Hunting Megan: A Castre World Novel, #7

By E.A. Shanniak

Megan Liberone was the last princess of Clouneder. Now, she was as good as dead. Flames consumed everything in the chaotic darkness – Clouneder Castle was burning before her eyes. Terrified, she ran headlong to the overgrown depths of the Black Forest in hopes to preserve her own life.

 

Faolan is blood-bound to the king. The kings last quest – bring back the beautiful princess who escaped her death. Being the most skilled tracker and hunter in Castre, this task would prove too easy.

 

Megan attempted to conceal her flight. Surely the man after her could not find her under the thick canopy of trees? Megan panicked. The skin on the back of her neck prickled. The man was coming for her and death followed him.

 

Revisit the Castre World, it's magic, and endearing tenderness with this impressive tale of the boundless ends of true love.

• Language: English
• Publisher: E.A. Shanniak
• Release date: Jul 6, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223054504

Book preview

Hunting Megan

A Castre World Novel

E.A. Shanniak

Eagle Creek Books LLC

Hunting Megan: A Castre World Novel by E.A. Shanniak

Copyright © 2019, 2021 E.A. Shanniak

All rights reserved.

Cover Design: Vikki – vikncharlie at Fivrr

Developmental Editing: Kiki C.

Proofreading: Michelle F. & Tiffany P.

Formatting: Grace P.

Published by Eagle Creek Books LLC of Molalla, Oregon

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Without limiting the rights under the copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical by photocopying, recording or otherwise) without prior written permission of the copyright owner and the publisher of this book.

The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or by any other means without permission of the author is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized printed or electronic editions and do not participate or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author's rights is appreciated.

www.eashanniak.com

Dedication

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To My Husband,

You’re my rock, my soul mate, everything and all I will ever need in this life. I’m so happy and lucky to have met you, but even luckier to call you mine forever. I love you so much.

More By - E.A. Shanniak

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Fantasy Romance – A Castre World Novel Standalones

Piercing Jordie

Mitering Avalee

Forging Calida

Uplifting Irie

Braving Eavan

Warring Devan

Hunting Megan

Shifting Aramoren – A Castre World Short Story

Anchoring Nola – A Castre World Short Story

A Bayonet Books Anthology

Storming Area 51 — Stalking Death

Slay Bells Ring — Stocking Gryla

Clean & Sweet Western Romance – Whitman Series Romances

To Find A Whitman

To Love A Thief

To Save A Life

To Lift A Darkness

To Veil A Fondness

To Bind A Heart

To Hide A Treasure

To Want A Change

To Form A Romance

Slow Burn Paranormal Romance – Dangerous Ties Series

Opening Danger

Hunting Danger

Burning Danger

Contents

1.One

2.Two

3.Three

4.Four

5.Five

6.Six

7.Seven

8.Eight

9.Nine

10.Ten

11.Eleven

12.Twelve

13.Thirteen

14.Fourteen

15.Fifteen

16.Sixteen

17.Seventeen

18.Eighteen

19.Nineteen

20.Twenty

21.Twenty-One

22.Twenty-Two

23.Twenty-Three

24.Twenty-Four

25.Twenty-Five

26.Twenty-Six

27.Twenty-Seven

28.Twenty-Eight

29.Twenty-Nine

30.Thirty

31.Thirty-One

Epilogue

About The Author

One

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Year of Corwaithe 1239

The stars were brighter under the Orthilioan sky. Although, they seemed lonelier, like a piece of their soul happened to be missing. Or maybe it was just her.

Megan inhaled the distinct scent of sandalwood and jasmine in the night air. Plucking a flower out of a potted plant, she twirled it in her fingers. The lush petals brushed against her fingertips. The giant fountain gurgling behind the Orthilioan castle brought a wan smile to her face.

There was a different kind of peacefulness here she enjoyed. And the desert heat was a nice change from the rain back home. She loved coming to Orthilio to see Eavan, her eldest sister, and her new baby, Farid. Eavan’s husband, King Rais, always welcomed her with open arms. Megan didn’t think Orthilio would ever feel as much like home as Clouneder in Meerdora did. But Rais and Eavan made it comfortable, especially now with their babe. The happy child, with a constant smile on his mischievous face, reminded her so much of growing up with her sisters.

