Realm of Ice and Shadow: Kingdom of Cymmera

By Leigh Stratton

Betrayal lies cloaked in shadow. 

 

Seventeen year old Ryleigh Donnovan is certain her life is cursed. Nothing ever goes

• Language: English
• Publisher: Level Elevate
• Release date: Nov 21, 2023
• ISBN: 9781685125134

Leigh Stratton

Young adult and middle-grade fantasy writer Leigh Stratton is the author of the Kingdom of Cymmera series and the Ranger of the Realms series. Leigh grew up in a small town on Long Island, where she spent many lazy afternoons with a good book. She would read at the beach, outside beneath a tree, anywhere she could find to curl up and lose herself in a story for a few hours. She loves reading as much now as she did back then, only now she enjoys the added pleasure of creating stories of her own.

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Leigh Stratton

REALM OF ICE AND SHADOW

Kingdom of Cymmera

First published by Level Elevate 2023

Copyright © 2023 by Leigh Stratton

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

Leigh Stratton asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

Author Photo Credit: Leigh Stratton

Previously published as Reluctant Prince

Second edition

ISBN: 978-1-68512-513-4

Cover art by Level Best Designs

This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy

Find out more at reedsy.com

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Elaina, thank you so much for your support, encouragement and help. I love you, and I’m so proud of the young woman you’ve become!

Praise for Realm of Ice and Shadow

Reviews are from the previously published edition.

A gorgeously wrought fantasy realm with a heroine who will make you cheer!—Wendy Higgins, NYT and USA Today bestselling author of the Sweet Evil trilogy

"Realm of Ice & Shadow grips you from the beginning and won’t let go…fresh and engaging."—Ally Shields, author of the Guardian Witch series.

A thrilling ride on a rollercoaster of danger that’ll keep you gasping for breath with every turn of the page.—Laura Diamond, author of The Zodiac Collector.

Leigh Stratton weaves a tale of family bonds, untapped abilities and an alternate world of fantastic wonders, all discovered by a courageous heroine and a swoon-worthy hero I want to see again and again!—Theresa DaLayne, author of The Edge of You.

"Realm of Ice & Shadow takes readers on a heart pounding journey through the realms. Fantastical world building and a captivating hero keep pages turning to the end."—Julie Anne Lindsey, author of Prophecy and Deceived

"Realm of Ice & Shadow by Leigh Stratton is a great read for those looking for a cool new young adult fantasy series to sink their teeth into."—Katelyn Hensel for Readers’ Favorite

Chapter One

Your Majesty. Jackson Maynard dropped to one knee before the king and bowed his head. You summoned me?

Rise. Though the king issued the demand quietly, there was no mistaking the steel in his tone or the strength in his near-black eyes.

As Jackson stood, his gaze ricocheted around the stone chamber, noting everyone present in an instant, as he’d been trained to do. It made no sense he’d been summoned to the throne room. Unless he was in trouble again. An official reprimand, perhaps?

He wisely kept his mouth shut, for a change, at least until he had some clue what was going on. Though he’d stood in the throne room more times than he could remember, as a child, as a trainee, even during counsel sessions, his presence had never before been the result of an official summons.

His trainer, the king’s second in command, for the moment anyway, stood at attention beside the throne, feet apart, hands clasped behind him, dark eyes rivetted on Jackson. An imposing figure under the best of circumstances, Kai was downright scary at the moment.

Elijah, the king’s prophet, hurried into the chamber. My apologies for taking so long, sir. I had to be sure.

The king simply nodded as Elijah took his place beside Kai, fidgeting with the sleeve of his black robe.

Jackson didn’t have to turn around to know the warriors lining the wall behind him in full battle gear all stood at attention in the king’s presence. If the Death Dealer team had been assembled, something was definitely wrong.

Since his best friend Dakota wasn’t present, Jackson doubted it had anything to do with the dragon they’d commandeered the night before, though he couldn’t be sure. But the presence of Death Dealers would most likely mean something more pressing than a childish prank, albeit an unwise and dangerous one. Besides, it’s not like they hadn’t returned him when they were done.

