desire not only for blood, but human souls, the hatchlings ravage the land, scores of nude and blood less corpses left in their wake.

Amidst the mayhem, scores of events, cataclysmic in nature, escalate and worlds collide. The hatchlings, no longer at the top of the food chain, find themselves pitted against Langarres, an old and ruthless adversary made up of dominant female Magus and subservient male Acolytes that morph human to wolf to serve their masters. Seemingly, all is lost and as the populous succumbs and the rotting bones of Orian’s soil, cry out for revenge, the land, believed by the Scaf to be a living, breathing entity, strikes back. In the final hours of this antiquated era, Bekka, cast from one world to another and plagued, not only by voices her entire life, but horrific nightmares come’s face to face with the shocking truth.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Karen Glista
• Release date: May 21, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370040056

Karen Glista

Karen has been writing for years, spinning countless stories from the real to life charac-ters who roam the labyrinths of her mind. Motivated to share these many beloved, some hat-ed individuals she is now debuting Embellished from “The Chronicles of Orian”. When she is not working as a registered nurse in the Great Lake State, she enjoys family, friends, cooking, camping, Facebook, gardening, online gaming, a beloved dog named Fozzie and master of the house, Cassiopeia, the calico cat. For more information, please check out Facebook at facebook.com/karens-books. A web-site as well as book two and three in the Chronicles of Orian trilogy to follow.

Book preview

BOOK THREE:

EXALTED

Karen Glista

EXALTED

1st Edition

Copyright ©2017 by Karen Glista. All rights reserved.

This novel is a work of fiction. Any and all names, characters, places, businesses and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously. Any and all like resemblance to actual events, places, people living or dead as well as documented situations are purely coincidental.

Acknowledgments:

*Thank you to my editor, Chereese G. who puts up with tedious job of editing my long, drawn out novels.

*Thank you to Claudia at Phatpuppyart, Katie McKinney and Marcus Ranum photographer for my beautiful cover art.

*Thanks to my husband, Rich, who puts endless hours into formatting my novels and oversight when I am lost in writing. I appreciate the time brainstorming and the fact that he indulges my endless fantasy that my characters are real.

*Thanks to my daughter, Angie and four terrific grandkids, Michael, Lucas, Madison, and Makenzie.

*Thanks to family and friends who support and believe in me, you are my heartbeat and I am truly blessed.

*Finally let me say thank you to the readers. You guys are the most awesome folks on earth and I want to thank you for taking the time to read the E series, Embellished, Extolled, and Exalted. I am so thrilled that you got to meet Bekka and Randar and I so hope that you enjoyed your time with them as well as the other characters. I pray the overall experience will leave you forever thinking of Orian and that like Bekka, you will find hope in your darkest hour. It’s your game of life—live it!

TABLE OF CONTENTS

About_the_Author

Dedication

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

Chapter_29

Chapter_30

Epilogue

Coming_Soon

About the Author

Karen Glista

A simple story-teller, wife, mother, grandmother…friend. When she is not working as a registered nurse in the Great Lakes State, or writing, she enjoys family, friends, cooking, camping, the Pine River, Facebook, gardening, online gaming, reading, good movies, and a beloved dog named Fozzie.

Karen’s personal blog, with links to all her published works, is located at karenglista.com. You can also like her Facebook page at facebook.com/KarenGlistaBooks/ to be notified when new novels are published.

DEDICATION

I dedicate this book to you.

Chapter 1

Time for the curfew drew nearer, and a hubbub of hurry-scurry filled the cobblestone streets as the citizens of Kalette, acutely aware of the hour, finished up their day.

Rafe Bandalia ambled the crowd caught up in the ballyhoo of confusion as the masses scurried, homeward bound, fearful of night. Near a lamp-post he paused and pulled out his arched ball pipe with gold accents; a treasured token stolen from the home of a wealthy socialite who at the tender age of eleven provided his first, unforgettable encounter with ecstasy. He touched a wooden tender to the lamp’s flame, and lit up. He toked, smoke rising around him and like a silent observer, absorbed the pandemonium.

A surreptitious glance to the ethereal sky revealed an ebony dome with a million stars all about. He inhaled, the aromatic smell of pipe weed wafting and through the smoke encircling his head, flashed his numinous eyes to the overhead orb illuminating the city. Spellbound, he could only stare, rooted in place but as a battalion of soldiers in green and white uniforms with a rataplan of boots on the cobblestone street drew his attention, he averted his gaze. As the cacophony dimmed and the King’s squadron, manning bayonets to their shoulders, disappeared from sight, he snuffed out his pipe, tucked it away and once more, joined rank with the chaotic crowd.

Amid miners, huddled beneath domed rock enclosures, the burned-out scent of smelting ore drew his senses. He cast a look, mesmerized by the undulating flames and before him, with sweat glistening on muscled bodies, he took notice of two Vadarcs and a Vaetter manning forges as they hammered feverishly on red hot iron. He slowed his saunter, all but bumping into two young females who instantly flashed emboldened smiles which was, by no means an uncommon occurrence, for since the age of twelve, he had never lacked for female admiration. Stoic, he kept walking for the gesture left him as empty as an unlocked vault, but then truth be known…when you’re one of a kind, empty becomes a way of life. He raised a hand and coursed his mane, thick and heavy from his face then set his stride and within the vendor’s quarters caught a flurry of last minute shoppers, arms burdened with cheese, bread, slabs of meat from the market and on occasion, a cask of ale. Steadily navigating the confused racket, he entered the bowels of the city, the one place where curfew, as well as most laws were either ignored or nonexistent. Flagrant, he pushed his way past a drunken Vaetter, a group of ruffians and homeless souls who were littering the alleyways and on a street corner leaning upon an oil lamp, he caught sight of a well-dressed accomplished villain with beady eyes in search of a victim.

