Thane Tebbet Theus and the Chasing Dreams: A Family Legacy, #4

By Iuliana Foos

Some dreams reflect reality, others, our deepest fears.

 

Fate, miscommunication, and love separates them and reunites them when lives are in danger.

 

On his twenty-third birthday, an undesired meeting with his nemesis, leads Thane to discover the girl with lavender eyes chasing his dreams for the past seventeen years—Layla. She not only brings him more power than he could ever use, but she is the one breathing life into his existence.

 

Layla, kidnapped as a child from her biological parents, is adopted and raised by a family of bounty hunters. Years later, with the deaths of her new family, she is sold and resold into slavery. Images of a man with silver hair and golden eyes follow her in never-ending nightmares. But when reality proves that the man from her dreams is in fact the man of her dreams, fear is quickly replaced by trust and something more.

 

Miscommunication settles between Thane and Layla, forcing their paths to split once again. How much will both be willing to sacrifice to save each other when old enemies wield the threat of death back into their lives? Nothing or Everything?

 

**This is a sweet, closed door romance for ages 14+.

• Language: English
• Publisher: DLG Publishing Partners
• Release date: Jul 21, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201480264

Book preview

Chapter 1

Thane

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Thane stepped through the portal into the stronghold belonging to his nemesis, Lady Pherelle Dunt.

Anger guided him toward the idyllic white painted house hugged by green, climbing vines. Multicolored flowers arranged in long strips, animated the dark brown dirt at the edge of the jungle with false promise. It was only a façade, meant to hide the monster living inside.

A wave of energy took his breath away and made everything spin around, forcing him to stop after only a couple of steps.

What in the stars?

Particles of energy gathered and exploded inside him.

Thane massaged his temple with a gloved hand, searching for the source of the unexpected well of power. It couldn’t have been from Pherelle’s presence, he knew her too well—more than he cared to.

Slaves ran about focused on their jobs, wearing nothing more than rags for clothes, and Thane let invisible tendrils taste the surrounding air.

None of the sad, resigned faces were responsible for the sudden surge—only for his increased fury.

Slavery, a common practice in his world and others, disgusted him. Thane hated the idea of oppression ever since he was a kid.

The closer he advanced toward the house, the power in the energy scaled. A loud buzzing filled his ears, forcing him to stop again. The air thickened, goosebumps covering his skin.

With a deep breath, Thane let the energy flow through. It empowered him beyond anything he’d ever experienced before.

I wish my father was here, so I could talk to him about this. He always had all the answers. One year has passed without them, he thought—his parents, murdered at the hands of a delusional tyrant.

Thane and the rest of the family had faced the painful loss together. Now, a little over fourteen-months since their deaths, he has returned to his home on Simran, for a short vacation.

It was after all his birthday, and what better place to celebrate than the home he and his sister, Adanya, had been born in.

But as always, something or someone managed to ruin the little joy breaking through the sea of sorrow.

A slave welcomed him with the wave of a hand. This way, My Lord. The older woman, with creases marking her face, bowed, gesturing toward a set of double doors.

Pherelle’s presence grew, and the wave of energy lessened.

It must’ve been something outside. In here, it isn’t so bad, or I’m getting used to it.

A few more steps, and Thane stormed through the doors the scared slave opened before him. A bad feeling twisted in his gut.

Silver sparks lingered on his fingertips from the energy overload.

The decorated interior sent chills along his spine. Too many tassels, ruffles, and gold accents made the room stiff and stuffy, like an antique museum.

Tasteless. Thane shrugged, staring at the woman before him.

Pherelle. Whatever game you’re playing, it’s not working.

Thane threw the long box containing the gift she’d sent him on top of the ornate rug covering the wooden floors. The lid opened, and the ceremonial dagger rolled out of its black velvet cushion.

The tall, willowy brunette faced him, her eyes rounded with pretend surprise, despite the fact he’d announced his visit the moment he received the unwanted gift.

She’d traded the academy black uniform for a provocative ruby-colored dress, tight to her body, with a neckline plunging almost to her waist. High slits let long, muscular legs peek through.

Oh, Lord Thane Tebbet-Theus. She bowed her head slightly. You are here, aren’t you? A grin parted her red lips.

So, she wanted me to come over, it was her plan all along. She still wears so much makeup it looks like a damn mask.

