Chains: MM Fantasy Romance

By A. C. Fox

Only love can break this captive's chains.

Valon Argris has lived alone in the crude wasteland fortress for longer than he cares to remember. He watches from the tower for enemy ships or spies, his only goal to keep a hidden seaside colony of escaped slaves safe from the Empire of Rysar. The empire destroyed everything Valon loved and left him scarred and hunted. While he prefers to hide his chilling visage in the isolation of the fortress, he will allow nothing to endanger the runaway slaves who have made the cove their home. But a handsome deserter from Rysar stumbles onto the secret, throwing everything Valon's worked so hard to protect into peril...

After his army is defeated by barbarian invaders, conscripted soldier Keram Rhees flees across the mountains into a desolate volcanic wasteland. But when he reaches the safety of the ocean, his discovery of a colony of escaped slaves provokes the wrath of the colony's guardian—a huge, scarred man named Valon who seems more beast than human. Accused of being a spy for the empire, Keram is dragged in chains to a bleak stone fortress which is little more than a ruin. He soon comes to learn there is more pain inside Valon than rage, more loneliness than ferocity. Keram knows he can help heal the dark, scarred, and brooding guardian. He's seen the desire and longing in the way Valon looks at him. But Valon isn't ready to trust. He knows the runaway soldier is dangerous—if not to the people Valon protects, then certainly to the chains around Valon's heart.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wolf Hill Publishing
• Release date: Aug 19, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201244385

Book preview

Table of Contents

Cover

Table of Contents

Look for these titles from A. C. Fox

Title Page

Copyright Warning

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Epilogue

About the Author

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The Warrior’s Mage (Book Four)

The Gladiator’s Slave (Book Five)

Marked (Book Six)

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Chains

M/M Fantasy Romance

A. C. Fox

Copyright Warning

EBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared, or given away. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is a crime punishable by law. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded to or downloaded from file sharing sites, or distributed in any other way via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000 (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/).

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are fictitious or have been used fictitiously, and are not to be construed as real in any way. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Published By

Wolf Hill Publishing

1643 Warwick Ave., #124

Warwick, RI 02889

Chains

Copyright © 2018 by A. C. Fox

ISBN: 978-1-947135-92-5

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

First Etopia Press electronic publication: July 2018

CHAPTER ONE

The tear tracks on Keram’s face made the black dust cling to his cheeks. Each time he smeared the ash away with his bleeding hands, it only came back. The Dagven Mountains were black and cruel. Dark smoke billowed from shattered peaks, and orange-red lava ran down the sides in fiery rivers. It was hell. The incredible heat, the toxic vapors, the unforgiving landscape. He was fleeing through hell.

His only hope was to get far away from the deadly mountains. To reach the distant ocean shore beyond this blasted, lifeless land of volcanic rock and heat. He could do it. He’d fled the battle with his life when that had seemed impossible. He’d crossed the mountains when that had seemed impossible too. Now if he could only reach the sea, he might have a chance.

Keram tripped on a jagged stone and tumbled down a slope of obsidian shards. He gritted his teeth against the cuts on his hands. The sharp stone fragments tore at his leathers and his armor. He hit the ground hard at the bottom of the slope, rolling to a stop against a huge obsidian rock. For a while, he could only lie there gasping, his body a mass of aches and pains. Thirst made his throat feel like he’d swallowed the lava that had seemed to chase him as he’d desperately tried to find a way across the mountains. His lungs still burned from the foul, poisonous air.

He was afraid he would die.

His friends were all dead.

Maybe it would be best to simply lie here and give up. He was so tired, thirsty, and hungry. He had nowhere to go. The Shona tribes had destroyed the Rysarian Empire’s Second Army only a day or so ago. It was hard to remember how much time had passed. It was difficult to even think clearly. He’d been a spearman fighting on the flank, with the dark slopes of the Dagven Mountains on his right. And that was the direction he had fled when the Rysarian lines had shattered under barbarian assault. He’d run away into the mountains.

By the gods, he was so thirsty. The only water he’d had since his waterskin had run out had been from a brief rainstorm. The water had tasted of ashes. Even if he reached the sea, what then? He couldn’t drink salt water. He might travel all that way only to stand in the surf and die of thirst. It was almost amusing.

But then again, it was better than a sword in his belly. Or was it? His thoughts felt fuzzy and seemed to float through his mind as if they weren’t his own. His emotions seemed brittle and random.