Unconcerned for it was the nature of hell’s alley; verbiage used by most lawful citizens who dared not venture these perilous streets, he marched with an ardent gaze, floating unto the damned. Drawing nearer with a muscled stride, formidably stout and square jawed with dark hair and eyes to match, he approached the local tavern, the festive sound of music reverberating. From the outside the building’s structure, which was a perfect mix of river rock and mortar, it looked welcoming with warm light leaching from the open front door. He entered, invited in by roars of laughter and music so loud that it pressed upon him. His eyes burned, smoke as thick as fog hovering in the room, all but drowning out the overhead log beams which supported the upper story. He made his way over rough plank floors, past crude tables crafted of pine and hemlock toward a bar all but occupying one wall with a narrow staircase on the end.

Framed by thick, sweeping lashes, he flashed his dazzling eyes which reflected the oil lamps equidistantly adorning the walls, at two scantily dressed females, dancing atop a table. He eyed them consideringly, spinning and grinding, lifting their gowns with a glimpse of heaven as a raucous group of drunken males cheered them on.

He averted his ebony eyes, and licked at his dry lips which turned up slightly revealing scarcely visible lines etched on both sides. A drunken Vaetter bumped into him and he shoved him away traversing the crowd, the smell of brew enticing. Finding the heavily packed bar which was hewn of white pine and stained a dirty brown by years of spilled liquor, he paused, not a vacant stool in sight. He inhaled, the heady smell of brew, sweat, pipe weed and male bodies not accustomed to soap and water, wafting. He maneuvered his frame, not at all gently, squeezing between a hulking Vadarc the size of a bull and an off-duty soldier with half closed eyelids who was drooling into his brew.

The bartender was swamped but she didn’t fail to notice him and as he watched her, like a silent observer she cast a look with seductive eyes as she manned the wooden kegs topping off mugs with frosty brew. She was a looker, fleshy and soft, a little on the plump side in a tight black skirt no decent woman would be caught dead in. He leaned upon the bar for a better view and for a moment her full bosom which was as beguiling as any he had ever witnessed held him captive. She made her way toward him with milky white twins, luscious and full, threatening to escape a lacy black undergarment which was clearly visible. He forced his eyes to her face and cocked his head. She was a woman no mortal man would deny, a woman made for one thing, and it was written all over her beautiful face. He scanned her sable hair, matching eyes, thick lips and then back to her partially exposed breasts but as his eyes found her delicately arched neck, the sight forced a shudder. He swallowed hard begot by hunger, not of her body nor her sexual prowess for that was not what enticed him. It was her blood. He could smell it.

What’ll it be big guy? She winked.

Brew…dark please.

She spun amid the clamor of piping voices, drew it up and plopped it down. Two pence, she winked leaning over the bar, giving him a first-hand glimpse of her assets.

Rafe flipped a bronze coin on the counter his eyes locked on her face which was absolutely mesmerizing.

The soldier at Rafe’s side leaned toward her with half closed eyes. What time do you get off sweetie, he slurred.

Midnight, she winked, ignoring the solider as she shared a come-hither look with Rafe.

Rafe took a step back, her heartbeat pounding in his head. He turned up his mug, quaffing the dark brew which burned his gullet. She was demanding of attention and she certainly had his, but midnight was a long way off and the hypnotic gush of nectar pulsing in her jugular had him on edge. He needed attention…now, later would not suffice. She fluttered her lashes and his body turned rigid, his hunger supreme. He turned up the mug, emptied it and slammed it down. He turned to leave with a hard, wicked knot in his gut.

Leaving so soon? She called out.

So completely aroused by the smell permeating from her body that he feared exposure…he ignored her and walked toward the door. Distracted by the squeals of the dancing girls, which in his mind’s eye sounded like foreplay, he found himself so aroused that he paused and with tremulous lips, clenched his fist at his side. He loved the chase, the fear in their eyes, the screams as death claimed them. He fired his glazed eyes to the tables in the center of the room, occupied by drunken, testosterone induced men howling like wolves, clapping and whistling, enjoying themselves…perhaps a bit much. A hulking Vadarc, completely begot by importunate need, grabbed one of the lovelies, her screams echoing as he started for the stairs.

The female bartender ran out to meet him, blocking his path. She extended her open hand, palm up. Tsk, Tsk, Tsk, she mouthed, shaking her head. No one goes upstairs with one of my girls without paying.

The Vadarc dug in his pocket and tossed her a coin.

She bit it with her teeth, then smiled, satisfied of the exchange. She backed off and the Vadarc, growling with desire, ascended the stairs, the buxom beauty dangling over his shoulder.

The bartender turned and flashed a look to Rafe.

He examined her internally, starving with need and as he zeroed in on her heart, valves clicking as warm, sweet blood gushed her aorta he fought the desire to take her where she stood, kill every soul in the building and walk away, fulfilled. He shook it off, his groin throbbing with desire. He opened his eyes, which he didn’t realize he had closed to once more eye her jugular, and the sight, which was completely compelling, forced a formidable shudder. Fearing exposure, for truth be known he was nearing the point of no return, he spun, muscles rippling, long torrents of black hair flying as he took his leave.

Outside the tavern, the streets were near empty, curfew in effect. Tremulous, he exhaled, the moment surreal for the bartender, in all her glory was everything he could dream of, and more.

Pity, he whispered as he took to the shadows, traversing the lonely places, biting at his lip. She occupied his mind and although his body was throbbing with need, he couldn’t help himself and pulled on his data banks to once more visualize her jugular. The sound of her beating heart forced his body to a state of rock hard steel and by no will of his own, twin fangs inched from his lips. Exposed, he morphed to invisibility.

If I could only have you… forever mine.

Hearing a groan, he caught sight of a drunken ruffian in an alleyway. He paused and although it was easy prey, certainly a meal that would satisfy his need of heme, he turned away. He wanted the whole deal, a creature he could use not only for feeding, but to satisfy the carnal lust which always followed and he knew it would, with a throbbing vengeance.

He flashed, his surroundings a blur, moonlight spilling over mountains. He streaked up a winding hill past a towering cathedral to the heart of the city, and there rooted in place, he gazed upon a white stone castle rising like a beacon of hope. He leapt atop the sixteen foot walls and with his body nigh invisible, he perched like a bird of prey. Before him, unfolding in striated shadows lay immaculate gardens, fountains and sculptured terraces with white stone paths. He cast his eyes upon marble steps which spiraled upward to humbly bow beneath sculptured, twin doors. He analyzed the elite guards adorned in silver armor, protecting the splendor, opulence, and royal blood that lay beyond. A gentle breeze tossed his long dark locks as he cast his eyes to the perfect tiled roofs and round twin towers topped in green and white flags. He took in air but other than the guards, not a drop of blood was detectable.

