Chosen, p.1
Chosen, page 1
Chosen
A Dark Breed Novel
Sable Grace
Dedication
Heather~ To Missy. Sister. Friend. Thank you for being one of the first people to teach me about dreaming and what the true meaning of confidence is. You shine bright enough for us both, and I thank you for that.
And to Kyle. As always . . . The most beautiful human being I’ve ever known. If Kyana gets her happy ending, it’s only because you gave me mine.
Laura~ To daddy, for always believing in my dreams and never doubting that I’d make them come true. Thank you for choosing me to be your daughter.
And to Carmine for not really understanding this crazy thing I do, but standing beside me as I do it. I love you both!
Contents
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Chapter Thirty-four
Chapter Thirty-five
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
By Sable Grace
Copyright
About the Publisher
Chapter One
St. Augustine, Florida
She watched Haven tilt her head back and let out an unladylike shout of laughter, and everything in Kyana Aslan’s body warmed with contentment. This was how it was meant to be. The two of them, laughing—Haven sipping wine, Kyana sipping blood as they sat in front of the roaring fire in their shared home. Ah yes, in her dreams she still sipped fresh blood. There was no sickly sweet ambrosia here, thank you very much.
“And Ryker?” Haven’s dreamy image asked, the laughter shifting to seriousness. “You’re finally letting him into more places than your bed. Are you in love with him?”
Kyana wouldn’t have answered that question in the wake of day, and she sure as hell wouldn’t here, where everything was perfect. Instead, she smiled and took Haven’s glass. “You need more wine.”
“No. I—Kyana, I’m going to die.”
She froze, mid-reach toward the wine bottle. The mood of the dream shifted, darkened. Became so heavy it was as though someone had tossed black velvet over the lovely painting she’d worked so hard to create in her head. “What?”
When she glanced back, Haven was looking directly at her, her face pale, her eyes wide. The wine was gone, the coziness and warmth now a harsh cold that brought a shudder over Kyana.
“I’m going to die, Kyana . . . Cronos is coming for me. Help me! Save me!”
But as Kyana opened her mouth to offer reassurance, the flames in the fireplace formed a claw, reached through the screen, and seized Haven’s face. Her body went up in a mass of orange flames and black smoke, but it was the smell of burning flesh that snatched Kyana from her dream.
She woke with a start, her chest tight and her body coated in a slick layer of sweat. It was just a dream. Just the past weeks’ events seared into her brain and her heart. She took a deep breath, peering through the dense shadows of night in her room, relaxing as she felt Ryker stir beside her.
“It’s just a dream,” he mumbled, his arms tightening around her.
A flicker of white light shimmered at the foot of the bed. Kyana bolted upright, her hand instinctively reaching for Ryker’s arm. She blinked twice to clear her sleep-dazed vision, but it didn’t help. She could still see the illuminated face staring back at her through shimmering blond hair.
Confusion settled over her as she realized whom she was looking at. Hope. Haven’s long-dead twin sister—beaten to death at the age of seven by their own father.
“He’s coming for her,” the child sang, her blue eyes wide and glittery. “And for you. Help her.”
“What the hell is that?”
Ryker’s voice shattered the eerie silence that had followed Hope’s warning. Kyana ignored him, her heart resuming the horrible pounding that had resided there when she’d awoken.
“Who, Hope? Who is coming for Haven?”
“Him,” the child ghost said, her lips creepy pink and swollen, her eyes circled with black shadows. “She’s going to die . . . you saw it. Just now.”
“My dream—”
But as abruptly as she’d come, Hope vanished, leaving in her wake an icy chill that frosted Kyana’s breath in the air.
“What’s going on, Ky?”
Slowly, she turned to face Ryker. “You . . . you saw that, right? That wasn’t part of my dream?”
“Yeah.” He pulled her against his chest and pressed a quick kiss to the crown of her head. “I saw it.”
“I think Haven is in trouble.”
“Who was that?”
“Her twin sister.” Her heartbeat was a full orchestra now, and as Kyana slipped out of the bed and shivered her way into her goddess attire, she couldn’t tell if she was shaking from the drop in temperature or from stone-cold fear. “I was dreaming—Haven was eaten by fire, and then . . . I woke. There was Hope. I have to go.”
She was rambling but Ryker didn’t seem to have trouble following her. “She’s secure Below—at the Healing Circle. There’s no place safer in the world, Ky.”
“And yet, I’m not reassured.” So much had happened in such a short period of time that Kyana wasn’t fool enough to dismiss any instincts that popped in her gut. “If she’s fine, then all I’ve wasted is a little sleep.”
Ryker climbed out of bed to stand beside her. She could read the confusion in his eyes, but he nodded. “I’ll come with you.”
