Heirs of Aeden
Our World-Our Garden-Our Aeden
Broken Prophecy
Book I of the series. This is Killian and Marcella's story.
Only Killian’s bloodline was created with the planet. No other can accept the Seal and no human can carry the seed to bear the Heirs of Aeden.
Killian, King of the Fey, is in love with Marcella Rowan, human and forbidden to his kind. An errant Angel, seeking revenge, awakens creatures thought long dead or mythological. Marcella’s life in danger and against the Divine Council’s orders, Killian saves her from death—by claiming her as his soulmate. As earthly and other-earthly creatures polarize toward good or evil, Marcella and Killian must survive the forces driving them apart. Only their love can unite the worlds of magick and mundane. Only their love can force their peoples to put aside bigotry, jealousy and fear to overcome the evil tearing the earth apart. Only the magick they make together can repopulate earth’s garden in Aeden.
Check out more fabulous authors at Soul Mate Publishing. www.soulmatepublishing.com
Only Killian’s bloodline was created with the planet. No other can accept the Seal and no human can carry the seed to bear the Heirs of Aeden.
Killian, King of the Fey, is in love with Marcella Rowan, human and forbidden to his kind. An errant Angel, seeking revenge, awakens creatures thought long dead or mythological. Marcella’s life in danger and against the Divine Council’s orders, Killian saves her from death—by claiming her as his soulmate. As earthly and other-earthly creatures polarize toward good or evil, Marcella and Killian must survive the forces driving them apart. Only their love can unite the worlds of magick and mundane. Only their love can force their peoples to put aside bigotry, jealousy and fear to overcome the evil tearing the earth apart. Only the magick they make together can repopulate earth’s garden in Aeden.
Check out more fabulous authors at Soul Mate Publishing. www.soulmatepublishing.com
Broken Prophecy, excerpt.
She tried to back away from him, sliding on the frozen ground. Her whole body shook with cold and fear. Desperation raked a cold hand through
her chest as he planted a foot on either side of her legs and knelt to sit on her thighs. She rolled, but wasn’t fast enough. He caught a wrist in each hand and held her to the earth.
“You cannot get away from me. There is no one to help you. Even after I have had my fill of you, we are so far away he will not think to look
here.” Joran’s words took on a husky tone as he viewed her peaked nipples through her thin shirt.
Adrenaline fueled by fear surged into her, giving her strength.
She bucked and twisted her wrists free. She swung both fists at him. He leaned back and she missed him completely. Yelling, she brought one leg up and kicked him in the head. On the down-stroke, her heel caught one shimmering blue wing and he tumbled backward off of her. She scrambled unsteadily to her feet.
He swore in a language she didn’t recognize.
“You will tell me where we are then you will leave,” Marcella said, using her ‘voice’, proud of herself that it held steady. She inhaled and
cried out, a hand going to the right side of her chest.
The sharp pain told her she’d broken at least one rib.
“The mountains of your ancestors.” He shook his head. “Your magick is nothing compared to mine. And when the shield is gone, humans will
again be fodder to my whims.”
She struggled to remember her geography. The mountains of her ancestors? “Humans will have ten times the magick when the shield is gone. We’ll be able to fight you.”
“Not nearly enough,” he said, closing on her once again. “And not in time for you.”
He held out his palm to her and darts of light from all around gathered in his open palm. Suddenly a shaft of light shot from his hand and hit
her square in the chest. It lifted her off her feet and propelled her into a tree.
The breath rushed from her and the back of her head cracked on the tree. She couldn’t feel anything anymore, but she was sure she had a
concussion as she fought to remain conscious. Where was Grandmama from? Romania. What were those mountains? Her sluggish mind couldn’t think. Ural? Carpathian? No. Apuseni Mountains. She was in the Apuseni Mountains of Romania, where her grandmother was from.
She was in the Apuseni Mountains? God, he was right. No one would ever find her. Grief and despair slipped around her like a glove, settling
in her heart and mind. She’d never told Killian how she felt. Knowing she would die while Killian believed the lie hurt worse than her physical injuries.
Joran reached her. Grabbing her throat, he lifted and pinned her against the tree. The bark scraped her back through her shirt. Her numb body no longer registered the pain.