King Maynard rose from his throne, standing tall in his own armor. He bore the dark hair of most Cymmeran men, though his had shot through with a streak of silver upon Queen Dara’s death—perhaps the only touch of light she’d been able to leave him. Prince Maynard…

Uh oh. His official title, which his father never used unless Jackson was in serious trouble.

Under Kai’s tutelage, he continued, you have trained these past centuries to take your place as a Death Dealer.

Jackson sucked in a breath. Oh, no way!

With one hand resting on the handle of his sheathed sword, his expression carved in stone, the king paced the platform that held both the king’s and queen’s thrones, though Queen Dara’s had sat empty these many centuries.

Jackson’s gaze shifted to the seer, Elijah, only for an instant while his father’s back was turned, but he couldn’t read the other man, couldn’t tell why he’d been summoned. Jackson could only hope… His gaze shot back to the king, offering his full attention before he turned back around.

Unfortunately, his momentary lapse of focus hadn’t been lost on Kai. The warrior scowled in warning, and Jackson struggled to regain his concentration.

King Maynard descended the steps to the chamber floor and stood facing Jackson. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he held Jackson’s gaze. It is time, my son.

Yes! He resisted the urge to shout in triumph, barely. He’d trained for hundreds of years for this moment, was more prepared than any warrior who’d ever been ordained before him. The prophet must have had a vision, seen another warrior who needed to be collected, and offered the opportunity to join the Cymmeran army to take his place as a defender of the realm. Of course, Jackson would have to kill him to attain him—the Cymmerans had been killing humans to fight for their kingdom for more centuries than Jackson had been alive—but he was prepared to do what he had to in order to save his people and the kingdom he’d one day rule. I’m ready, Your Majesty.

His father studied him for a long moment. You’re sure?

Yes, sir. He was more than sure. He’d been psyched for this moment for longer than he could remember. He’d waited patiently—or not so patiently—for Elijah to come to him with news of a vision so he would have the opportunity to prove himself, to pass one final test before he could be ordained a Death Dealer.

The king turned to Kai, his most seasoned warrior and Jackson’s trainer. Kai?

He nodded once. Yes, sir, the boy is ready. He’ll do you proud.

The confidence in Kai’s voice caught Jackson off guard and sent a jolt of surprise running through him. As his trainer, the man had never had a kind word. No matter how hard Jackson trained, no matter how much extra he did, no matter if he achieved every goal faster and stronger than any warrior to come before him, Kai always expected more or better. He’d pushed Jackson harder than he had anyone else, expected more from him, gave him extra training exercises the others didn’t have to endure…

King Maynard hesitated, blew out a breath. Look, Jackson, you do understand the consequences of failure, right? You can have more time if you feel you’re not ready.

I will not fail, sir. And it was a kick to his ego that his father would even think to suggest otherwise.

That’s not what I asked. His bellow echoed through the chamber.

Jackson cringed. Sir, yes, I understand the consequences, but—

No buts, he yelled. You will have only one opportunity to acquire the human target.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, and the consequences of failure would be death or banishment from Cymmera, and blah, blah, blah, but he wouldn’t fail. It’s not like this was his first collection, just his first solo collection. I understand, Your Majesty, and I am fully prepared to pass this test and ascend to my position as a Death Dealer and take Kai’s place as your second in command.

Which meant if anything happened to his father, Jackson would be expected to take his place and lead the kingdom in whatever came next. An endeavor he was in no way prepared for, nor did he want, but it was a responsibility that came with his ascension to Death Dealer, a role he wanted more than anything. So he would accept it and hope his father lived a long life, which shouldn’t be too difficult considering Cymmerans were basically immortal and lived until they were killed, usually in battle.

King Maynard narrowed his eyes, and Jackson could see the question there, the uncertainty. Just because Jackson had confidence his father lacked didn’t mean he shouldn’t get the chance to prove himself. The fact the Death Dealer team stood ready to go meant his father had at least some misgivings about sending Jackson in solo. He’d readied back-up just in case Jackson ran into trouble.

I am fully prepared for this, Your Majesty. Energy sizzled, vibrated along every nerve ending, with the need to prove himself. I will not shame you, sir, nor will I shame my trainer. He has prepared me for this moment, and I will succeed.

