Read Betrayal's Price (In Deception's Shadow Book 1) Online
Authors: Lisa Blackwood
Betrayal's Price (In Deception's Shadow Book 1)
Betrayal’s Price
By:
Lisa Blackwood
Betrayal’s Price © 2015 by Lisa Blackwood
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be
reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or
mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage
and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are
fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, or events, is
coincidental and not intended by the author.
Cover Art © 2015 by Lisa Blackwood
First eBook Edition *March 2011
Back Cover
Betrayal’s Price
For some,
rebirth is not a reward.
Centuries
ago the gods demanded Ashayna Stonemantle sacrifice her demon-tainted lover.
She did, and then ended her own life, but it didn't fulfill her obligations to
the gods.
Reborn into a new body, Ashayna has no awareness
of her former life until her sentient magic manipulates her into seeking out
Sorntar, Crown Prince of the Phoenix. The majestic and charismatic Sorntar
reveals that she is host to a Larnkin—a spirit creature of vast power. If she
can trust the word of a man who is part avian, he is host to her Larnkin's
other half. When their Larnkins awaken early and force them into an unbreakable
bond, Ashayna and Sorntar are accused of being corrupted by an ancient evil. To
prove their innocence, they must discover what happened in the past to pit
bondmate against bondmate. As the search for the truth draws them closer
together, Ashayna realizes she's falling in love with Sorntar. But before she
can tell him, his tainted Larnkin enslaves him. The gods demand she kill her
beloved, as she did once before, but she will not do it, even if it's the only
thing that will keep her soul safe from his darkness.
Other books
by
Lisa Blackwood
The Avatars
Stone’s Kiss
Stone’s Song
Stone’s Divide (Fall 2015)
Stone’s War (Forthcoming Spring 2016)
In Deception’s Shadow
Betrayal’s Price
Herd Mistress
Death’s Queen (Forthcoming Summer 2015)
City of Burning Water (Forthcoming Fall 2016)
Warships of the Spir
e
Vengeance (Fall 2015)
Ashayna
shivered at the slow tickle of moisture down her back. The day had dawned
unusually humid for so early in the spring. Still, her discomfort had little to
do with the heat and everything to do with the stomach-souring dread currently tying
her in knots.
Glancing down
at the tracks she’d been following since dawn, Ashayna frowned. Her anxiety
spiraled up another notch as an unseen force guided her mare around a pile of
deadfall, taking the same path as the tracks. Lupwyns had increased their
raiding in recent days, and she’d seen similar sights on other scouting
missions. At first glance, this set of prints was ordinary enough, but it didn’t
explain why she couldn’t set one foot in any direction but forward.
Lord-Master
Trensler and his acolytes would be quick to label what forced her onward as ‘demonic
magic’—the darkest of evils. If she had to call it something, she preferred the
name ‘sentience.’ It was somewhat less dire than calling herself demon
possessed. A chill swept down her spine at the thought. Naming it didn’t help
her out of her current predicament, nor did it explain how she’d become
possessed in the first place, or why the sentience was so interested in this
particular lupwyn’s tracks.
Time to test
fate again
. Her stomach twisted as she exerted her
will against the sentience and reined in Swiftrunner. Her mare halted with a
questioning flick of one ear. Ashayna sought a calm place in her mind while she
waited. It didn’t take long for the reaction she had come to anticipate.
Spreading out
like ripples on a pond, waves of hot and cold washed over her, flowing down her
arms all the way to her fingertips while other tendrils reached out for the
rest of her body. Power. Magic. Heresy
.
It wouldn’t be long before iron
bands of pressure forced her into obedience like it had the last four times she’d
stopped or turned away from the tracks.
“Fine. You want
me to follow these damned tracks?” Ashayna challenged the sentience. “I’ll
follow them.” With a huff she dismounted and glared at the prints. “But my
horse isn’t going to become some lupwyn’s evening meal.”
She started up
the trail, one slow step at a time. With each one, the sentience loosened its
hold by small degrees, much like a snake uncoiling from its lifeless kill. A
shaky breath escaped her. “I am a Stonemantle. I am not afraid of you—whatever
you are. I. Am. Not. Afraid.” She wasn’t certain if she believed herself, and
doubted the sentience believed her either.
Pressing the
heel of her palm against her forehead, she tried to stave off the beginnings of
a headache left over from the rapid departure of so much power. It probably
wouldn’t work, but at least the sentience was content. For now.
Ignoring the
grasping fingers of the wind, she pushed errant strands of hair back from her
face. Much like the wind, the sentience was unpredictable and dangerous–and
just as persistent.