“I will enjoy this more than you can know, but I want you conscious. I want to see the knowledge in your eyes when I take you,” Joran
said.
“Go to hell.” It was the only response Marcella managed to croak out while she clawed at the fingers digging into her neck. She had survived what Marc had done and she’d survive this too.
He leaned close to her face. “Hell is what others create for us and I already live there.” He laughed. It was a bitter, brittle sound. “Killian
only thought he had me imprisoned. I have many friends who are sympathetic to our purpose.”
Light exploded around them.
Suddenly she was free and fell to the ground in a heap. She coughed, bringing a hand up to massage her aching neck.
“Your sick mind broadcasts your intentions, Joran. She is mine.”
Killian’s voice flooded her with relief so profound she choked on a sob that worked its way out of her sore throat as tears spilled from her
eyes. Her gaze met his for a moment as he towered over Joran.
She tried to back away from him, sliding on the frozen ground. Her whole body shook with cold and fear. Desperation raked a cold hand through
her chest as he planted a foot on either side of her legs and knelt to sit on her thighs. She rolled, but wasn’t fast enough. He caught a wrist in each hand and held her to the earth.
“You cannot get away from me. There is no one to help you. Even after I have had my fill of you, we are so far away he will not think to look
here.” Joran’s words took on a husky tone as he viewed her peaked nipples through her thin shirt.
Adrenaline fueled by fear surged into her, giving her strength.
She bucked and twisted her wrists free. She swung both fists at him. He leaned back and she missed him completely. Yelling, she brought one leg up and kicked him in the head. On the down-stroke, her heel caught one shimmering blue wing and he tumbled backward off of her. She scrambled unsteadily to her feet.
He swore in a language she didn’t recognize.
“You will tell me where we are then you will leave,” Marcella said, using her ‘voice’, proud of herself that it held steady. She inhaled and
cried out, a hand going to the right side of her chest.
The sharp pain told her she’d broken at least one rib.
“The mountains of your ancestors.” He shook his head. “Your magick is nothing compared to mine. And when the shield is gone, humans will
again be fodder to my whims.”
She struggled to remember her geography. The mountains of her ancestors? “Humans will have ten times the magick when the shield is gone. We’ll be able to fight you.”
“Not nearly enough,” he said, closing on her once again. “And not in time for you.”
He held out his palm to her and darts of light from all around gathered in his open palm. Suddenly a shaft of light shot from his hand and hit
her square in the chest. It lifted her off her feet and propelled her into a tree.
The breath rushed from her and the back of her head cracked on the tree. She couldn’t feel anything anymore, but she was sure she had a
concussion as she fought to remain conscious. Where was Grandmama from? Romania. What were those mountains? Her sluggish mind couldn’t think. Ural? Carpathian? No. Apuseni Mountains. She was in the Apuseni Mountains of Romania, where her grandmother was from.
She was in the Apuseni Mountains? God, he was right. No one would ever find her. Grief and despair slipped around her like a glove, settling
in her heart and mind. She’d never told Killian how she felt. Knowing she would die while Killian believed the lie hurt worse than her physical injuries.
Joran reached her. Grabbing her throat, he lifted and pinned her against the tree. The bark scraped her back through her shirt. Her numb body no longer registered the pain.
“I will enjoy this more than you can know, but I want you conscious. I want to see the knowledge in your eyes when I take you,” Joran
said.
“Go to hell.” It was the only response Marcella managed to croak out while she clawed at the fingers digging into her neck. She had survived what Marc had done and she’d survive this too.
He leaned close to her face. “Hell is what others create for us and I already live there.” He laughed. It was a bitter, brittle sound. “Killian
only thought he had me imprisoned. I have many friends who are sympathetic to our purpose.”
Light exploded around them.
Suddenly she was free and fell to the ground in a heap. She coughed, bringing a hand up to massage her aching neck.
“Your sick mind broadcasts your intentions, Joran. She is mine.”
Killian’s voice flooded her with relief so profound she choked on a sob that worked its way out of her sore throat as tears spilled from her
eyes. Her gaze met his for a moment as he towered over Joran.