Finally, his father nodded toward Elijah.

This is the target you will acquire. The prophet stepped forward and offered Jackson a photograph.

Jackson took it from him but didn’t bother to look at it. It made no difference to him who he was sent to collect. When he returned to his chamber to don jeans and a black shirt to better blend with the humans, he’d take a look at the picture. Then, when he stepped through the portal to the human realm, he’d simply assassinate whoever matched it and return with him through the portal to Cymmera.

Elijah cleared his throat and tapped the picture. You will find her—

Wait. What? He looked down at the photograph in his hand and frowned. While they’d always killed men to supplement their armies and defend the kingdom, women in Cymmera were rare—prized and protected. Now Elijah wanted him to assassinate one? For what purpose? Surely, she wasn’t meant to be a warrior. Had they, after so many years of no hope other than survival, simply turned into a bunch of killers, who’d murder someone for no good reason? A girl? You want me to assassinate a teenage girl?

A human girl, who is meant to exist in this realm. Elijah bowed his head, then retreated a few steps. Yes, my Prince.

Jackson traced a finger over the girl’s long blond hair, studied her delicate features. She couldn’t be more than sixteen or seventeen in human years. How could she possibly be expected to exist in Cymmera? Even Cymmeran women didn’t fight, and only men had ever been collected and brought to Cymmera, the warriors they needed to defend Cymmera from Daygan of Argonas’s attacks. What would this frail girl do against his army of monsters?

The thought of Daygan brought an instant rush of pain and grief, followed by raw anger. Jackson fisted his hand, crumpling the image of the girl he was being sent to assassinate. Are you sure?

I am quite certain. Elijah lifted a shaky hand to his temple, closed his eyes, then sighed and opened them a moment later. Though he was a timid man by nature, he was usually fully confident in his visions. This time, he seemed less certain. I have seen the girl in Cymmera, surrounded by light.

Light? Jackson scoffed. This realm has been dead for hundreds of years, ever since—

I have a theory. Elijah rushed forward and stood face to face with Jackson, lay a hand on his shoulder. I believe this girl may be meant to restore light to our kingdom.

Jackson didn’t dare to hope. Nothing could restore the past to Cymmera after the death of his mother, the queen, at Daygan’s hand. The entire kingdom had shriveled and died with her that day, leaving behind a wasteland of death and destruction, a bitter people who no longer found joy in their lives. As far as hope—that was a commodity he didn’t dare indulge in.

Unsure what to say, Jackson simply nodded once in assent. If his responsibility was to assassinate this human girl so she could be transported through the portal to Cymmera, then so be it. It wasn’t up to him to choose his targets, only to fulfill his objective. Very well then.

Very good. Elijah nodded and stepped back. Now, I will aim to cause as much chaos as possible. As the earth shakes, you will enter the portal and find the girl. I will keep the earthquake going as long as I can, but you will not have much time. There will be many other humans around, and you must get in and out without being detected.

Got it. Jackson nodded, but in his mind, the image of the blond girl with the big blue eyes and delicate smile tortured him.

* * *

Come on, Mia. I can’t be late. Ryleigh Donnovan hit the button to lock the car doors, then dropped the keys into her bag. She resisted the urge to check her watch again as she started across the parking lot. What good would it do?

I’m coming. Mia rounded the back of the car and ran to catch up. She tried to shove the mass of curly, brown hair behind her ears, but it kept tumbling back into her face, covering big, blue eyes that were still red-rimmed and puffy. Sorry, I had to tie my shoe.

A bolt of sympathy shot through Ryleigh, and she hugged her sister. It’s okay, kiddo, not a big deal. I’m just a little nervous. You remember what to do, right?

Yes, Ryleigh, I remember. Mia rolled her eyes. Sit in the lobby, don’t move, don’t talk to anyone, and stay out of trouble.

They both grinned as they hurried toward the building.

Mia sobered too soon, as she always did since their grandmother’s death last week. Do you think you’ll get the job?