He frowned.

The recent discovery of blood drained corpses had the city on edge, especially the King who now kept guards posted around his children, every minute of every day. His stomach growled with intermittent pain occupying his chest as his hunger, primal in nature, raged. He eyed one of the guards, strong and virile and it occurred to him that he could, if need be, take of him, after all, blood is sweet and a romp to the backside could be satisfying, but recalling the bartender’s luscious breasts, his hand found his groin. He squeezed.

No, I need a female…no male…not tonight. She has set me on fire and now…a bitch must die.

He flashed amid elongated fingers of shimmering light then leapt up and over a six-foot wall into the servant’s quarters. He took in the meager cabins rising from the ghostly guise of darkness. He navigated the empty streets, undetected, predator that he was and with every step he cringed, the smell of blood invigorating.

He abandoned the streets and moved with stealth cabin to cabin, home to home. Peering into windows and past open doors where men congregated for marble games and cards, he stalked the unsuspecting with stolen glances through worn and weathered shutters searching with an increasingly, rapacious appetite. He paused, caught a sound, then flashed toward a log and mud chinked cabin. He cocked his head, chills migrating his spine as he listened to the enchanting sound of a woman’s voice singing an old melody. He leaned his six-foot frame in among the shrubs, agile fingers griping the window sill and as he watched, with long black hair falling around his chiseled face, chill bumps ravaged his skin.

The woman moved closer to his visual range, a wooden bowl in one hand, a long-handled spoon in the other. He caught the scent of corn meal, raw egg, salt and milk and as she stirred the concoction, the flickering hearth cast shimmers of light in her golden hair. Her sweet enchanting melody all but reminiscent of his Queen mother, who in her youth sang constantly, lulled him but as he watched, sniffing her blood and analyzing her internal organs, the knot in his gut, centered beneath his rippled abdomen, hardened. He licked at his lips mesmerized by the slant of her flirtatious eyes, emboldened by thick lashes.

I want you… all of you.

He stared, beads of sweat gathering on his brow and as his desire as hard and demanding as any could imagine intensified, he touched himself, stifling a moan, his eyes locked on her thick pouting lips which were surely made to satisfy him and him alone. His pulse quickened amid mental explosions and instinctively his data banks fired, capturing and storing every moment as he slowly eased the wooden shutter wider. His breaths grew ragged as he closed his eyes imagining the inner warmth of her body…her last breath of life. He imagined her eyes begot by terror, dilated pupils, a tremulous lip and surely as death surrounded her with nowhere to run, nowhere to hide there would be tiny beads of sweat popping out on her forehead, so savory and intense, salty on his tongue and he would have them… all of them as well as her soul forever locked in his data banks.

With the flood gates open and no way to contain the hunger now washing over him, he inched the shutter wider. Suddenly, rooted in place, his nostrils flared as a scent, male in origin yanked him from the throes of passion. He narrowed his eyes, as the cabin door swung wide, creaking on rusted hinges.

Eleanor! I’m home, a bearded, husky man announced.

Rafe shook with rage, his lips tremulous as he watched her run toward the man. They fell together, arm in arm and two other men entered the room, pistols on their hips, one with a cask of ale in arm.

A bit of drink and cards, the man laughed, his joy as piercing as daggers.

Rafe backed away, desire thwarted as pheromones, thick and heady with the scent of musk escaped his lips. He turned to the other homes, then froze, the tapping sound of heels on the cobblestone road. He titled his head, the sentry patrol approaching.

Grrrr, another night of hunger… alone with my data banks or should I find a male and bend him to my will?