She wasn’t going to argue. She watched him dress quickly in the garb required of him as Zeus’s replacement, then headed out the door. Artemis’s temple was silent, the marble floors echoey, but far warmer than her own rooms. Kyana still didn’t feel like much of a goddess since becoming one six weeks ago, but right now, she was determined to act like one. As Artemis’s replacement, no one could stop her from doing what her instincts bade her to do. And right now, they warned her to run as quickly as she could to the portal that would take her from Olympus to the realm of magic—Below.
Ryker followed and slipped through the portal after her. Neither was winded from their sprint down the mountain, but both were silent as they jogged the cobbled roads of Below toward the Healing Circle.
While Haven was being cleansed of the evil that had possessed her, she’d been denied any visitors. Kyana hadn’t fought the decree since she hadn’t been ready to face Haven after everything she’d done. So it had been six weeks since she’d last seen her, and now Kyana was about to come face-to-face with the friend who, as of late, had become her biggest enemy.
As they reached the steps of the Healing Circle, Ryker grabbed her arm, pulling her to a stop. She tried to snatch her arm free, but he held tight.
“What?”
“Something is definitely wrong.” He pointed to the massive wooden doors. “Nothing would make a sentinel leave his post unattended.”
Panic squeezed her chest. “I saw it, Ryker. It wasn’t just a dream. There’s going to be a fire. We have to get people to safety.”
“Go find Haven. I’ll set off the alarms.”
She and Ryker separated as he ran off to ring the warning bells. Kyana sprinted through the halls, ordering everyone she saw to exit the building. She didn’t stop until she reached the stairs that would take her down to the cleansing area—a place she was familiar with because when she’d joined the Order of Ancients, she’d had to be purged of the human blood she’d been feeding on for almost two hundred years.
“There’s not much time.” Hope’s ghostly figure stood at the bottom of the stairwell, motioning Kyana forward. “Hurry.”
Kyana took the stairs two at a time, following the spirit child she had no choice but to trust. She raced past rooms that looked more like prison cells than hospital rooms and skidded to a halt in front of a single door separate from the others.
“Hurry.” Hope looked back toward the stairs. Her already ashen face shimmered, then began to fade. “There’s not much time.”
The corridor on her left was as empty as the one she stood in. Where the hell were the guards? Had they already obeyed the warning bells echoing through the halls and cleared everyone out? She immediately discarded the idea. She would have passed them.
Kyana gripped the doorknob and twisted. It didn’t budge. Taking half a step back, she slammed her shoulder into the door hard enough to make the wood vibrate, but it held its ground. Stepping back, she kicked the door with all her strength. Nothing.
“Damn it,” she yelled, pounding her fist against the magic-fortified wood. “Haven!”
A hand on her shoulder caused Kyana to spi
Kyana glared down at the small Healer who’d come out of nowhere, shaking off the woman’s touch. “Not without my friend.”
“I will personally make sure my charge is brought to safety the moment the subduing potion takes effect.”
“There’s no time for all that. We have to get out of here, all of us, right now!”
The Healer shook her head. “I’m sorry, Goddess. She’s not cleansed yet and cannot—”
“You either open this door right now or I swear to the gods I’ll use your tiny little body and knobby head as a fucking battering ram.”
The Healer’s tiny eyes widened and her hands trembled as she pulled a small pouch from the pocket of her burlap dress and sprinkled green powder on the knob. The click of the door unlocking sounded like gunfire in the empty hallway.
“Thank you,” Kyana mumbled, pushing the door open. In a second, her searching gaze took in the small room Haven had been calling home for the past six weeks. A cot, a tiny dresser and a desk, a mirror and a closet-sized bathroom, and a spellcrafting table with a small white kitten hissing in the corner. Where the hell was Haven?
She turned to question the Healer, but she’d already disappeared. Evacuated, more than likely. Kyana’s stomach did a sickening somersault. Had Haven found a way to escape?
“ ’Bout damned time.”
Kyana spun around and found the kitten gone. In its place sat Haven, naked, and looking more than slightly irritated.
“What the—”
“I was afraid Hope wouldn’t reach you in time.” Haven wrapped her arms around her bare legs.
Kyana went momentarily stupid. “There was a cat . . . Why are you—never mind. We have to go. Now.”
Haven pushed to her feet. “Glad to see I’m not going to have to talk you into letting me out of here. Let’s go.”
She snatched the blanket off the cot and wrapped it around her shoulders before making her way to the door. Kyana grabbed her by the arm. “If you try to run—”
“I won’t.” She shook off Kyana’s hold, and together they ran back up the stairs, through the prayer rooms, and into the cool night air.
The minute they stepped outside, Kyana grabbed Haven again and pulled her toward a group of sentinels securing the perimeter around the Healing Circle. She needed to find Ryker and figure out what the hell was going on. They’d barely passed between the gates when a low rumble vibrated the ground beneath their feet. Turning, she looked at the Healing Circle. Giant fingers of fire came out of the very earth to engulf the structure.