I don’t know. But even if I don’t, it’ll be okay. Somehow, she’d manage to keep Mia with her and support them, despite the fact she was only seventeen years old and hadn’t even finished high school yet. She’d basically been taking care of Mia, who was five years younger than her, since her parents had died when they were both very young.

A car backed out in front of her, and she grabbed Mia’s arm a little too tightly, a gut reaction when the only person you had left in your life might be in danger.

How can you be sure? Mia’s tears started again.

Great. Now what? She couldn’t very well leave her sitting alone in the lobby blubbering. A quick glance at her grandmother’s watch showed only five minutes to make it to the third floor. Taking both of Mia’s shoulders in her hands, she turned her until they stood face to face. It will be okay, Mia. I promise. You have to trust me.

I don’t want to live with someone else.

I know. Ryleigh’s heart broke as the seconds ticked off in her head. Please, trust me. I’ll make sure we stay together. Okay?

Mia nodded, once again tumbling curls into her face.

Ryleigh tucked them back behind her ear. How would she ever make things right? Come on. After this, I’ll take you for pizza.

Her sister smiled hesitantly, and Ryleigh picked up the pace, Mia struggling to keep up. Whether she got the job or not, she would take Mia to Tony’s for pizza. Not that they could afford it, but Mia needed time to be a kid. Actually, Ryleigh did too.

Ryleigh hurried into the main lobby and led Mia to a small seating arrangement in the corner past the main reception desk. Now remember—

I know, I know. Just go. Rolling her eyes again, Mia curled into the chair.

Love you, little sis.

She shot her a tentative smile. Me too, big sis.

Still, Ryleigh hesitated to leave her there, even though the twelve-story building had plenty of traffic moving through the lobby. She’d be fine there, but Ryleigh still worried. Mia was twelve, but her tiny frame made her seem even younger. Tucked into the large armchair with an oversized book open in front of her, she appeared so fragile. But getting this job was too important to mess up, and taking Mia upstairs with her might appear unprofessional. She crossed to the elevator and jabbed the button for the third floor. No way would she let anyone take Mia from her. She’d find a way to support them, somehow.

Exiting the elevator, Ryleigh tried to read the crumpled napkin she’d jotted the suite number on while running out the door that morning. Of course, now she couldn’t make out her own handwriting. Four o’clock on the dot. She was late. She raced down the corridor as quickly as her pumps would allow.

When she turned the corner at the wall of smoked glass bordering the lobby, she stopped short, overwhelmed by the luxury of the grown-up world she was about to enter. Maybe she should bring Mia up there to sit. There was plenty of room. Surely, they would understand she had to keep Mia close. Another glimpse at her watch propelled her through the door marked Jacobs & McClain.

The rhythmic clack, clack, clack of her heels as she crossed the wood floor should have been enough to announce her arrival to the receptionist, but she still had to clear her throat twice when she reached the reception desk.

The woman turned her paperback over. Yes?

Ryleigh cleared her throat again and discreetly wiped her sweaty hands on her skirt. Umm… Great start. I…umm…

The woman tapped a beautifully manicured, blood-red nail against the back of her book and tilted her head.

The rude gesture was enough to quell Ryleigh’s nerves and stiffen her posture. I’m here to see Mr. Jacobs.

Do you have an appointment? The receptionist lifted a perfectly arched eyebrow.

Don’t choke now, Ryleigh; the stakes are too high.

Of course. She mirrored the woman’s haughty tone. Was everyone who worked there so snooty? She hoped not. Ryleigh couldn’t treat people with the bored indifference this woman had mastered.

The woman checked her appointment book.

Ryleigh tried to dismiss her growing apprehension. With her grandmother gone now, she needed this job to support herself and Mia. Her breath hitched. Had it really been only a week since her grandmother’s death? She fought tears, as well as the urge to run away, and struggled to regain control. She had to pull herself together. Mia had no one else left.

Follow me.

Ryleigh jumped.

Beside her, the receptionist stood tapping her foot against the deep, rich wood floor.

Ryleigh flushed and lowered her gaze. She was in so over her head. What was she even doing there?

She followed the ice queen down a long corridor, the thick carpet and pinching shoes making it difficult to walk.

