Aurora's Promise

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Authors: Eve Jameson

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An Ellora’s Cave Romantica
Publication

www.ellorascave.com

 

 

Aurora’s Promise

 

ISBN 9781419921858

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Aurora’s Promise Copyright© 2009 Eve Jameson

 

Edited by Briana St. James

Photography and cover art by Les Byerley

 

Electronic book Publication July 2009

 

 

The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of
Ellora’s Cave Publishing.

 

With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not
be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without
written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056
Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

 

Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this
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distributed 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
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(http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or
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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons,
living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The
characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

Aurora’s Promise
Eve Jameson

Trademarks Acknowledgement

 

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark
owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

 

BMW: Bayerische Motoren Werke Aktiengesellschaft

Captain America: Marvel Entertainment Group, Inc.

Diet Coke: The Coca-Cola Company

La Perla: Dalmas S.P.A.

Scrunchie: L & N Sales and Marketing, Inc.

Star Wars: Lucasfilm Ltd.

Starbucks: Starbucks U.S. Brands

Stoneware: Fort James Operating Company

Superman: DC Comics

Toyota: Toyota Motor Corporation

Twilight Zone
: CBS Broadcasting Inc.

 

Chapter One

 

Connyn crossed his arms over his chest and planted himself
in the middle of the sidewalk, forcing the stream of holiday tourists to walk
around him. “I don’t like this. This is too open.” He stood on the edge of San
Antonio’s Riverwalk and glared at a woman who had backed into him while trying
to take a picture of three other laughing women. When she turned around to
apologize, she stuttered to a stop, her wide-eyed stare focused on his chest.
Slowly her gaze moved upward and then without warning, she brought her camera
up and snapped a picture of him instead.

With a curse, he jerked his head back and tried to rub the
sudden flash-blindness from his eyes.

“You could try to fit in so people wouldn’t stare,” Amdyn
said and then, not trying to hide his smirk, “or take pictures.”

Connyn ignored his cousin’s jibe and looked around at the
crowded café tables that lined the pedestrian walkways. Why someone would be
interested in taking his picture when there were floating barges in the canal
with all sorts of bizarrely dressed people waving and vying for attention was
beyond him.

What was it in this country with old men parading around in
red-and-white suits when it got cold? Some customs he just would never
understand and he sure as hell was not going to stick around this planet until
his hair turned white and they tried to put one of those outfits on him. One
more reason he was more than ready to get out of this world with its constantly
changing climates and back to Ilyria with the cool breezes at night and warm,
sunny days. Every day.

He shook his waist-length hair over his shoulder and used
the two long, thin warrior braids hanging from his temples to tie back his
light brown mane. Unlike his cousins, he refused to let the years they’d spent
in this world pry from him ancient traditions he’d embraced as a youth. He was
not of this world and there were only so many concessions he was willing to
make to fit in here while looking for his missing mate.

He glanced over at Amdyn. Though their hair and eye coloring
might differ, in size and basic features the descendants of each of the five
Royal Houses of Ilyria all resembled one other to a certain extent. But he and
his four cousins, who each held the title of Eldest Heir of his individual House,
bore a similarity that ran much deeper than outward appearances. They were all
desperate to find their mates and complete the prophecy required by the gods to
break the curse that had plagued their people for centuries. Being Eldest Heir
of the Third House and in the direct line of the House that had been
instrumental to bringing the curse to his world, the drive to remove it had
settled especially heavily onto his shoulders.

The women they sought were from one of the last families of
Mystics and key to completing the prophecy, but they had disappeared from their
homeworld over twenty-five years ago. During a particular vicious Sleht attack,
Magdalyne and her daughters fled through an unmanned portal, leaving behind few
clues to track them by. For a quarter of a century he and his kin had
relentlessly searched portals, worlds and countries and several months ago
their efforts had been rewarded when two of the sisters had been found. Only
the oldest and youngest of Magdalyne’s daughters were still missing, Magdalyne
herself having died soon after they left Ilyria.

Though the three eldest had been officially matched to his
cousins before the attack, the youngest had disappeared before the Matching
Ritual could be completed. That was the daughter he would claim. She was the
last known full-blooded unmatched Mystic from their homeworld and he would make
her his. Finding Amdyn’s mate in this crowd was one more step to completing
that goal since they had good reason to believe that Ellyna knew the location
of her youngest sister.