Ahead, the
prints veered off the path, sloping towards where she could hear the soft
rumble of a stream. A hemlock’s expansive branches obscured her view. With a
muttered curse, she ducked under the wet foliage. The stench of rotting
vegetation rose up to swirl through her nostrils. Prickles of anger danced
along her control when her feet slipped from beneath her and she slid to an
ungraceful heap next to the water’s edge.
The sensation
of being herded hadn’t ebbed completely. She gritted her teeth, wanting to
strike out at something, tired of feeling helpless. But fighting, yelling, or
sobbing wouldn’t do her a lick of good. Answers were what she needed most, and
the only way to get those was to continue on the path the sentience chose. She
flexed her fingers to stop their shaking. She just hoped her own personal curse
didn’t get her killed by a lupwyn. Or worse, burned alive. A shudder raced over
her at the thought of the punishment awaiting her at the hands of her own
people, should her demonic possession be revealed—maybe it would be better to
be a lupwyn’s dinner after all.
Hunkered on her
heels she appraised the ground. Ignoring the icy mud and moisture seeping
between her boot laces, she sank ankle deep into the quagmire. The tracks didn’t
disappear into the water; rather, a little ways north of her position, three
sets of tracks now marred the mud.
She crouched
next to the new tracks and skimmed her fingertips along them with a light
touch, afraid the saturated soil would collapse. Embedded alongside the
familiar prints of a lupwyn was a much rarer track. Human-like, the prints had
three elongated forward-facing toes and a thicker, heavier digit at the rear.
Each ended in a deep gouge mark where talons had sunk into the soil.
Sticking a
finger in the icy water she measured the depth. A low whistle escaped when her
fist touch the mud before her finger reached the bottom.
“Damn big
talons.” Though she’d never seen their likeness, she knew these were made by a
phoenix. They fit the sketchy descriptions she’d heard soldiers whisper about
when the acolytes weren’t near.
Was this what
the sentience wanted her to find?
She glanced up,
scanning the stream and its bordering trees. Their branches far enough apart, a
phoenix flying overhead might be able to navigate between them to land safely
in the water.
A phoenix here?
This new
development explained the increased lupwyn patrols she’d been evading. This was
the closest the enemy had ever come to the vast city of River’s Divide. What if
they were mobilizing for an organized attack?
She prowled
along the stream, scanning the ground for more clues. A few steps from where
the phoenix tracks first emerged from the water, something glimmered in the
dappled light filtering through the canopy. Ashayna edged closer until the
mystery resolved itself into a bit of silver and a bright slash of indigo.
Reaching down, she plucked the silver chain from the mud.
An indigo feather
the length of her hand dangled from a silver clasp. Frowning, she stroked a
finger down its silken length. A surprisingly pleasant scent, reminiscent of
heat, spice, and the crisp fresh air of a mountain plateau, tickled her senses.
And it wasn’t
the only thing tickling her senses. An alarmingly familiar mix of heat and cold
was stirring in her blood again, tightening its bands of control. Numbness
spread across her palms. Her fingers tingled with a frosty ache. When she tried
to drop the necklace, her hand wouldn’t obey.
Even as she
backed up the slope to solid ground, the hairs on the back of her neck stood.
Desire rose, so strong it robbed her of her breath. Power radiated out like
tentacles. Not again, she moaned at the sudden rise of the sentience.
Like a hound on
a scent, it flowed below her skin, alternately caressing, and then probing
forcibly at her mental barriers. A second wave of energy crashed against her
shields, buckling them. The sentience invaded her mind. Where fear and desire
had been its favorite tool, it now flooded her with joy. Delight, elation…those
feelings seemed too small, too insignificant to encompass what she felt beneath
her skin, within her mind. Her possession was now complete—every sense was
alive with the feelings, even as she watched it from afar. Almost against her
will, her hands looped the medallion around her neck.
Silvery flames
burst to life along her arms to pool between her hands. It didn’t hurt. Agony
she could have dealt with, this…this new sense of rapture was so much worse.
A cloud
appeared in the air, to hover an arm’s length from her. Faint as smoke, it
thickened, swirling and rolling like fog. Churning and spinning, colors danced
until it had grown in size.
