Transformed

By Janet Whitson

When one's world changes, new paths must be found.

Niar's mate is assassinated and his leadership usurped by Krantos, a powerful enemy whose machinations doom Niar to transform and avenge her mate's death. Niar has a terror of transformation and even if she survives, the child she carries within her—the rightful heir to the Novari throne—will be destroyed. 

Disobedient for the first time in her life, she flees to the mountains. There, while rescuing an enemy tribesman from death, the vial of pheromone she stole to stabilize her pregnancy is broken. Her only chance to save her child is to compel the rescued seed sower to be her close companion, hoping that his pheromone will allow her to carry the child through to birth.

But in the jungles of Javari, dangers abound and it is there that Nair must face her greatest fear, alone.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ormerod House
• Release date: Mar 10, 2022
• ISBN: 9781957628097

Janet Whitson

Janet Whitson is an author, nature-junkie, and believer in Happily Ever After. She loves the classics (Tolkien, Rowling, Lucas, TCM), fishing, outdoor photography, pizza, and collecting quotations. Her goal has always been to live a life she'd enjoy reading about. In pursuit of that she's been a mom, wife, color consultant, scientific researcher, university dean, and romance author among other things. She enjoys using her imagination to create stories of love and romance about women worth knowing and men worth loving... none of whom are perfect. Her characters are fictional, but the love she writes about is real.Janet lives on a lake in the beautiful state of Texas with her wickedly funny husband and their mixed breed dog, Lady.Visit Janet's website at www.janetwhitson.com and sign up for her mailing list!

Book preview

Transformed

When one’s world changes, new paths must be found.

Niar’s mate is assassinated and his leadership usurped by Krantos, a powerful enemy whose machinations doom Niar to transform and avenge her mate’s death. Niar has a terror of transformation and even if she survives, the child she carries within her—the rightful heir to the Novari throne—will be destroyed.

Disobedient for the first time in her life, she flees to the mountains. There, while rescuing an enemy tribesman from death, the vial of pheromone she stole to stabilize her pregnancy is broken. Her only chance to save her child is to compel the rescued seed sower to be her close companion, hoping that his pheromone will allow her to carry the child through to birth.

But in the jungles of Javari, dangers abound and it is there that Nair must face her greatest fear, alone.

Transformed

Janet Whitson

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Ormerod House

Copyright © 2022 by Janet Whitson

All rights reserved.

No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

Ebook ISBN: 978-1-957628-09-7

Paperback ISBN: 978-1-957628-10-3

Contents

1. Talla

2. Krantos

3. Trial

4. Betrayal

5. Choice

6. Escape

7. Flight

8. Jentoa

9. Journey

10. Attack

11. Ambush

12. Birth

13. Zalel

14. Coomarish

15. Dientar

16. Ambush

17. Transformation

18. Return

19. Combat

A word...

The People of Javari

About Janet Whitson

Chapter one

Talla

Screened by thick clusters of lillink leaves, Niar, an adolescent of four circuits growth, stared at her sister’s transformation pod. Talla had entered the green spheroid ten days ago, on the birth date of her sixth circuit.

Six was the age of choice in Niar’s world, where the blue sun was small and distant in the sky, and five of the long Javaren circuits brought a novum to sexual maturity.

As did most of the Novari, Niar’s sister Talla had mated at maturity and given birth. The novum had died, and now Talla had chosen to transform into a seed sower, rather than remain a birth giver.

Niar had been taught, along with all the novum, that transformation changed only the outward appearance, not the spirit within.

The garment is changed to fit the task, but the Novari within remains the same.

So the elders said. But Talla was the first member of her family to transform, and Niar wondered what was happening in the three-chambered sphere where her sister remained, barricaded and outcast from the community until change was complete.

In ten more days, the pod would be opened and Talla’s return as a seed sower would be celebrated with music and dancing.

Niar wished it were over now. She missed Talla. So she and her best friend Dientar were here, where they had no business being, hiding in the bushes and watching the pod holding Niar’s sibling.

The two warriors assigned to guard Talla during transformation stood at ease, talking softly to one another. Long rays of afternoon light slanted into the quiet clearing. Warmth and damp cradled the hidden novum. The air was still and thick with the scent of growth.

After watching the clearing and the guards for some time, Dientar leaned toward Niar and whispered, They are late with Talla’s food and I grow hungry. We should return to the cluster and our dinner.

Every morning and afternoon a healer would bring Talla a tray of fresh food and drink, sliding it through a narrow slot cut near the base of the green pod and removing the previous day’s tray, empty, from the ground below.

Not yet. Yesterday’s tray is not returned. Why would that be so? Do you think Talla’s mind has turned?

Do not worry so, Niar. It probably means she forgot to put the old tray out. But if her mind has turned, that is not a bad thing. It must happen. So we have been taught.

Niar ignored Dientar’s assurance. This she feared most of all—the period during transformation when the mind, tortured by hormone fluxes, became a wild thing, unconfined and uncontrollable.

This period was the reason transformants were sequestered from the community. It was the reason that those rare few who, for unknown reasons, did not fully transform, were killed.

Partials were unreasoning, violent, dangerous, and powerful. That was why guards kept watch outside transformation pods. It was why the food brought to the Novari within contained relaxation-inducing compounds, both to lessen their agony and to reduce the likelihood of premature emergence from the pod.

The danger posed by partial transformation was real. The clearings holding transformation pods were forbidden to novum. This is why Niar and Dientar had been forced to sneak toward the pod from the rear and hid now in lillink bushes at the base of a cardon tree.

The sound of raised voices drifted toward them from the cluster. Niar, Dientar said. We must go back. It grows late, and we have been missed.

Niar heard her friend’s appeal, but her eyes remained focused on the pod in the clearing. Dientar nudged her, but before she could turn, terrified screams and a spine-chilling roar split the humid afternoon air.

Brawdlin. Niar knew the sound. But how had the beast come so near the cluster? Why had the warriors guarding the Novari perimeter not stopped its approach or warned the people?

The beast roared again. Nearer. We must climb, she hissed at Dientar. The two novum grasped the cardon branches above them and rapidly scaled the tree. Its slender branches bore their weight easily, but the massive brawdlin would not be able to follow.

Below them, a thick-muscled beast leapt into the clearing. It was covered in a thick dark-green pelt that absorbed the slanting rays of the afternoon sun, making it a menacing shadow in the waning daylight. It stood easily five feet tall, with a body proportionate to the huge head and its double row of teeth. The guards sent spears whistling toward it and drew their knives. They were too late. The spears hit where the brawdlin had been and the guard directly before it was snatched by the fearsome jaws, shaken, and dropped, dead, at the beast’s feet. With a single swipe of its claws, the brawdlin ripped open the barricaded pod and crouched on all fours, lowering its head to enter.

An insane, mad howl erupted from the pod. Talla emerged before the snarling face of the beast, charging toward it. The enormous head jerked back. Talla scooped up the battle knife from the hand of the fallen warrior and stood, defiant.

With frozen hands, Niar clutched the branches, but her head turned away, not wishing to see her sister die. It took a team of hunters to defeat a brawdlin. Beside her, Dientar gasped.

The insane, violent sound came from Talla’s throat again, and Niar turned to look. The sight transfixed her. Talla was taller, broader than Niar had ever seen her. Her breasts shone with sweat, and her arms and back rippled with muscle.

Her eyes, wild with madness, were those of a stranger. Impossibly fast, she eluded the brawdlin’s attack and threw herself on the