His whatever-it-takes attitude regularly stepped on some
toes but lately the tension had been building more than normal between Connyn
and his cousins. The simple fact was that there were four daughters and five
Heirs and time was running out on the prophecy. Though some of his cousins were
as close as brothers, Connyn had always held himself apart, unwilling to let
even a friendship distract him from fulfilling his family’s role in Ilyria’s
destiny.

Muffling an impatient growl, Connyn side-stepped around a
couple who had stopped in the middle of the walkway to video a decorated barge
as it floated by. His shoulder brushed a tree trunk and dislodged a line of
twinkling Christmas lights that landed on his arm. Shaking them off, he
wondered whatever could possess people to string thousands of lights and
decorations over and around every damn thing that didn’t get up and walk away.
The only good thing he could see about this place was that at least here in
Texas he wasn’t freezing his ass off waist deep in snow like he’d been in
Colorado.

Connyn’s gaze traveled over the crowd, snagging on the
occasional redhead and wondering if she were the one Amdyn looked for.
Frustration pounded under his skin with every step he took. They should know
more. Amdyn, eldest Heir of the First House, was a full telepath who had been
linked to the oldest daughter, Ellyna, at their Matching Ritual over thirty
years ago at Ellyna’s first birthday. However Ellyna had been in this world for
a quarter of a century and her thoughts could slip like quicksilver through
Amdyn’s mind. The mental connection would be strong enough one moment, her
thoughts as clear to Amdyn as his own, and the next moment nothing.

It was during one of those short moments of clarity that
Amdyn had discovered she planned on meeting some friends here at a local
restaurant for dinner tonight. He sure as hell hoped Amdyn had gotten his
information correct. Connyn ducked his head to avoid a low-hanging branch
dripping with more of the garish lights and muttered a curse. Though there were
things he could appreciate about this world, tourist traps were not one of them.

“There.” Amdyn’s deep voice cut through Connyn’s thoughts
and the holiday throng. He motioned to Jordyn, the commander in charge of the military
unit assisting the Royals on their hunt. He’d been flanking their position and
now moved to support their movements from a hidden vantage point.

Connyn followed his cousin’s gaze to two women sitting at an
open-air table. As crowded as the restaurant was, it surprised him that they
had been seated at a table set for four. It also surprised him that the woman
Amdyn had pointed out didn’t fit the description they’d been using all these
years. The woman who faced them was tall with curly blonde hair . He could only
see the other woman from the back, but she had long black hair and was equally
as tall, or perhaps even taller, than Amdyn’s mate.

“Are you sure?” Connyn asked. “None of the Mystics have ever
had anything but red hair and green eyes.”

Amdyn didn’t answer but moved through the swathe of humanity
with the intent of a heat-seeking missile locked on a fireball. Connyn looked
around to see which position Jordyn had taken up, but the soldier had melted
into the crowd. No doubt he could see them perfectly though. He and Jordyn had
nearly come to blows not long ago and because of that situation, Connyn had
been against the decision to bring him along. But as this was Amdyn’s matched
mate they were officially tracking and Amdyn was the Heir to the First House,
there wasn’t really much he could do about it.

The blonde smiled at the woman in front of her and Connyn
could all but feel the electricity that surged through his cousin.

She looked up and saw them heading toward her table. Her
smile froze. He wasn’t sure what he saw in her eyes. Surprise. Fear.
Acceptance. They all seemed to fly over her features in the brief seconds
before she blinked, turned away and said something to the woman she was with.

By now, Amdyn was beside the table. The way he was looking
at Ellyna, there could be bombs exploding and buildings crashing and he doubted
his cousin would notice. He’d never seen Amdyn so intense. Considering the man’s
natural demeanor was as focused as a laser, that was saying something.

“Ellyna.”

She tilted her head up to look at Amdyn and Connyn could
clearly see the resemblance between her and the other two Mystic daughters they’d
already located. Up close, her eyes were the same deep, Ilyrian-sea green as
her sisters and there was just a hint of dark red roots at the base of her
blonde hair.

With a slight nod, she acknowledged Amdyn. “It’s been a long
time.”

“You were expecting me?”

“Of course. I told you where I’d be.”

Amdyn’s eyes narrowed. “You
told
me?”

Ellyna gestured toward the empty chairs. “Please sit down.
People are starting to stare.”

“I don’t like this. It’s too exposed.” Amdyn spared a glance
to a rowdy group of college-age couples who’d had too much to drink and were
talking to each other at a volume that suggested they all had cotton in their
ears. “Let’s go.”