He winced, the bartender’s breasts front and center. He flashed.

~~~

Before an oval looking glass, somewhat tarnished and well past its prime, Blaine Bandalia, seated upon a tattered, red velvet foot stool, picked up a wooden hairbrush. She cast her dark slanted eyes adorned by sweeping lashes to behold her image, thin, petite and graced with curves most women would die for.

A growl from her stomach, forced a wince.

Rafe…where are you brother? Get home…you’re not the only one with needs.

She ran the brush through her hair, which lay in undulating torrents of ebony pitch and as she swiped the wood handled brush again and again, the locks shimmered with blue highlights. She tilted her almond shaped face to the right exposing her thin delicate neck. She froze, the brush in mid swipe, then raised her petite fingers and gently touched twin puncture sites, midway of her ear and shoulder as her data banks, as uncontrolled as the rising sun, fired so abruptly that she cringed. The hair brush slid from her hand and bounced across the rough plank floors as unbidden visions of her father and the Orpher loomed, so real that she could feel their breaths. Ague chills, like a child with fever spread over her as the undeniable voice of the Orpher resonated.

Vardum Bandalia…the discoverer. You have done well ravager. Give me the hatchling and let me instill within her all things Scaf.

She watched like an out of body experience as her father presented her, writhing and screaming unto the Orpher’s hands who immediately raised her over his head, screeching. She could see her father at the Orpher’s feet, licking him subserviently and then with the Orpher’s greedy mouth upon her, she felt his fangs pierce her neck. She watched, hypnotically as she had so many times before as the toddler’s face…her own…which was skewed into agonizing misery, suddenly turned placid as the Orpher, gripping her limp body dropped to his knees, sharing blood.

All but falling from the foot stool, which snatched her from reverie, she grasped the looking glass and with eyes wide, slammed the data bank. She exhaled with a huff and although it was over…she still trembled. Staring at her reflection, she gently raised a hand to grace her brow.

So long ago…seventeen calendar scrolls yet I cannot escape it.

She fired wary eyes to the reflective glass as the door to her small bedroom creaked open.

Rafe stuck his head inside.

She raised a brow.

You’re home.

May I come in?

But of course, but I must demand you keep your distance.

Sheepishly, he entered.

She watched the mirror, her back to him, so tall and handsome. Just like father.

I thought you were out seeking nourishment?

He licked at his thick lips, silent.

She cocked her head.

Is the city locked down?

Silence.

She found the brush at her feet, and in one sweeping motion picked it up and stroked at her hair. She noticed his smoldering eyes reflected in the mirror which were all but begging.

He took a step forward, floorboards creaking.

That’s close enough Rafe, she warned.

He dropped his head, torrents of dark hair concealing his face. I’m starving.

That’s obvious, she snarled, I can smell you, but why?

He raised his head, the flickering lamp reflected in his dark eyes. Patrols are heavy tonight, he replied, stoically.

Silent, she resumed brushing as a rogue lock escaped her grasp to caress her exposed cleavage. She locked her eyes on his reflection as he narrowed his own into thin slits and she wondered if he could see her at all. She ignored his behavior and brushed at her hair.

You are beautiful.

Stay back, she scowled, trying to avoid conflict but unable to disguise the obvious hostility. What the hell’s going on with you Rafe, and why are you back with hungry eyes?

It would appear our King has been pressured by the citizens to control the killings.

Did you try brother…surely some of the innocents out there are careless.

Of course, I did and I was very close to feeding. He closed his eyes as if savoring the moment and she wondered if he was viewing his data banks.

She was a perfect specimen Blaine, one even you would have loved.

Hmm, I do find comfort in females as much if not more than males, she mused softly. So, what happened?

I was poised and ready to strike but just as I was about to rob her soul, it was foiled by her husband’s untimely arrival.

Pity, she muttered, her eyes locked on his reflection.

Yes, it was, he said as he took another step forward.

Keep you distance brother, I can smell your pheromones.

Then end my misery.

No! She snapped And if you take one more step I will have no choice but to hurt, you.

She watched his chiseled face, the slant of his masculine jaw, just like their father…dangerously handsome. Relieved, she saw him take a step back.

I will not violate your space Blaine, but you know I cannot control the release. You’re beautiful and your body is enchanting. I dare say sister that I live for the day you allow me the privilege of mating and even more the honor you will bestow upon me when you take my life.

Blaine ignored his remarks, the same ones she had ignored since he was twelve years old. She recalled a distant night from her youth; a night in which she woke to find Rafe upon her, fangs bared, attempting the Scaf mating ritual. She flung him from her body to slam into the wall and it was just in the nick of time for had she inhaled his pheromones, she would have copulated, killed him and ate his remains. She recalled their mother’s face as she rushed in with a look of absolute terror only to find that Rafe’s arm was broken and dangling; his face a bloody reminder of the sheer power of a ravager.

You are troubled sister, I can smell your fear for it still lingers in the air. Have you been re-living your stored memories?

Blaine stroked her hair in silence, the vison gone.

Well…have you?

Forced to the moment, she blurted. Yes, I…I go there to see the face of our father.

So, his life still haunts you?

He does, for my memories of him are vague, but to be honest, it is his disappearance I find troubling.

I’m afraid I can’t help you with that dilemma sister. I was not bitten by the Orpher and thus, I have no memories of my father, our ancestors or the Orpher. I have always thought you to be the lucky one, blessed by the Orpher’s bite, but perhaps I was wrong. Maybe it was a curse.

Blaine stood up and smoothed her dress which was as dark as her coruscating locks.

Rafe scanned her with hungry eyes, her astounding beauty not only ravaging his Scaf mentality but robbing him of good judgement.

You are magnificent sister. I actually envy the meal you take, the comfort he or she offers unto you.

Blaine turned to face him, his body towering over her. They shared a look and as his scent settled upon her she fought the urge to strike, rid herself of his presence.

Go and feed Rafe. Your need is pushing you into danger.

But you are so beautiful.

I shall not offer myself unto you so go and find comfort in the blood.

Rafe smiled although it was weak at best and if he accepted defeat, it didn’t show in his eyes as he traced the curves of her body. As you wish, he whispered with sizzling eyes on her exposed cleavage. He licked at his lips.

You’re shuddering Rafe. Not good and it is now obvious that you have let the need build so thick within you that I can no longer tolerate your presence. Now get out before I forget you’re my brother! She pointed to the door. Go feed!

As you wish Blaine, and I won’t deny that I am starving, it’s been days. Forgive me, he whispered as he found the door, trembling. He paused. Will you be here the remainder of the night to watch over mother?

Yes. I can stall my own needs, now go while you still can. My anger is mounting, she hissed as she turned her back to him, her eyes fluctuating between yellow and green with a frosted appearance.

Rafe grabbed her arm from behind and spun her around. You know what we must do sister. It is inevitable. The time draws near and you must allow me to drone you, produce a child. If we do not reproduce for our race we will die!

Blaine glared at him, the white of her eyes turning black as the frosty yellow turned red, the smell of pheromones wafting. She growled under her breath and with rapid hostility shoved him with such force that his body flew through the air and slammed into the wall.

Rafe slid to the floor in a heap. Stunned, he just sat there for the longest while. Finally, he stood up and raised a hand to touch the back of his head and when he lowered it, blood glistened.

Blaine hissed, the scent of blood stimulating dormant desire. She turned her head to the side, an arm shielding her glaucous eyes as fangs inched from her upper lip.

Rafe surveyed the cracked logs and then his eyes found the mud chinking littering the floor. He shook his head, his eyes locked on her face and inched backward, fearful of her next move.

I have told you brother and now I tell you again. If I am unable to spawn a child from my feedings I will allow you to drone, but not now, she hissed, with tight brows and a forked tongue flickering. Seeing his fear, which was measurable, she closed her eyes and forced herself to assume human form. She backed up to the mirror, seeking distance from his scent.

The fight in her eyes faded. I don’t want to lose you, she whispered in a barely audible tone. Once we mate, her voice wavered, once the child is conceived your life is over. You know I must eat you, the pheromones will give me no choice. She raised a hand to push a lock behind her ear. There has got to be another way. I can’t lose you, I’ll be all alone.

Rafe wiped a trickle of blood relieved to see her demeanor soften.

You will not lose me, sister, I will dwell in your data banks, and our child will warm your heart. You won’t be alone.

She shook her head as if to brush his words away.

He inched toward the door, then paused. It is my destiny and somehow, someway, you must face it. I am drone.

Go! She scoffed bitterly. Get out my sight before I lose my patience.