Vivid greens,
muted greys, sun-bleached whites. They formed a stone courtyard adorned with
fountains, statues, and lush foliage. Then darker whorls of indigo mixed with
lustrous browns, coalescing into an exotically handsome man. He was tall,
bronze-skinned, bare-chested, and wore some kind of bright, indigo-colored
cloak. The cloud of magic spun itself larger, revealing more of the man. Oh, it
wasn’t a cloak. He had…wings. Not a man at all, this must be a phoenix. She
glanced at the indigo feather hanging from the necklace, then lifted her gaze
to what—or rather who—might be the source of the feather. While she’d spent a
dumbfounded moment staring down at the feather in her hand, he’d turned, his
back now to her as he looked out over a stone-tiled courtyard. His fingers
tapped against his thigh in clear agitation. From behind, he looked less human.
A stiff breeze
ruffled his crest feathers into disarray and plastered a long, fan-shaped tail
against his calves. He whirled around, whipping his tail out of the way, and
paced in her direction. She focused on his face. His strong brow, well-defined
cheekbones, and firm jaw surpassed human beauty. Still, the intensity of his gaze
would give a wise woman pause. She wasn’t sure if his frown was a normal
fixture or just a reflection of some inner conflict.
Her gaze roamed
his broad shoulders, down the naked expanse of his muscular chest to his waist
where a paneled-leather kilt hung low on his hips. He truly was majestic,
exuding a sense of contained power in his every move.
“Hmm, perhaps I’m
not the wisest of women.”
She sighed,
mentally pushing aside the faint hint of longing. There would be no place for
such feelings. It was war, and those who commanded armies had already decided
their species would be adversaries. “Yes, he’s attractive, but you must have
other reasons for revealing him to me.”
Magic swirled
faster through her blood. “Guess that’s a yes.”
Wincing at the
throb in her head, she concentrated on his image.
He paced in a
semi-circle, his frown deepening as he searched his surroundings. When his gaze
locked onto something in her direction, tension rippled along her spine and
lodged between her shoulder blades. Graceful, predatory he stalked toward her
and swiped the air. Nothing happened. He continued to look perplexed, his
feathered brows furrowing into a frown.
Sweat dampened
her skin in a sudden cold flush; her breath grew shallow. Ashayna scooped a
handful of debris and heaved it at him. It flew through the image and smacked
into a tree trunk behind it. Was it just a vision?
His expression
turned thoughtful. Tilting his head to one side, he closed his eyes. His lips
moved, shaping unknown words. Instantly, the sentience flared in response,
sending a wave of its foreign wanting through her. She clamped her will down,
determined she wouldn’t be enslaved. A rush of power surged through her mind,
expanding out, breaking past her control. For one horrifying moment she felt
her body gathering itself to move closer to the strange window, but blessed and
merciful Creator, something distracted the phoenix from his work. He looked
over his shoulder to someone behind him, just out of Ashayna’s range of view.
The outer edges of the magic window blurred, softening...until, one tendril at
a time, the cloud destabilized and vanished.
With the
disappearance of the window, the wellspring of the sentience’s chaotic magic
slowed, its attacks less focused. Slowly, its chilled touch receded from her
mind and followed her blood vessels back to her heart, where the sentience
coiled in upon itself. She sucked in a surprised breath and flexed her fingers
to restore circulation.
Was the strange
window to some distant place really gone?
Ashayna hugged
herself, cold down to her soul. Shivers started in her arms and fingered their
way down her back. Even her knees shook. A pulse pounded in her head. The ground
heaved uneasily to her eyes.
Woozy, she
slammed a shoulder into a nearby tree for support. Rough bark bit into her
back, grating against her leather vest as she slid to the ground. Pine scent
engulfed her. Her hair snagged in the bark and tangled in the small drops of
pitch leaking out of fissures.
Lowering her
head, she pressed her forehead against her knees. “I’m a Stonemantle, I don’t
cry, I will not disappoint my father. I can deal with this. I
will
deal
with this.” She inhaled slowly, forcing her breath through her nose and willed
her heart to calm.
Something
nudged against her hip. A strangled sound, half grunt, half yell, burst from
Ashayna’s throat. Swiftrunner shoved at Ashayna a second time, continuing her
quest for one of the few patches of grass struggling to grow in the dense shade.
A shaky laugh escaped her. She shifted her knees and the mare snatched up a
mouthful of greens.
When Ashayna’s
body shivered as her sweat cooled, she reached for the new weight around her
neck. Wind caught at the feather, making it dance on the end of its silver
chain. From the coloring this feather belonged to the phoenix she’d just seen
in her vision. It seemed the sentience was very interested in making his
acquaintance.
She closed her
fist above the delicate clasp and brought her other hand up to stroke the
feather. Its strangely familiar scent wafted around her. Gently she tucked the
feather under her vest, ignoring her first instinct to rip it from her neck.
After all, she might find a use for the necklace at some point, and it seemed
to pacify the sentience.