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Alliance of Enemies: Soul Bound, #3
Alliance of Enemies: Soul Bound, #3
Alliance of Enemies: Soul Bound, #3
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Alliance of Enemies: Soul Bound, #3

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Blake must face his inner Alpha.

Kayla must accept her power.

Together, they must stand against the one who wishes to destroy them.

 

As time runs out, Blake and Kayla go head-to-head with a new evil emerging from the shadows, one who has unknowingly been controlling their journey, leading them to this very moment.

 

It's now or never for the Alliance but, for their people to survive, Blake and Kayla face a decision that could change the course of their lives forever.

 

ALLIANCE OF ENEMIES is the third book in the shifter romance series, SOUL BOUND.

 

***Please note, 'Alliance of Enemies' was previously published as 'Bound', book 3 in the series. While it has gone through a re-brand and has had new editing, the story itself is the same. ***

LanguageEnglish
PublisherRhian Edwards
Release dateFeb 1, 2023
ISBN9781915719041
Alliance of Enemies: Soul Bound, #3

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    Book preview

    Alliance of Enemies - Rhian Edwards

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    CHAPTER ONE

    Imogen

    HER HOME, THE PLACE in which she had grown up, was unrecognisable. The fire savaged everything in its path. Nothing was spared. Not the sofas in the lounge area where she’d spent many a night with some of the other young magic users. Not the dining room where one of her father’s shifter aids, Mal, would always sneak her an extra cupcake. Not the reading room where she went to relax and escape. And not her father’s office where she came to a stop, barely able to make out the familiar surroundings through the amber haze.

    Dad! she screamed into the fire, smoke racing into her lungs.

    She stumbled into the corner of the desk, snatching her hand away from the scorched wood.

    Dad! Her voice strained, the word scratching at her throat.

    Her dad wasn’t there. She lurched away from the heat, coughing as she fell out of the office and into the hallway inferno. Imogen crawled forward, unable to stand with the smoke drowning her lungs and the fire licking at her body.

    Wyatt’s stricken face as she ran into the hotel filled her mind. But she had no choice. Her dad was there – she was sure of it. There was no doubt he’d come to find her, thinking she was where he’d left her when he went to investigate the perimeter breach. Except she hadn’t been in the building at all. She’d gone with Wyatt and Blake to rescue Kayla from the shifters her father had hired to kill her in the woods behind the hotel.

    Her leggings caught on something, and pain flared through her thigh. She touched the area, her hand coming away slick. Tears gathered in her eyes. She wasn’t trained. She wasn’t strong. She wasn’t powerful. She injured herself at the first sign of danger, crawling in the depths of a flaming building with no way out. Oh, the things Wyatt would say if he could see her now.

    Wyatt.

    She gulped, a fresh wave of tears spilling down her cheeks. She’d left him to control the fire, and it dawned on her just how perilous the situation was.

    A groan ahead of her grabbed her attention. She crawled faster, ignoring the heat, and saw a body collapsed in a heap on the floor. It was a man. Her dad.

    Dad! she cried, heart pounding.

    She pushed him onto his back, shaking his shoulders, fear gripping her throat in a tight knot.

    Dad, she whispered, hiccupping.

    He remained motionless. Defeated, alone, she laid her head on his chest, clutching his jacket in her hands.

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    CHAPTER TWO

    Blake

    HEAT. UNBEARABLE HEAT, BORE down on his skin. Thick black smoke curled around his body. His throat ached – begged – for air, but there was none to be had. He crouched low, coughing and rapidly blinking cloudy tears out of his eyes – not that his vision improved. His shifter abilities were working overtime to give him some aspect of visual superiority, but the fire raged feverishly through the repurposed hotel and the fumes boiled viciously above him. He raised an arm to his brow, swiping sweat-drenched hair from his forehead, panting between lung-rattling coughs. Squinting, he swore he saw a human-shaped shadow moving erratically through the murky darkness. Imogen? Calling out wasn’t an option as the smoke would drown him. He rushed forward with the heat of the flames teasing his skin.

    He cursed Imogen, questioning his own sanity after he’d pursued her into the fiery blaze. She’d sprinted inside to rescue her father, and even though Blake had no love for the man after what he’d nearly done to Kayla, he couldn’t let Imogen die, too.

    Just thinking of Kayla tied up in the woods, waiting to be tortured and killed by shifters, made his blood boil.

    Yeah, he couldn’t care less what happened to Marcus.

    His head jerked around at the sound of wood splintering. Behind him, a large wooden beam crashed to the floor, and a wave of heat and sparks peppered his clothing. He slapped at them and scrambled away, crawling as fast as his oxygen deprived muscles could manage. If he was struggling with the abilities his shifter nature gave him, how was Imogen? He pushed the thought away when a low cry reached his ears. Shutting his eyes, he listened closely. Not only did he have no clue where he actually was in the building, he couldn’t see a blasted thing – at least not anything useful. If he never saw a flame again, it would still be too soon.