~~~

Blaine, nestled upon a pine frame chair with a deer skin seat, sat in front of a stone hearth watching steam rise from the black iron kettle suspended over the flames. She breathed a sigh of relief that Rafe had left. Slowly, as her tension lessened, her disorganized mind wandered as painful memories of growing up without a father flooded her mind. She pushed a loose lock behind one ear. Now she would soon face this life without a mother for surely her health was deteriorating and if Rafe had his way, a brother as well.

All alone.

She raised a hand and coursed her hair.

There must be others. Rafe and I cannot be the only two of our kind. So many questions, so few answers. What happened to you father? Where did you go? Why would you abandon us?

She rose to her feet and with a quilted hot pad in hand, removed a steaming, cast iron kettle from the hearth.

If only mother could talk…oh well. I suppose I will never know the truth.

Down the hallway, arms ladened with linen cloth, an odorous bar of lye soap and a pot of steaming water in her hand she nudged the bedroom door with her shoulder. She glanced at her mother as she sat the water bowl on the bedside table, the right side of her face drooped and lifeless. She pulled back the covers and removed her soiled gown.

Gessa gurgled strange noises from her half open lips, one eye open and locked on Blaine’s face.

Blaine met her stare. I must get you cleaned up mother, then I have some nice warm porridge to comfort you.

Gessa gurgled incoherently as Blaine removed her garments and gently bathed her paralyzed limbs. She glanced into her one open eye.

Mother. Do you think my father is alive?

Gessa shook her head side to side, the smell of urine and feces wafting. A lone tear streaked her cheek. She gurgled, bubbling sounds emitting from her throat as drool ran down the side of her face.

Do you think the Orpher killed him?

Gessa just stared with one bloodshot eye.

Mother, help me understand. Did father do something wrong? Did he fall from grace with the Scaf or is it possible that he died in the final conflict outside of Uldrame. Rafe and I learned of the battle in school, it was rumored thousands of Scaf were killed. Did he abandon us to join that battle, is it possible mother?

Gessa nodded her head up and down, tears welling.

Worthless, all of them, Vadarcs and Kytes, even humans, Blaine whispered under her breath.

Gessa gurgled with guttural sounds, drool spilling.

Blaine dabbed at her chin. Someday, they’ll all pay, she said as she lifted Gessa’s body with ease and slipped the clean gown over her head. She smoothed the fresh clean linens and fluffed her pillow. She bibbed her and then spoon fed the warm porridge, wiping as it drooled from her mouth. She finished up and dimmed the bedside lamp. She gathered the soiled linens and headed for the door. She paused and glanced back.