Megan smiled, remembering all of Eavan’s most defiant moments. Her sheep business was one of them. Their stepmother, Vevina, forbade Eavan to even undertake such a task. Eavan’s lips had quirked at the corners, and eyes laced with defiance, she’d done it anyway. As her middle sister, Devan, in learning how to battle and spar. Devan laughed, eyes flashing with the notorious Meerdoran tenacity and bested men on the training grounds.

Megan sighed, leaning up against the stone, mindlessly twirling the purple iris in her hands. She wanted a family like both her sisters had. However, it did not seem forthcoming to her. Vevina told her it would come in time, and Corwaithe would make it be an instantaneous connection of love, because that was how the goddess worked. It was how it had been for her, same as Eavan and Rais.

As a priest of the goddess once said - Corwaithe doesn’t like for love to wait, to bloom like a flower over time; when two perfect souls meet, forever should begin now. Megan hoped to have the same instant connection with the man she was meant to be with.

Yet, she was out here, and alone under the watchful, glowing gaze of the stars. Megan cupped the flower in her hand. She would take the love given to her, whether it was instant or bloomed slowly like a flower. In the end, she wanted to be loved, to have someone to share her life with, and a family. She wanted what Corwaithe promised all her people - a bonded soulmate to have into eternity.

She had said no to a handful of men vying for her hand—men like Kerry MacKerwin of Earnswey – he was silly and tried too hard. She was holding out for the promised love, the forever kind where a heart calls for another, where there is a powerful, unexpected rush of air to the body, quaking limbs, and a fast heartbeat. Now, she felt foolish as if waiting for the wrong reasons led her to her current mood.

Megan, Eavan called. What are you doing out here? We are gathered in the sunroom for dessert.

Her other sister came out with a sleeping Farid in her arms. Aye, Devan added. It’s yer favorite too—crema catalana.

Megan smiled. I’m thinkin’ about how Farid is so much like Eavan.

Eavan scowled. How so?

Ye make the same faces, Devan laughed.

And yer very stubborn, Megan added.

No more stubborn than you, Devan’s husband, Haris, said, kissing his wife on the cheek. You’re more stubborn than the annoying dragons.

Devan’s jaw dropped. Go live with them then! she teased back.

Eavan snorted, taking her baby from her sister as Haris’s thundering laugh echoed over the stillness. Megan held out her arms for Farid, and Eavan placed the sleeping boy in them. Farid’s mop of short black hair stuck out all over like Rais’s. Megan stroked his cheek, his soft caramel skin warm to her touch. Eavan tucked the blanket under Farid’s chin. Megan smiled, holding the babe close.

He’s so perfect, Megan commented.

Eavan held out her hands. I need to put him to bed.

Megan passed her nephew back, smiling wanly as she did so. Devan wrapped an arm around her, following the party back inside, but detouring to the sunroom where the delicious cinnamon and caramelized sugar scent of dessert wafted to her nose. Her stomach rumbled excitedly. She sat on a red-cushioned chair, impatiently waiting for Eavan and Rais to come back. Her stomach rumbled again, garnering the attention of Rais’s mother, Flora, and Vevina.

Heaven’s child, don’t perish, Flora joked. Eat.

Megan snagged the one with the most caramelized sugar on top, eagerly digging in. Haris offered Devan one; she refused, expressing how her stubbornness dictated her too. Haris snorted, eating his while Devan’s perched readily in his lap. Megan scooted carefully over to Haris, grinning childishly as she did. Without him noticing, she took the one on his lap, turning away from him to stare out the open, paneless window.

Give it back, Megan, Haris growled. I don’t get these all the time.

Megan hunched over. I dinna either!

Flora rolled her eyes, sighing exasperatedly as only a mother could do. Children, I had a dozen more made to go home with you.

I get seven! Haris argued.

Megan whipped around, spoon in her mouth. Why?

"You’re eating that one."

Megan shrugged, taking a bite in front of him with a smile. Her family laughed. It was moments like this her heart treasured most. She loved the closeness, how everyone bonded. She loved the security her family provided. Eavan, always the biggest and bravest protector, made certain when she married Rais, she and Devan would have peaceful ties between nations. And now, with Devan married to Rais’s cousin, Haris made certain she and Devan were guarded even when walking in the garden. Her family was her refuge, her love, and her happiness.