Then a shower of blue lights rained down around the property. The building collapsed onto itself and a symphony of screams shattered the night as those who’d moved too slowly were buried alive.
Chapter Two
People ran from every direction, shouting orders, trying to put out the fires, and saving those who’d been trapped inside when the Healing Circle collapsed. The injured were moved to the streets, where soot-covered Mystics tended their wounds. In the midst of it all was Ryker. He’d only been the new God of Gods for a short time, but these people were beginning to look to him for their protection.
He wasn’t letting them down.
He was so in his element that beneath the magically lit night sky, he even looked like the god everyone had counted on for millennia.
The only thing missing was his “Hera” standing at his side.
And right then, the only thing Kyana wanted was to go to him, to be his partner in all this chaos, but Haven’s chattering teeth pulled her focus back to the matter at hand. She led Haven to a somewhat secluded bench, still close enough to the sentinels that she could call for assistance should she need it.
She waited until Haven settled beside her before asking the question burning in her brain since waking to find Hope standing at the foot of her bed. “How did you know what was going to happen?”
Haven pulled her blanket more tightly around her shivering, naked body. “For six weeks I’ve tried to purge that bastard from my blood, but I can still smell him. Still feel him.”
Kyana’s muscles tensed, cramping and twisting her insides. She forced herself to breathe and to find a tone that was hopefully more Artemis than Kyana. Soothing and less demanding. “Are you feeling Cronos, or just the residual effects of his possession?”
Anger flashed in the depths of Haven’s eyes, and Kyana couldn’t blame her. So much had gone down in the last couple of months—most of which wasn’t, at the root, Haven’s fault, and yet she’d been shouldered with the majority of the blame. When Haven had been on the brink of dying from a murderous, Cronos-loving son of a bitch, Kyana had turned her against her wishes. After that, Haven hadn’t been just a Witch anymore. She’d become half Vampyre/Lychen like Kyana.
Now Kyana was neither of those things. She was just a goddess. But Haven was forced to carry all three breeds inside her still.
That immense power had led to Cronos’s possession of her. In that state, she’d been powerful enough to bring the dead god back to life, and now he was terrorizing them all from a world away.
But he was a world away. He had to be. There was no way for him to get off the island they’d left him on. Only two people had the power to travel there and back—Ryker and his father, Ares—and they were the least likely people to join the dark side.
“I thought it was just . . . whatever,” Haven said, drawing Kyana’s attention back to her. “But it’s getting stronger. Like . . . I can almost feel him breathing on me sometimes even though I know I’m alone.”
Haven ground her palms into her eyes. “I saw his lackeys come into this Circle tonight in my dreams. Saw his Mages plant charms around the building that would go off like bombs. I could feel his hatred, Kyana. I knew I was his target, and I also knew it wasn’t just a dream. I tried to warn the Healers but of course they wouldn’t believe me. So I did the only thing I could. I dreamed of Hope. I didn’t know if it would work, but I sent her to find you.”
Kyana shook her head. She didn’t dispute that Haven had seen or felt something but it couldn’t have been Cronos. Yes, the ancient god had risen from the grave. But he couldn’t get to them . . .
“He’s trapped on that island, Haven. How could he get people to do his bidding?”
Haven glared at her. “He managed well enough when he was dead. Do you really think it’s more of a challenge now that he’s alive?”
Kyana swallowed. Touché.
Even though he’d been dead for millennia, Cronos had been able to possess others to do his bidding. Others who’d murdered those meant to replace the gods as their powers faded, like Haven, who’d been Artemis’s first choice as the new Goddess of the Hunt and had been nearly killed because of it.
“When we left that island,” Haven continued, “I felt like he was in the port with us. I’ve tried to convince myself that it was nothing, tried to get him out of my head, but . . . after this . . . I know he got off. I know what I’ve been seeing is real.”
Kyana stiffened. She’d felt something strange during that port too—something she hadn’t thought to mention to anyone. Hell, she’d pretty much forgotten the strange pull she’d felt until now. But at Haven’s reminder, the memory was suddenly fresh again, the fear returning with a sickening twist to her gut.
She tried to steady her breathing. “What did you feel? In the port, I mean.”
“Him. His hand on my arm. His breath on my neck.” Haven turned and watched Kyana closely. “He’s not trapped on that damned island. He’s here. In our world. And every day that passes, he’s getting stronger.”
A hysterical sob burst from Haven and she shook her head. “I don’t know where he is exactly or what he’s up to, but I do know that he’s back. He’s really, really pissed off, and there are two people in this world he wants to make suffer while he waits for his chance to reclaim his throne. Me . . . and you.”