Mother, I know you loved him and he loved you, as evidenced by my data banks. You were extolled in his eyes, the only human female in all of Orian that he would not have killed. I am happy, Queen mother, that you loved him and that brings me great comfort. My only regret is that I never had the opportunity.

~~~

Rafe wandered the dark, empty streets torn between a painful hunger and immense feelings not only about his sister, but a growing desire to leave Kalette and search Orian for a Scaf Queen.

Should I go, surely there must be others. Blaine and I cannot be the only ones.

He caught the scent of four guards coming toward him in the darkness.

Morphed into undulating lines of near invisibility he merged in the shadows. The guards, completely unware, walked within inches, so close that he could have reached out to touch their polished, silver armor.

Once more alone, he assumed human form and driven by primal need, set his stride with long muscled legs bound tight in leather leggings for the slums, the place that never slept. He wondered of the hour as the bartender occupied him. He pulled on his data banks and with one glance into her seductive eyes his body turned rock hard. He quickened his pace, hopeful that she had not left. She said midnight and a cursory glance to the moon which was suggestive of the hour infused him with hope.

Rounding a corner, the smell of booze and pipe weed wafting, he paused, his heart pounding. He merged into shadows as the bartender and two of the whores he had witnessed earlier, exited the tavern.

The bartender, with a black cape that bounced on her back, locked the door and then with giggles and the two whores manning pistols, they took to the cobblestone streets, headed for the housing district.

He morphed to invisibility and took chase, careful not to get too close as he followed behind with eyes locked on the bartender. He took in her scent, hungry eyes scanning the curves of her body, the sound of her laughter penetrating his mind. He gazed deep within, examining her skeletal frame and organs. He watched, mesmerized as blood surged her veins with rhythmic fluidity, finding her heart which quivered with expulsive valves, clicking. He sucked in air, his heart pounding as the pain of need and fiery desire engulfed him.

The trio stopped outside a small cabin. The bartender hugged the other females and waved as they headed up the dark empty street. She fumbled with the lock, then opened the cabin door and went inside.

Rafe heard the lock bar slide across the inside frame. He moved in the darkness around to the back of the one room cabin. He peered through the partially open ventilation window as the lustful bartender lit a lamp on the bedside table. She stirred the last of the red-hot coals with an iron poker, then leaned it upon the hearth. She added two logs, then removed her cape and tossed it atop a cane-back chair.

Rafe scanned the room, relieved to see she was alone. He watched her as she plopped down across the bed, staring at the growing fire. He eased the window up, ever so slowly and crawled inside amazed that she never flinched. He took a step toward the bed, lost in the curves of her body. The fire popped and the pain in his chest intensified for his hunger was supreme. He licked his lips and with predatory instinct, anticipated the kill.

He took another step and the floorboards creaked under his weight.

She sat up, sable brown eyes scanning the room and the slight surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins was more than he could take. He morphed from shadow, his body blurred as he flashed across the small room. He grabbed her, his hand muffling a scream as he covered her mouth, pushing her back with powerful arms across the bed.

From nowhere, she slashed his arm with what looked like a filed down half dagger, obviously hidden in her black skirt. He instinctively jumped back, rather shocked for this had never happened before. He gripped his arm as she dove for the iron poker beside the hearth. He rushed her but she swung with the blade inches from his face.

Now begot by fury, the chase playing in his mind, he morphed and as he disappeared the shock in her eyes was riveting. Paralyzed by fear, she backed to the bed, blade in one hand, the poker in the other. His heart was pounding and his desire like none he had ever experienced was exuberating for most victims just scream or beg, offering anything to avert the inevitable, but not this one. She was a fighter which would make the prize all the more enticing.

She swung at him and he dodged the poker, backing to the hearth.

How can she see me?

He glanced to the floor, the truth self-evident. Blood, escaping his body was no longer morphed. She could see the drips on the plank floors. He gripped his arm to abate the bleeding.

Get out of my home, you bastard! She bellowed.

He cocked his head and as her heart stampeded in terror and the swoosh of her blood which smelled like sweet nectar intensified, he staggered, game over, he wanted her and he wanted her now, for this formidable foe, as beautiful as any human could be, would bring as much if not more pleasure than all the others before. He picked up a cup from the table and tossed it past the bed. She spun in that direction and he lunged knocking her amid a flurry of kicking and squealing upon the bed. The poker fell and she rolled over slicing at him with the blade. He morphed to visibility, his eyes changing to pools of liquid tar as fangs inched his upper lip. He wrestled the blade from her and tossed it into the hearth, then clasped a hand over her mouth to quiet her screams. He leaned down to her face and their eyes locked and in that moment, she struggled for her life as the terror in her eyes turned to horror. She beat him mercilessly with her fist, muffled sounds escaping her throat. He instinctively forced his breath upon her face, thick musty pheromones penetrating her skin. Straddled atop her writhing body, he flicked his tongue and licked her cheek, the taste so beguiling that he could wait no longer. He pulled back, her eyes as wide as saucers and the horror he witnessed as he penetrated her dilated pupils to gaze upon her unprotected soul was truly climatic. His lips trembled as he opened his mouth and then in one swift motion he sank his fangs into her neck, blood spraying against the back of his throat as he pinned her struggling body beneath him. Stamina surged, exploding in his brain and throughout his body, thousands of hungry Scaf vessels instantly absorbed the warm nourishment. He focused on her heart beat as it slowed from blood loss. He felt her body go limp, her breathing erratic. He withdrew his fangs and gently stroked her cheek, lost in her beauty. He nuzzled his nose into her hair, the strong smell of brew filling his nostrils. He stood up and loosened his belt, his body throbbing with desire, the same desire that always followed feeding and he could only assume it was that small part of him that was human, but truth be known, he hated it and although he had tried desperately to avoid sexuality with a lesser being, it was futile. He unbuttoned his shirt, muscles rippling in the firelight as he anticipated her inner warmth. He savagely ripped her skirt from her body, surprised she had no lower undergarment, only the black lacy camisole that hugged her milky white breast. He ripped it away and considered saving it as a token, but distracted by the feel of her skin beneath his fingertips, decided not and instead, ran his slithering forked tongue up her abdomen across her chest to her chin. Tiny streaks of blood inched from the bite marks on her neck. He licked the blood, his eyes closed savoring the taste. He pressed his body to hers, slowly merging as explosions ripped his mind, data banks absorbing every detail, every pleasure of his skin…his body. He kissed her passionately, a feverish intensity blasting his mind, muscles rippling, shadows from the hearth silhouetting her face. He drove himself home, so warm and inviting, corded muscle thrusting unto hot fluidity. He basked in her inner fire as sensations of unparalleled ecstasy intensified. Suddenly his mind flashed unto lights, his body covering her with fiery, liquid movement as he merged deeper and deeper, waves washing over him as he bit into her neck draining the last drops of her life.