Rais walked in with a game and pieces in his hands, challenging anyone who dared to a game of chess. Megan raised her hand, accepting the challenge. She was determined to beat him this time. Her family gathered around to offer advice on how to beat the undefeated, self-proclaimed master. With a grin, she moved her pawn. Rais made disapproving sounds. Megan laughed, moving her knight out. Rais cracked his knuckles.

Megan moved her pawn on her next move, then her bishop. All of which she somehow lost. Grumbling, she moved her rook. She lost that too.

Check mate, Rais said triumphantly.

She’d lasted longer than she assumed, but still lost. With her defeat, she bid everyone good night. Devan did as well, joining her outside the sunroom in the hallway. Together, they waited for Haris and Rais to finish conversing, each vowing to see each other in a few days.

Haris grabbed the tray of crema catalana, handing it to Devan. Megan linked her arm with her sister as Devan held onto Haris. With a final goodbye, Haris’s magic, blue-white fire, whipped from his hands and swirled around them in a confined cyclone. With a pop and a bright burst of magic, they landed inside the darkened Clouneder keep.

Megan ambled her way up the stairs to her bedroom. Giggling from her sister echoed through the castle as Haris’s thundering voice told her to quiet down. Megan shut the door, helping to drown out their noise. She wanted to know what it would be like – to be loved fully, to make love late into the night.

Megan closed her eyes, leaning against the door. I want a forever love, instantaneous and remarkable. I want what Corwaithe promised. My sisters are so lucky. Maybe someday I will be lucky too.

Stepping farther into her room, she sleepily crawled into bed with a tired smile on her face. Her family was everything to her, and in a few days, they would do this all over again.

Two

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Faolan stared at the stained canvas ceiling of his tent. Hands behind his head, sleep eluded him. It seemed more likely sleep avoided him as much as he did it. Each time he closed his eyes, he pictured his wife, Krista. The painful memory of losing her last year haunted him in the lonely hours of the night.

Rarely was sleep able to effortlessly claim him. And tonight, was not one of those moments. Outside, the rustling of the men resonated through their camp. Cook fires being doused with water hissed with complaints. Soft whickering of sleeping horses made him envious. The metal of armor clanged together and Faolan groaned.

He ran his hands over his face, wishing sleep would claim him for a few moments. His mind wandered to Krista, wondering how the babe she carried would have looked, how old it would have been now. Closing his eyes, he pictured Krista’s sweet oval face and the vibrancy of her blue eyes. How she woke in the morning with a smile and brushed his hair off his face. How he would help her to get up, because her rounding belly made it difficult.

The life he’d thought he’d found with his wife, he cherished more now than he did before. The love he’d found with her, he knew he couldn’t ever find it again.

The lying, sneaking fox shifter—who he’d once saved, and who owed him a favor—refused to save Krista when the goddess called her home. Now, he would walk this life alone. Faolan wanted a family. He wanted a wife, children, and a home. The life he desired was stripped, taken, and beaten from him by the hands of the one he was forced to serve.

Rapping came from outside the tent. The shadows dancing on the tent walls spoke of the man whom he would be seeing.

Faolan, Morgear called. I need to speak with my best hunter.

Groaning, Faolan rose, moving the blanket off his body. He stretched, taking his sweet time to answer the man he was forced to call king. The same man who’d forced his hand into servitude through an Orthilioan Blood Pact – a damnable, lifetime binding promise. And because Faolan had originally refused this monster, Morgear had taken his wife, slitting her throat in front of him. While Krista lay on the cold ground, dying helplessly, he was bound to Morgear.

Faolan loathed the man more than he ever disliked a being in his life. Morgear took everything from him in one fell swoop. Then, when it felt like the man could crush him no farther, Morgear had made an Orthilioan perform the Blood Pact on him, binding him to Morgear for three tasks. Or until Morgear died. Until that day, Faolan was his.

Whatever this man wanted, Faolan prayed it was his final task so he could live alone in the cottage he had made for Krista and himself. Nothing would ever bring Krista back. However, the home he had built them would still smell like her sweet honeysuckle scent. Faolan closed his eyes, a wan smile creasing his lips. She’d woken with the dawn each morning and picked the flowers he planted for her.

Faolan ran a hand over his face, wiping the dulcet memories clear to cherish at a different time. He shoved his tired feet in his boots grumpily. The memories of his wife would be all he would ever have once his tasks were completed, and Faolan clung to the handful of good memories with her. He could not kill himself, for the Blood Pact forbade it. Nor could he raise a blade against Morgear. Though that bastard’s day of reckoning would come with his final task completed.