Seeing her for the first time in five years, brought back memories he wanted gone. The day of his test for advanced lordship rank into the Academy of Dark Arts flashed in his mind.

Only to return your gift. Thane shook away the past, focusing on the present.

The manipulative, sneaky woman had never done anything without a motive.

Pherelle’s gaze lowered to the precious gems encrusted in the hilt of the ceremonial dagger. It’s your birthday. I thought you would like the gift. She lifted her head with a glinting dare.

I don’t want anything from you. Thane straightened, aligning his spine, and squaring his shoulders.

That hurts my feelings. Another smile parted her lips without reaching her cold, dark eyes.

Good. You almost got me killed in those catacombs. Thane crossed his arms over a puffed-out chest.

In his mind, more images merged from the darkest corners.

At only eighteen back then, Thane was used to the extra attention from the girls his age. But when Pherelle, an assistant for the head of the academy, fifteen years older than him, lured him off track during the test, he considered it a personal conquest.

I was young and stupid.

Cold shivers coursed his body, the same way they did five years ago. Distracted and unexperienced, the dark seductress tied him to one of the columns in the underground temple. Beasts sniffed him, closing in as soon as she walked away laughing.

Yet, you came out stronger and more powerful than anyone I know. Pherelle closed a hand on his arm.

The touch yanked him back to reality.

No thanks to you. Thane uncrossed his arms freeing himself from her hold.

You sure know how to keep a grudge. Her voice sweetened, as if dipped in honey, the hint of poison mixed in, ringing all the alarm bells in his mind. I hoped we could at least be friends in these hard times.

She strolled toward the low table, swaying her hips with exaggerated moves.

Right. Revolt drove his tone upwards. Because that’s what normal people do, become best friends with the crazies who tried to kill them.

More sparkles tingled his fingertips. Thane wished he could strike the woman before him. But he was better than that and refused to give into revenge and fury. Instead, he inhaled a gulp of air.

Look, I’m willing to put the past behind us. Pherelle offered him a cup of tea. Your report after finishing the test cost me my job.

Thane refused the tea with a shake of his head. Aren’t you nice to do so? His fists clenched at his sides. Your job versus my life is hardly an equitable exchange.

Pherelle waved a dismissive hand. This tea is cold. Sava. She called, turning to the door which opened almost immediately. How many times do I need to tell you, tea is supposed to be hot?

Please forgive me, My Lady. The slave hurried to pick up the tray. I’ll bring you a fresh one.

The fear rising from the older woman only added to his dislike for the mistress. Thane hated to see slaves treated unfairly. Even if his father had bought slaves at regular intervals of time, his mother freed them, hiring the ones who wanted to stay as servants.

Black sparks left from Pherelle’s fingertips and struck the slave carrying away the cold beverage.

A screeching yelp left the other woman’s lips, as if crying for help.

There is no need for your cruelty. Thane felt bad for the poor woman running out of the room.

Lazy, good for nothing slaves deserve a little nudge. She admired her long, black fingernails. Not to mention the ones who try to defy me.

Thane shook his head in disbelief. You’re a sorry excuse for a human. Her ruthless reputation wasn’t a secret, and neither was her unquenchable thirst for power. I hope to never see you again. He turned toward the door.

I have a proposition for you. Pherelle’s words reached him before taking a step.

Not interested. Thane sensed a dark energy swirling around him and faced her again.

Black vines of smoke traveled across the room from Pherelle. The shadows coiled around his feet, rising in a tangled web, and rooting him in place.

Join me. She advanced a couple of steps. Together, we can bring back the power and glory our people once held over this galaxy. Help me take down Overlord Xarrix Kreider, and I’ll put the galaxy at your feet. The vines tightened around him.

I don’t like things at my feet. I tend to kick them. Focusing, Thane released some of the stored energy from within, breaking the dark hold.

Black vapors dissolved into the silver light radiating from him.

You really are more powerful than I thought. Genuine surprise covered Pherelle’s makeup-painted face. Don’t let this opportunity pass you.

I will never join you in anything. Thane shook his head. As for the Overlord, he will pay one day for my parents’ deaths, but I won’t start a war.

The day he watched the news broadcast throughout the galaxy with the rest of his family, was still vivid in his mind. Seeing his parents lose the fight, their motionless bodies in the throne room, still hurt deep inside a year later.

His twin sister, Adanya, hadn’t even cried. She’d called dibs on killing Overlord Xarrix Kreider and had thrown herself into training ever since.