He clung to her now lifeless body, kissing her gently, caressing her skin as the sensations of his body ebbed. He bounced to his feet and closed his eyes, pulling on the data banks, reliving each moment. Beside the hearth, he dressed himself unable to pull his eyes from her face. He walked over to the bed and gently kissed her partially open lips, his body trembling as the data bank replayed the event over and over again.

Thank you, he said softly as he gently stroked her cold cheek. I will keep you in my data banks forever, your sacrifice was magnificent. He bowed to her, kissed her lips one last time and headed for the window.

Outside the cabin, which would live in his memory forever, he closed the window as satisfied as one can imagine, but he knew it would not last. Soon the drive would return and although he could relive the data banks where the bartender’s soul, like that of so many others existed, it wouldn’t be enough. He sighed as the howl of a lone wolf penetrated the night. He set out for the streets a smile on his lips and her taste lingered. It suddenly dawned on him that although his pheromones had no effect upon humans, he couldn’t control the release; it was primal in nature. He gazed up at the endless stars scattered across the dark night sky. Blaine flashed in his mind as his heart beat quickened.

My pheromones may be useless on these lesser beings, but they will certainly work on you, force you to mate, force you to complete my cycle of life. Oh, to be eaten alive…to know that my body will nourish our unborn child.

He glanced up at the moon hanging over the city, data banks firing within his mind.

I will fulfill my destiny Blaine. One day soon, I will drone you.

He wandered the dark streets completely satisfied but as he neared their meager cabin he noticed the partially open door with light flooding the rickety steps. He made haste and just inside the door, saw a Medic in the narrow hallway. The medic nodded at him then just shy of the door, turned to Blaine whose small frame was hidden behind him.

It was a clot and I suspect it lodged in her brain. She died quickly, she didn’t suffer.

Blaine dropped her head.

Rafe felt a strange sensation as he listened to the medic’s voice which sounded distant.

Young lady, your door was open when I arrived. That’s reckless. There is a monster out there somewhere, stalking and killing our citizens. No one is safe. Be careful, he said as he turned to take his leave.

Thank you for your service, she muttered incoherently.

Rafe pushed his way past her and stormed the hallway. Just past the jamb he stepped into the bedroom. He froze, his eyes on what was surely his mother, covered with a blanket. He took in air, the smell of death wafting and the emotions that followed were confusing. He cocked his head and inhaled, exponentially holding his breath. Part of him felt nothing, yet something deep inside spurred his heartbeat to increase as a pain, never before experienced occupied his chest. He glanced down and noticed his fingers trembling. He sensed Blaine’s presence and as if on cue, felt her gently touch his arm.

She quickly made her way to the side of the bed and dropped to her knees. Rafe moved to the opposite side and found the floor, caught in a myriad of emotions.

We are alone now brother, Blaine whispered, her voice barely audible. Our father, our mother and even our mother’s sister are all gone. This reinforces my decision Rafe. You cannot drone me. I do not want to be alone in this world.

You would not be alone sister, Rafe retorted stoically. You would have our child and hopefully that child would be able to do what you and I cannot; mate with a human.

Rafe ripped the blanket away, gazing upon Gessa’s pale face, frozen in death. He raised himself and kissed her cheek, then dropped back to his knees, his head bowed in reverence.

Finally, after suffering a heartbeat which occupied his temples, he cast his eyes across the bed to Blaine. They shared a tether with data banks firing, and in perfect harmony, they chanted.

We honor you Queen mother. Giver of life.

Chapter 2

The twin moons of Zentha which were as grandiose as all their predecessors combined, hung like orange orbs adorned with silver halos illuminating the village of New Hope.

Audra, gazing out the kitchen window of their log home beheld the beauty which brought to mind a moonlight encounter in the meadows outside Uldrame shortly after Vlad was born. A smile played upon her lips as she envisioned herself and Mardrid, entangled upon a blanket their bodies bathed in platinum tranquility. That was the very night she first learned that Jenna and Draxx were in love. She raised a hand to touch her face.

Where did the time go?

From the dining room, the sound of voices, in particular Draekkar’s laughter, snatched her from reverie. She removed the soot covered black kettle suspended over the hearth’s flames, covered it with a cast iron lid then wiped at hands with her apron. A family gathering with intent to discuss the homeland. Her thoughts quickly flashed to Bekka, Ardun, Morgana and Randar.

She sighed.

Seventeen calendar scrolls since the day we left you seeking refuge in Zentha.

She raised a hand to her brow.

How happy we all felt to be finally free. Life was as good as it gets, that is…until the secrets of this new world began to unfold.

She pushed a stray lock from her brow.

I suppose everything in life has its price.

She hurried back to the dining room to help Jenna and Nicole clear the dinner dishes from the magnificent pine table. She loved that table, so well crafted, honed and polished to a golden luster. Mardrid crafted it that first year, while Vlad was but a baby, just before she suffered the miscarriage. The painful memories returned, a baby girl lost…a love that would never warm her heart.

Sins of the fathers?

She bit at her lip as Jenna and Nicole’s words of solace returned.

"Don’t worry, there will be lots of babies."

She gathered the plates, her mind adrift. Mardrid’s voice drew her attention as he spoke of the orchard which was his pride and joy. She stared into his face as young and critically handsome as the day she met him. She walked to the kitchen and set the last of the dinner plates on the counter, moonlight spilling past the curtains. She gently touched her aging cheek. She glanced back at the table and scanned the faces, age had certainly found them all, evidenced by lines and graying hair, well…everyone except Mardrid. Insecurity flooded her heart and a quick glance to Vlad forced a shudder for in appearance he and his father were the same age.

She waved off her thoughts and with a forced smile, took her seat at the table beside Mardrid.

Draekkar sat his stein down and flashed his eyes upon his son, his heart swelling with pride. He had matured into a hulking Vadarc, broad in the shoulders with dark torrents of hair that perfectly matched his shimmering eyes. He eyed him, reminded of Gardoth and in that moment a bit of sadness washed over his soul for his grandfather was surely dead by now, and he, as well as his own son had missed those final days and his passage to the afterlife. Nicole, who was laughing with Jenna drew him from despair. He watched her with a bounding love that seemed to intensify daily. A smile played upon his lips. She was happy and that was worth it all.

Akkar! He roared with a loud robust voice that silenced the room. Your homemade brew is excellent my son.

Thank you, father, Akkar smiled as he turned up his mug and sipped. He wiped the foam from his upper lip, his ivory tusks glistening. I must admit it’s very good, but I don’t deserve all the credit. Zanara helped and the last of the hops she added gave it a wonderful flavor.

Draxx, with Jenna at his side, ran his hands through his platinum hair, brushing it behind his ivory horns as he fired his loving eyes to Zanara. A smile, which all but filled his face, emphasized crow’s feet on both corners of his eyes but before he could speak, Jenna leaned forward. We’re proud of you sweetie.

You took the words right out of my mouth, Draxx chuckled as laughter echoed through the room. My daughter the brew master, he laughed as he turned up his stein.

Zanara smiled timidly and with a rosy blush all but concealed by waves of platinum hair framing her delicate face, and fluttered thick dark lashes that adorned her icy blue eyes.

It was just an experiment, she answered timidly. Thankfully it worked out well. She glanced down the table at Akkar. He winked and she flashed him a smile but as she averted her gaze to Vlad hoping to find approval, she instead found a vulgar, piercing stare which all but undressed her. A cold, sinking disquiet washed over her and she peeled herself from his eyes and dropped her head. Chill bumps embellished her skin.