    He heard the sound once more and he followed its direction, scooting past fiery tendrils that reached out to grab him.

    Imogen! He paused when he saw her kneeling next to a body. While he didn’t want to see Imogen hurting, he prayed the body was that of Marcus’s. He hurried his pace, coming to a stop next to her. She held her father’s hand in one of her own, tenderly stroking his cheek.

    Dad? Daddy? she croaked, coughing the words out.

    Blake laid his hand on her shoulder and met her wide eyes. Fear – not for herself, but for her father – shone in their depths. Tears tracked down her dark skin, making paths through the thick layers of muck and ash.

    Marcus spluttered, his head thrashing from side to side with a painful wheeze.

    Imogen? he murmured, his voice strangely small in the roaring crackle of the blaze.

    Sweat dripped into Blake’s eyes. Down the hall, a plume of sparks shot into the darkness, indicating that something else had collapsed. He didn’t have much hope for the ceiling above them, and he tipped his head back to see rolling clouds of ink-coloured smoke. He tugged on Imogen’s arm.

    We have to go, he rasped.

    I’m sorry . . . I just wanted . . . the best for . . . you. Marcus mumbled incoherently. He was more injured than Blake had first thought. That suited him. Even if Blake wanted to, he wasn’t sure he could get them both out of the hotel.

    Imogen! No time. Blake pulled at her arm, rubbing his wrist across his eyes to wipe them free of smoke. Marcus noticed him, and they locked eyes. It could have been the smoke or the waves of heat, but Blake thought regret flashed on the dying man’s face just before his eyelids fluttered shut.

    Dad! Imogen screamed, shaking his shoulders. Over the noise of the blaze, Blake heard him moan, but he knew Imogen hadn’t. How could he explain to her that her dad was close to death and they would be, too, if they didn’t get out?

    Imogen, please, Blake begged. He wasn’t beyond throwing her over his shoulder and running out.

    Imogen flung herself at Blake with wild eyes, clutching his arms. Help him, Blake!

    Time was of the essence, but it was still her father. Shit.

    He’s too far gone, he began carefully, pulling her closer to the ground where the smoke wasn’t quite as thick; he needed to get the words out without the incessant coughing. I can’t get us all out. I can’t.

    Understanding filled Imogen’s gaze. She glanced at her dad’s still body, his relaxed face, his shut eyes. She bowed her head and wrapped her arms around Blake’s neck, sobbing against his chest. Her laboured breathing worried him as she turned towards her dad, placing a kiss on his forehead.

    Blake grabbed her hand and shuffled forward, her body stuck to his like glue; if they got separated again, he didn’t fancy his chances of finding her a second time. The fire spat at them as they attempted to navigate the searing inferno, red-orange flames reaching out to catch them in a deadly embrace. Imogen dragged behind him more and more, her movements sluggish, her breaths coming in shallow wheezes. He needed her to concentrate on her shield, but grief overtook her abilities.

    Blake tucked her into his side, one arm wrapping around her middle so he could shoulder her weight. The building shook around them as more of the walls came down, ravaged by fire. As soon as they turned down one path, it was covered with parts of the rapidly collapsing building.

    Another path cleared ahead of him, and he sensed magic was at play. He got to his feet, knowing he needed to move fast, even though the air was thick with smoke when he did so. Imogen leaned against him heavily, barely moving her own feet. Blake dragged her beside him and her head rolled forward as he stumbled under her weight.

    C’mon, he said to himself. He had to get out. Kayla was waiting for him. At the thought of Kayla, the path widened for them, and a faint trace of lavender pierced through the overwhelming stench of acrid smoke. He took a small, gruelling step forward, blinking sweat out of his eyes, shaking with concentration and effort.

    You have this, Blake. Your abilities – your strength, your speed, your senses – increase every day. He recalled Kayla’s words when she was trying to encourage him to use his shifter advantages, back when it was just the two of them.

    When you’re around I’m better. Perhaps I’m feeding off your magic? I can’t seem to get the hang of this on my own, he’d replied.

    Kayla had put her hands on her hips and looked at him pointedly, raising one of her brows. You’re never alone, Blake. You’ve got Alastair blood. I’ve seen you in action, and you’re way stronger than other shifters because you have determination, purpose, and this quality about you. It’s like you have this strong sense of self.

    Sense of self? I highly doubt it. My life has done a complete 180. I have no idea who I am and what I’m supposed to do. He was drowning. He was lost.

    Kayla had stepped forward into his space, her eyes expressing some truth he hadn’t seen at the time. She raised her palm and placed it gently over his heart.

    Here. This is you. And remember, you’re never alone . . .

    The sensation of her hand lingered. He tightened his grip on Imogen. They had to get out.