No. He was a coward maybe, but he wasn’t ready to lie down and die just yet. He would at least get to the ocean and breathe in the clean sea wind coming off the water. He’d run with the rest of his comrades when the wave of screaming warriors had smashed through their shield wall, and everything had been chaos and blood. Dalen, his best friend, had been skewered clean through by a spear. Haddal had fallen with an arrow through his throat, clutching at Keram as he’d died. Haddal’s blood was still in the grooves of Keram’s armor.

So coward he might be, but he’d only ever been a singer, a minstrel, and not a very good one either. What did he know about fighting to the death or killing? They’d conscripted him. Now he was a failed soldier and a failed minstrel who was about to die alone in a land of black rock and fire.

He blinked some of the grit out of his eyes and coughed a laugh. It was worthy of a sad song maybe. Or maybe it was too pathetic. One thing was for certain—if he didn’t reach the ocean, his pathetic song would have an even more pathetic ending.

With a groan, he managed to push himself back to his feet. He was going to reach the sea, no matter what. At least…at least he would accomplish something.

He began to move again, heading toward the huge white clouds and the barest glimmer of sunlight on a thin ribbon of water along the horizon. He lost sight of his goal at times as he walked. The land around him was mostly a plain of obsidian and lava stone, but it was full of small mounds of broken stone and channels where lava had flowed. Lava had formed rivers and tubes, then hardened into black ground. But most of the lava had flowed to the southwest. Fogs of choking smoke sometimes filled the air or lingered in the low places and hardened rivers. He avoided these pockets of bad air as best he could.

Even though the land between the mountains and the sea mostly seemed to be an uneven plain, he soon spotted one crude structure between him and the ocean. It was an evil-looking place. At first, he hadn’t believed it was man-made. If not for the slightly leaning tower, he still might not have believed it. But the closer he moved, the clearer it became. It was some kind of black fortress built of obsidian on top of a mound of blasted black earth. It was asymmetrical, ugly, and looked as if parts of it had already fallen down and the rest was in danger of doing the same. There were no banners or flags flying from it. It looked abandoned. It looked like a smaller version of some evil castle in a children’s tale.

He avoided it. He went wide around it, and even though he couldn’t see anyone on the battlements or in the single, leaning tower, he couldn’t escape the feeling he was being watched. No one was supposed to live in this forgotten part of the Rysar Empire. No one could. Nothing grew here. There were no rivers or lakes. Any roads there might have been had long since been destroyed or buried by lava. Maybe the black fort was some long abandoned fortress from ancient times, but he didn’t intend to go there. He was afraid of it.

He felt better when he was far enough past it that it was behind him and obscured by the clouds of smoke and fumes that trailed along the ground. His body ached with bruises and cuts. Exhaustion, hunger, and thirst ate away at him relentlessly. His thighs were trembling from all the leagues he’d already crossed, but with every step, the ocean grew closer. After scrambling up a broken mound of shattered black stone, he finally got a good view of the sea.

The sunlight flashed and glittered on the tops of the waves as if it were threaded with gold. He couldn’t smell the ocean yet, not in this foul air, but seagulls drifted on the wind out beyond the blasted land of rock. For the first time since fleeing the battle, he felt his heart lift with hope.

His mind was foggy about how much time had passed since he’d stumbled down from the mountains. It seemed like he’d walked forever with his throat burning and his eyes watering. If another man had been around—say an attractive one that Keram was eager to impress—perhaps he would’ve blamed the tears on the foul air. Or maybe he wouldn’t have. Why did he care if anyone saw him weeping? He’d already lost all his pride.

But at last, the wind began to blow against his face, heavy with the scent of salt. He licked his cracked lips and hurried in a lurching shuffle. He could hear the waves crashing on rocks. Seagulls wheeled overhead in lazy circles. A grin crossed his face at their cries.

And then he heard laughing. Children laughing…

No, he had to be hearing things that weren’t there. The wind was playing tricks on him. There couldn’t be children out here. But then he was certain he heard a woman’s voice. It was too far to make out the words, but he swore it was real.

People. People were here.

Keram glanced down at himself and winced. Even though he’d lost his spear and short sword fleeing the battle, he still looked like a walking nightmare. The leather armor they’d given him was battered and torn. He’d been splashed with blood. More blood dripped from his cut hands and knees. He would terrify anyone if he came running toward them, no matter how desperate he might be. At the same time, he needed help, or he was going to die. It felt like it had been months since he’d had anything to drink.

With the last of his strength, he climbed a small slope of obsidian shards that left his palms bleeding and his leathers torn. Two huge, black rock formations jutted from the top, pitted and covered with