You did good Zanara, Nicole said. It has a wonderful taste and I don’t even care for brew.

Thank you, Zanara mused with a forced smile.

The room grew quiet…perhaps a bit too quiet.

Finally, Mardrid glanced at Audra as if seeking strength for what was to come. He stood up. I believe you all know why I requested this meeting tonight.

He swallowed hard.

We have reached a critical time in our lives here on Zentha. Although our crops are plentiful, we will soon have to leave this hidden land. Our chickens are now all gone as well as the goats and pigs. The colts born after we arrived are now getting old. If we intend to leave we must do it soon or else, we will be on foot. The deer and squirrels are nearly depleted. Zentha is a beautiful haven, a paradise in its own right and we all love it here, but we must face the fact that its barren. No animal, human or humanoid can reproduce here.

Silence with the fluted sound of crickets echoing the open front door.

I can’t help but wonder how many people would be sitting here tonight if we could have gotten pregnant, Jenna remarked, shattering the silence. Don’t get me wrong, I am grateful for my daughter but it still leaves me wondering how many children I would have had if we had not lived on Zentha.

As much as I hate to say it, I think we should all leave and make a new life somewhere else, Draekkar remarked. It’s been many years and it is possible that the fears that drove us here could well be gone.

"Well why don’t we start with you telling us what those fears were my father?" Akkar spouted.

Silence.

Father, it is time for the truth, he blurted, we’re not children anymore, and we deserve to know what’s out there.

Draekkar dropped his head.

Father, Akkar protested, don’t ignore me. I have heard your whispers when you think I am not around, talk of this other continent. Why so secretive, he asked with raised brows, are we fugitives?

Draekkar shook his head then glanced at Mardrid. He’s right. They’re adults and they deserve the truth.

Mardrid turned to Audra. She nodded approval. Mardrid took a deep breath and glanced down the table, every eye fixed on his face.

Okay, where to begin. Hmm, let’s start with the Scaf. They once lived in a distant land and for reasons unknown a throng of ravagers, drones, an Orpher and a Queen were somehow transported to a foreign island. I was in that group and when we began to explore the new world we discovered a large contingent of Humans, Vadarcs, Vaetters and Stouts. We also discovered islands inhabited by Kytes. The Scaf King known as the Orpher, ordered war on all races, determined to reign supreme over all blood species. Soon thereafter, a tiny race of people called Nimets were discovered on another continent which was actually Audra’s homeland. Unbeknownst to Scaf who saw them as easy prey, Nimets possessed chemicals in their blood which were highly toxic to Scaf anatomy. Our Queen, the only means of reproduction, for the original Scaf race was entirely male, died after eating Nimet flesh. We were devastated, but with her dying breaths, the Queen informed the Orpher of rare human females whom she had fed on that possessed a red glow making it possible for Scaf and humans to mate. The Orpher, who was hopeful that a new Queen would be sired of this Scaf and Human union, ordered the breakup of male to male couples. He sent ravagers in to the world posing as humans in order to seek out and impregnate these rare females. That’s how I met Audra.

She has this glow? Akkar asked. I can’t see it?

She does Akkar, but only Scaf can visualize it.

What is it?

Hmm, just a hereditary link passed to her from her mother.

But Kytes don’t have this…do they?

They may although none were found.

Well that’s good…for Kytes I mean, Zanara pipped.

Mardrid tossed his locks.

Well Kytes do play a big role in all this.

I was afraid of that, Zanara admonished.

You see, while the Scaf were attacking this continent, the Kytes sailed to our island home and killed all of the Queen’s last hatchlings in retribution for the attack on their homeland.

Is that true father? She queried with a glance.

Yes, I was engaged to a young Kyte princess. She was killed by them, as were many of the Kyte citizens. So, the Kytes, in retribution, killed off the Scaf hatchlings not knowing that a Scaf army would then come for us.

What happened? Zanara asked.

My father formed an alliance with the Vadarcs and Humans on the home continent to fight the last battle of the Scaf. They won and the Scaf were destroyed but the world was almost wiped clean of all races.

Mardrid interrupted. That’s when your father met your mother and they fell in love. Jenna got pregnant with you, Zanara which is not allowed under Kyte law. King Yassik, who is your grandfather declared Jenna was to be killed and Draxx was to bring you back, marry a Kyte princess and ascend the throne.

That can’t be true…is it father? Zanara asked with pleading eyes.

I’m afraid it is. My love for a human excited the most bitter hatred imaginable.

And he would have killed my mother?

I’m afraid so.

How horrible, Zanara gushed with a hand to her mouth.

And that is exactly why your mother and I moved here, to escape his wrath.

And why did you and my Queen mother join them? Vlad asked staunchly.

Fear, Audra interrupted.

Fear, of what?

Mardrid flashed a look and they shared a deadlock. After the Scaf war, the citizens were terrified of me. They knew I was Scaf. They didn’t want us living among them and I feared they would harm you or your mother who was pregnant. We heard of this continent and decided to escape. Draekkar and Nicole came with us because Jenna and Nicole being sisters, didn’t want to be separated.

And what happened to your other child? Vlad asked as he tossed his ebony locks to his back and fired a look to Audra.

She dropped her head. I had a miscarriage shortly after we arrived, she replied with stolid eyes fixated on the table.

Silence.

Mardrid slid his hand to Audra’s and gripped it firmly.

And what of your people father? Are the Vadarcs a large and powerful race on the other continent? Akkar asked.

Yes, Draekkar smiled with pride. The history of the Vadarcs goes back to the beginning of time. They were once slaves to humans until the Vadarc revolution. Then the Vadarc turned the tables and established a nation, powerful in its own right ruled by my father’s historical blood lines. My grandfather Gardoth was a powerful ruler and stole a young human princess who was betrothed to King Luther, ruler of the largest human kingdom in all of Orian. Luther was angry when Gardoth captured and married his bride to be, but Gardoth didn’t care. He loved her. Her name is Annafaleece, although we call her Anna. They had two sons, Aldron and Randar who is my father. That marriage set off years of war between the Vadarcs and humans. My mother Bekka is also human and actually came to this world by some sort of magical transport.

Magic?

Yes. She was to wed a human prince named Vallas who was King Luther’s son, but she was captured by Vadarcs and my father bought her on the auction block. He quickly realized she had awakened him and he imprinted her. Vallas waged war on the Vadarcs and forced my mother to come back to him. They were wed even though she was pregnant with me. Vallas hated me when I was born and it caused great strife between him and my mother. Audra is my half-sister, born of that relationship between Vallas and my mother. Anyway, war broke out and my uncle Aldron was killed. My father eventually rescued me and my mother.

And what of Audra’s father?

Vallas was exiled from the land but before he fled this continent, he abducted Audra who was a newborn.

Vlad leaned upon the table across from Audra. My grandfather, which I have never heard of until now, abducted you?

Yes, she whispered.

Mardrid tightened his grip on her hand and met Vlad’s gaze.

It was not to harm her Vlad, he planned to raise her with Mardetta who was a Queen from another region but unfortunately, that relationship soured and Vallas was forced to flee in order to save his life. Audra was ultimately raised by Mardetta with no knowledge that this woman was not her mother.

You were not raised by your Queen mother? Vlad asked with narrowed eyes.

No, Audra sighed, "but I did meet her years later