    Another beam came loose and crashed into them from behind. Blake took the brunt of the force as they were knocked to the ground. Their path closed up ahead, but he rushed to push the blazing beam off them. His back screamed as he rose up on his forearms. The flame-riddled wood rolled and trapped his legs. Imogen lay still, face down on the floor as Blake shoved the beam away, releasing an agonised roar as he did. Panting, he turned Imogen over and frowned at her fluttering eyelids. His blistered hands trembled, but he ignored the pain and wrapped her arm over the back of his shoulders to hoist her up.

    Blake took a step forward, trusting that Wyatt and Kayla would be able to sense where they were. It wasn’t much, but a small halo around his foot pushed back the flames pecking at his skin like greedy vultures. Another step. Another halo. His clothes caught on stray flames more than once, but every time he took a step, the flame was extinguished. Kayla.

    Blake stumbled to his knees, nearly losing his grip on Imogen as his charred hands quivered. He knew the tears that tracked down his face weren’t from the smoke.

    A glimmer of hope surfaced when a small, thin path opened up to a door. An exit. Blake’s sudden relief was quashed when flaming debris rained down from above, blocking their only way out. He turned, and the path he’d followed was swallowed whole by flames as they slid closer, eager to engulf them.

    I’m so sorry, Kayla. He closed his eyes, bracing for the moment the fire claimed him.

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    CHAPTER THREE

    Kayla

    FLAMES DANCED AGAINST THE night sky, casting eerie shadows. She stood motionless. Blake ran into the burning building like he’d forgotten something, not like he was risking his life. She was so mad at him. Mad that he could tell her to be careful but didn’t give his own safety a second thought as he ran towards danger to save their friend. Even though it made him who he was, it didn’t diminish her frustration.

    I can’t hold it! Wyatt grunted, dropping his hands and bending over at the waist to rest his palms on his knees. Shit! he growled, anger spewing into his words. Standing up straight, he brushed his uncharacteristically messy blonde hair back and shook his hands out. You got this, dude. You got this, he murmured to himself.

    Wyatt! Kayla! Luke shouted as he and Mal rounded the corner.

    What are you doing? You need to get out of here! Mal ordered, but Luke frowned.

    Where’s Imogen, Blake?

    Wyatt pointed to the building, panting. In there. I’m not powerful enough to counter whatever magic is fuelling the flames, and Kayla’s been drugged. Her magic isn’t working.

    What? Mal spluttered. His confusion was reflected on Luke’s face.

    Marcus knocked me out and took me into the woods where he’d arranged for shifters to kill me. These guys found me in time, but we came back and . . . Kayla trailed off.

    Luke ran a hand through his short hair, the first physical sign of frustration she’d ever seen him display. That makes sense. He’d been acting off, and that perimeter breach didn’t add up. When we got word of the attack on the hotel, we came rushing back. I lost Marcus in the building trying to evacuate everyone. Mal and I guessed you guys had escaped before the fire as the office was empty, but Marcus wouldn’t leave without looking for Imogen first.

    Is everyone else safe?

    Yes. We followed procedures, and the rest of the taskforce are leading them to our safe compounds. Marcus though . . .

    That’s why she ran in, Kayla finished.

    It doesn’t matter about any of that if we can’t get them out! Wyatt snapped.

    Kayla shuffled forward, still weak from the drug Marcus had given her to hinder her magic. She placed a hand on his shoulder. Let me help.

    Wyatt faced her, chewing the inside of his cheek. His eyes held a world of worry.

    But –

    But nothing. It’s worth a try. If we can clear a path for them . . .

    Wyatt nodded and grabbed her hand. "Try and channel to me. I know the drug is preventing you from using your magic, but I remember what your magic felt like during training. It’s strong. Maybe you can funnel a bit to me so I can use it."

    Anything.

    Wyatt turned his hands towards the building, closing his eyes. He breathed deeply. Despite her aches, Kayla did the same, keeping her hand in his. She was lucky the shifters who had come to kill her hadn’t been able to do much before Blake arrived. She’d been tied up for hours and it was causing most of her pain. She hated feeling weak and useless.

    She had no idea if she was transferring magic to Wyatt or if he was taking it from her, but he was controlling a section of fire, moving it away from the door to leave it clear for Blake and Imogen. Fire wasn’t his strongest element, but Wyatt was still a powerful magic user – probably one of the strongest she’d seen.

    Fire was supposedly her strength, but the drug had rendered her incapable of magic, so all she could do was watch. Her heart galloped in her chest.

    A crash from within sent a spark of fear coursing through her veins. Was Blake okay? She felt the heat of the blaze from where she stood. She locked her knees to keep her trembling legs upright.

    That’s as far as I can extend the magic, Wyatt said dejectedly, his voice heavy with pain.

    Kayla frowned. Are you giving up?

    Kayla . . . he said, tears welling.

    No, Wyatt. You don’t give up! You don’t get to give up! Blake’s in there! Imogen! she shouted. What would she do without his help? If Blake were here, she’d kick his ass for being so reckless.

    "I can

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