He cracked his neck and his knuckles, tying the laces of his boots. Once that task was done, he would kill Morgear and go live in the cottage. Until then, he was stuck here by his master’s side.

Faolan! Morgear hollered.

Yeah! he responded, rising off the bed.

Faolan thrust back the tent flap. Morgear leered at him, putting out a hand. Faolan put his hands on his hips, straightening his back.

It is time, Morgear stated, putting his hand at his side while his gaze went north. Don’t you think?

Faolan crossed his arms. Is this my final task?

Morgear laughed, patting him on the back. If my quarry is inside, then yes.

Then it is time.

Three

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Athunderous, constant banging reached her ears. Screaming entered into the fray of noise. Strands of light flashed through her chamber window. Scrunching her eyes and groaning, she rolled over on her back. Someone came inside her room, yelling her name. The banging noise persisted. Megan wiped her eyes.

Ugh Devan, she thought, ye crazed lass.

Megan, wake up! Devan shouted, the panic in her voice catching her attention as something clattered in a chair.

Devan ripped the blankets off her. Megan sprang up, turning an angry head at Devan. Megan went to retort when a traveling cloak and a scarf punched her in the face.

We’re under attack, her sister said urgently, packing her belongings into a bag. Ye need to leave here right now! Yer goin’ to ride Merit and go to our sister and mum in Orthilio! Or anywhere for that matter.

Megan sat up. Leave? But why? I can stay here with ye and help.

Devan growled in frustration. Megan jumped out of bed, dressing quickly. Her hands fumbled with the stays on her dress. She pulled her tall winter boots on and threw the cloak on last along with a scarf. The crackling of fire echoed from inside her chamber. The threatening orange glow prickled her skin, churning her stomach in knots.

Devan, Megan began.

Devan turned to her, her eyes wide and frightened. The fear of not surviving, of losing Megan, danced behind her sister’s sharp green eyes. Megan picked up the satchel Devan made for her and threw it over her shoulder.

Megan didn’t want to leave on Merit. She disliked horses, and especially Devan’s overly spirited animal. Hopefully, the blasted horse would take her to Orthilio where Eavan resided or at least to the nearest clan. Her hands shook as she gripped the satchel tighter. There was no way she could ride and get out of Clouneder alive. She wasn’t brave. Nor was she skilled at horsemanship or weaponry like her sisters. She would be dead before daybreak.

The conquering flashes of light from outside caught her attention. Her ears were numbed to the noise as her thundering heart was all she could hear. Fear made her skin prickle as her legs remained stuck to the floor. Megan licked her lips, biting her bottom one hard enough to snap her back to the moment.

I canna do this, she thought

If I die, yer the last leader, Megan. Yer the last one who can get help for us, Devan told her as she filled another traveling pack, throwing in an assortment of garments and a sack of coins. Ye canna go with our people in case they get caught. One might sell ye out. Merit will protect ye. He will keep ye safe, she said as she finished packing and thrusting the bag to her.

Devan pulled her over to the bed where they sat momentarily. Megan could feel the shake in Devan’s hands, the uncertainty waver in her voice. Megan smiled wanly, giving her sister’s hand a squeeze.

Devan licked her lips It will be alright. Ye need to go to Flowermoss. They will take ye to Eavan.

Devan gave her sister a peck on the cheek. Megan shook from an icy chill running down her spine. She would be riding Merit. She didn’t like horses, never had, and didn’t care to ride this particular one. The only horse she liked was her lumbering nag, because it didn’t move much. Devan stood quickly, going over to the window. Megan followed, standing behind her and looking out for the first time.

The night sky was alive with swirling plumes of thick smoke. Orange flames consumed everything in their wake as dark black-gray smoke rose to the heavens, blanketing the sky with terror. Dying screams of her people sent shivers down her spine. Her clansmen crying out as death greeted them with cold steel kisses through their bodies.

Megan covered her mouth with her hands. Tears trickled down her face. I’m no’ goin’ to make it, she thought. There’s no way I can make it out.

The east wall was destroyed, laying in pieces, like a toddler’s crushed bread crumbs. Dead bodies of Meerdorans lay woefully under the stone