The woman stopped before a set of large double doors, and when she shoved them open dramatically, Ryleigh couldn’t suppress an equally dramatic eye roll. Although she managed to halt her eyes mid-roll, the smirk on Mr. Jacobs’ face told her it had been too late.

Hello, Ms. Donnovan. It’s a pleasure to meet you. He came around the desk and extended his hand as the witch closed the doors behind them. His thick, dark hair and trim build surprised her. For some reason, she’d expected an older man.

It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Jacobs. Thank you for your time. Praying he didn’t notice how sweaty her palm was, she shook his hand.

He gestured to one of the chairs in front of his desk, and she sat. He surprised her again by taking the chair next to hers and turning it to face her. His warm smile was a stark contrast to the cold greeting she’d received from his receptionist but did little to dispel her nerves.

She brushed her hair behind her ear and dropped her hand to her lap, hoping Mr. Jacobs hadn’t noticed how badly it shook.

She’s a temp, he said conspiratorially, as if that explained everything. Well, perhaps it did, if the position Ryleigh was applying for was the one the temp now held.

I’ve gone over your resume. He opened a folder and flipped a page. Your references are quite impressive, and your work history is commendable. You’re young to have been at the same company for three years.

He frowned and thumbed through a couple of pages.

The owner of Spencer Associates had been kind enough to hire her when she’d been only fourteen years old. Her responsibilities had included filing, vacuuming, and emptying garbage pails for the company her parents had both worked for before a terrorist attack had cut their lives short.

I don’t see your graduation date listed here.

Ahh, the dreaded question. Maybe if she stayed quiet, he’d just keep talking.

Mr. Jacobs lifted his gaze from the paperwork in his lap and watched her expectantly.

Well…umm… She cleared her throat so she wouldn’t choke on the lump clogging it up.

He leaned back, resting his elbows on the arms of the chair.

Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders. I haven’t actually graduated yet, but the school is willing to work with me on a work-study program. I only need two more classes to graduate. They’ve scheduled those classes first thing in the morning, so I’ll be finished by nine o’clock. I can be here no later than nine-thirty.

He shook his head, his eyes cast down at the application in his hand.

I really need this job. Great, now she was whining. That oughta do wonders for her case.

I don’t know. Our workday starts at eight-thirty. Mr. Jacobs stood and moved behind his desk. At least he hadn’t said no. But he didn’t sit down either. That couldn’t be a good sign.

She plowed on. What did she have to lose? I’m a hard worker, and I’ll stay later to make up for the hour I’m late in the morning.

The pleading note in her voice irritated her. She was only one step away from begging and not above it if that’s what it would take to land her this job.

It’s not that. You have great references, and I’m sure you’re a hard worker, but a lot of work gets done in that first hour. Calls have to be returned, emails answered. He tossed the application onto his cluttered desk and rubbed his neck. I’m sorry, Ryleigh. I understand you need the job.

Ryleigh stood. This couldn’t be happening. With only a few months left until graduation, she didn’t want to be forced to drop out, but what else could she do? Look, Mr. Jacobs, can’t you just—

Vertigo assailed her. The room rocked, and she splayed her hands on the desk.

Mr. Jacobs grabbed the back of his chair. His eyes mirrored her panic. Books flew from the shelves. Glass shattered.

She had to get to Mia.

She turned to run, and the building bucked. She went down hard, slamming her knee into the hard wooden floor. Pain shot up her leg. She grabbed the chair to pull herself up, but the next wave threw her back down. When she tried to regain her footing, someone yanked her to the floor.

Stay down. Mr. Jacobs shoved her forward. He crawled beside her, half pushing, half dragging her toward the door.

Debris pelted her back, shoulders, and head. Tears blurred her vision.

If it’s an earthquake, it should stop any minute. Just keep crawling toward the door.

Desperately wishing she could cover her ears to block the screaming, she clawed her way forward. Her knee dragged behind her, pain pulsing with each movement. Falling apart wouldn’t help her get out of there any faster.

Ryleigh crawled through the doorway into utter chaos—people trying to push through the mess, others huddled in corners shielding their heads. An injured woman cried as she rocked back