We don’t need to start a war. The two of us can take him down. Pherelle sent more of her black vapors toward him.

One hand extended in front of him, Thane let silver threads counter the dark ones, closing around the woman he detested, and levitated her in midair.

I said no. My family will deal with him. Anger spiked, filling each living cell in his body with tension. Stay out of my way.

Even if captured in his immobilizing strings, Pherelle displayed a predatory smile. She resembled one of the beasts that almost tore him to pieces years ago. If he wasn’t a healer, he’d never have survived the ordeal.

You might refuse me, but I bet someone else in your family will see the advantage.

Thane lost all self-control. Fury and desire for retribution clouded his mind. With one sharp move of his hand, he threw Pherelle against the nearest wall.

Silver tendrils coiled around her, and he closed his hand into a fist.

You stay away from me and my family. Thane drew near her, the coils wrapped around her neck.

Let me go. Pherelle twitched but failed to free herself. Through the heavy makeup, redness covered her face from a lack of oxygen.

If you ever contact one of us, you’ll die. His jaws clenched. If you ever do anything against my family, you’ll die. Thane tightened his hold on her, taking pleasure in seeing her suffering. If you ever so much as breathe in my direction—or my family’s—you’ll die. Are we clear?

Pherelle’s fear and defeat tasted bitter-sweet on his tongue.

Unable to speak, she nodded, with widened eyes.

Good. Thane fought the temptation to kill her and be done with the danger she’d become. Rationality won, and he walked away, toward the doors. The day I see you again will be your last.

Releasing Pherelle from his energy hold, Thane stormed out of the room. If the experience from five years ago taught him anything, it was to keep calm and in control of any situation. It was the only reason she was still alive.

The slave rushed with the fresh tea on the tray, and Thane stopped the last moment, avoiding the collision.

I’m so sorry, My Lord. Scared, the woman bowed.

It’s okay. If I were you, I wouldn’t go in there. He pointed over a shoulder toward the closed doors.

Thank you, My Lord, but I have no choice. Head lowered, she continued her way.

The wave of energy he’d felt earlier, escalated again, as soon as he stepped out of the house, like an invisible wall, knocking the air out of his lungs.

What in the stars is going on? I need to get out of here.

Thane dialed his home frequency and opened a portal, stepping into it.

Chapter 2

Layla

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Layla shifted on the hard ground inside the cage. Pebbles dug into her flesh, taking the discomfort to a new level.

I wish they would’ve killed me with my parents and brother. Why do I have to endure this?

Out of tears, she exhaled a tired breath. Another day without food drained her survival instincts. One of the other slaves brought her water, despite the new mistress’ orders.

The older woman, she didn’t know her name, risked her life to keep her breathing.

Commotion outside the dark cage reached her ears.

Layla lifted her head to look through one of the tiny holes in the metal enclosure.

Two guards and her new mistress approached. The woman who bought her a few days ago seemed furious, her purposeful steps raising clouds of dust from the dried dirt around the edges of her long, bright red dress.

Take her out.

A key unlocked the door, and Layla squinted against the sudden light hurting her eyes. Out of instinct, she retreated to the back of the cage.

The day before, when they took her out, Mistress Pherelle used dark energy to punish her. Burns still stung her body beyond the surface of her skin. Wounds caused by energy users persisted, hurting all the way through flesh and bones.

Throughout the last three years, she had a few too many masters who were Dark Knights. They all enjoyed torturing their slaves.

Strong hands tightened around her skinny arms, yanking her from the dark cage, then throwing her to the mistress’ feet.

Are you going to talk today? Long fingers ending in black fingernails gripped her chin, forcing Layla to look up.

Dark eyes, filled with hate and anger, stared at her.

Layla refused to talk since the day her adoptive family was killed in front of her. She hadn’t said a word in almost three years.

What’s your name, slave? Mistress Pherelle tightened her hold on her. The dagger-like fingernails prodded her skin.

Pain had become the norm for Layla. She’d die before she’d talk.

My Lady. The old woman who had showed her kindness dared to speak. Maybe she’s mute? She hasn’t spoken a word to us either.

Mistress Pherelle hit the woman with the back of her hand.

One of the oversized rings glimmering on her fingers, split the lip of the slave trying to reason with her.

I didn’t ask for your opinion. She shot a dark