The woman sitting across from Ellyna tilted her head to look
up at Amdyn and said, “You were right, Ellen. They are big and bossy.”

“Ellen?” Amdyn asked, irritation clear in his tone. “I
prefer your true name. Ellyna.”

Ellyna shrugged nonchalantly and reached for a cell phone
that had been sitting on the table. “Whatever. Friends call me Ellen now,” she
said, dropping the phone into her purse.

Connyn stepped around to the other side of the table so that
he could better see the woman who was speaking to Ellyna. “Who are you?” he
demanded.

She turned her head around to look up at him, her dark brown
eyes flashing with intelligence and inquiry. Something dark and possessive
slithered through him. A reaction to her that came from such a primitive level,
there was no modern expression adequate for the explanation. Only a single word
burned through his consciousness—
mine.

Before the woman could answer his question, Ellyna spoke up.
“This is Aurora. She’s my sister.”

“Esraina?” he asked.

“I prefer and answer to Aurora.” The woman’s dark eyes
flashed, but her smile was polite. Barely. “And you are?”

“Connyn Kilth. Heir to the Third Royal House of Ilyria.” He
frowned down at the woman. “I thought all Magdalyne’s daughters were supposed
to have red hair and green eyes.”

“I thought the men from Ilyria were supposed to be arrogant
assholes.” Aurora smiled sweetly up at Connyn. “Good to know at least one of us
was right.”

A small hand shot out from a rolled up blanket on the woman’s
lap and slapped the table. Aurora cooed into the pink material and shifted the
bundle. A curly-haired child gurgled up at her, reaching for her face. Aurora
bent down and kissed the baby’s fingertips.

The earth under Connyn’s feet shook. The air became too
thick to drag into his lungs. “Is that a child?” he asked.

Aurora’s eyes, bright with laughter, lifted to his. “And
here I thought all of you Royal Heirs were blessed with magic powers. Obviously
yours isn’t the gift of sight.”

Connyn glanced at Amdyn, wondering if he had known about the
child and chosen not to share that information, but his cousin looked surprised
as well. “Is the child yours?” The question came out too harsh, but his mate’s
first child should be with him.
All
of his mate’s children should be
his.

“And if she is?” The challenge was clear in Aurora’s biting
tone and suddenly frosty stare.

“Where’s the father?” His voice had turned to ice along with
his blood.

A shadow of stark grief clouded Aurora’s face. “He’s dead.”

“I am sorry for your loss.”

Aurora nodded stiffly. “Thank you.”

“Ellyna,” Amdyn said, his voice straining against
impatience, “it’s time to leave.”

She looked up at him and smiled. Folded her hands in her
lap. “No.”

Tension tightened the corners of Amdyn’s eyes. Connyn
watched him struggle with the natural urge to pick his woman up and simply take
her to where she was supposed to be. With her mate. In Ilyria. Safe.

He glanced at Aurora and had to stifle the same compulsion.

Ellyna gestured to the empty chairs. “Please, have a seat.
There are things we need to discuss.”

“We should move to a safer place,” Amdyn said.

“You mean a more private place?”

Connyn frowned at the sarcastic tone in Ellyna’s voice. It
was obvious she was going to be difficult. He turned to Aurora who had just set
the squirming toddler down to stand beside the table and asked, “Do you
understand the danger you’re in? You should not be so exposed, so unprotected.”

“And your only concern is our safety?” Ellyna’s sharp
response had two people at the next table turning toward them.

Amdyn grabbed a chair and sat down. Leaning toward his mate,
he lowered his voice. “You know you must return with us—”

“Eventually. I’m not ready yet. There are things—”

“Nothing is more important than returning to your homeworld
and fulfilling your duty to your people,” Connyn interrupted.

“Jeez,” said Aurora. “Take a chill pill, Captain America.
And for heaven’s sake, stop glowering and sit down. It’s not like we’re going
to make a break for it before dessert.”

The child turned and started to wander away from the table.
Aurora leaned over and caught her by the sleeve of her jacket. As she sat back
up, tugging the child closer again, the neckline of her gray sweater gaped and
Connyn got a glimpse of full breasts and black lace. Desire snaked its way
through his veins and Amdyn wasn’t the only one impatient to get his woman
somewhere much more private.

Abruptly Ellyna stiffened, her face paled to a stark white
and her bright green eyes widened in fear as she twisted her head side to side,
looking for something.

“You brought them with you!” she hissed.

“What’s wrong?” Aurora looked around, trying to pinpoint
what had alarmed Ellyna.

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