Read Unforgettable Lover Online

Authors: Rosalie Redd

Unforgettable Lover

Contents

 

Title

Copyright

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

Epilogue

Author Newsletter

Coming Soon

Dedication

About the Author

 

 

UNFORGETTABLE LOVER

A
Worlds of Lemuria: Earth Colony
Novella

 

 

 

by

 

ROSALIE REDD

 

Copyright © March 2016 by Rosalie Redd

 

All rights reserved. The uploading, scanning, and distribution of this book in any form or by any means—including but not limited to electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the permission of the copyright holder is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized editions of this work, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated. 

 

This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.

 

For permissions contact:
[email protected]
.

 

Cover Design: Fiona Jayde Media

ISBN: 9781944419028

United States of America

Chapter One

 

A remote region in the Pacific Northwest

600 years ago

 

“Why are we here, Maman?” Leonna raised her hand to shield her eyes from the bright sunlight. 

A calm breeze filtered through the pines, whisking through the branches in a soft caress, but the familiar sound didn’t calm her nerves. On the contrary, the wind ratcheted up her excitement, her desire, her need. The prospect of participating in the Betram ritual sent a surge of adrenaline into her bloodstream. The evening’s rite was her chance to be free, if only for one night.

Maman glanced at her only daughter. Despite the scarf draped over her thin frame, the older female couldn’t hide the obvious pain evident in her stiff back. “This is a special place, Lea, one that changed my life. The Rock of Roan can change yours, too.”

“You really believe in the power of the stone?” A flutter built in Leonna’s gut.

“Roan’s rock and the sun brought your father and me together during a Betram ritual.” A familiar glimmer crossed her mother’s features, and her pale blue eyes held a radiant shine. 

A small clearing surrounded the large boulder as if the old growth trees were afraid to get too close. Moss covered the stone’s northern edge, and the rock seemed out of place, a relic of a different time. 

As Leonna approached the old sentinel, morning dew coated her toes. She glanced at the youth sandals she’d outgrown. New shoes were not an option, not with her father’s declining health. She touched the seashell in the center of her necklace. The smooth texture eased the ache in her chest, at least for the moment. With her brother, Corbin, in the tryouts for the warrior class, she was the only one to help her parents with the honey cart. Her sense of honor burned a hole in her soul, but she wouldn’t let her parents down.

Maman circled her finger in the air. “Turn around, Lea.” 

A thrilling shiver crept up Leonna’s arms.

Maman’s cool fingers caressed the back of her neck as she flipped Leonna’s braid over her shoulder. The long hair tickled the skin on her arm leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. The chain holding her most precious gift slid from around her neck, and the cherished trinket landed in her palm. The rare shell, gilded in fine gold, reflected the sunlight.

Maman had obtained the rare object in trade from one of the humans who shared the forests and lived in strange dwellings made of mud and wood. Given to her when Leonna was a child, this piece represented hope. Leonna never took the necklace off, even wearing the jewelry to bed. She felt naked without the familiar weight against her chest.

She faced her mother. “What—”

Shhhh.
Maman held a finger to her lips. Her eyes sparkled with amusement, the creases of her skin wrinkling, aging her before her time. “You must be ready for the ritual.” 

The warmth from the early morning sun already coated Leonna’s skin in a fine sheen of sweat. The temperature would soar later. Today was the first day of summer, and tonight was the full moon. The occurrence happened approximately every thirty years. The pull of the sun and the moon on the same day brought out their beast, along with the urge to mate. 

Betram was a Lemurian festival created to celebrate life and allow the beast the freedom to rut for one night without attachments, without restrictions—and to prevent the havoc that would ensue otherwise. All unbonded males and females of age were required to attend. She’d been a newb during the last ritual, too young to take part in the events. This time, at thirty-two, she was old enough. Now, she couldn’t wait to participate.

“What do you need my necklace for?” Her heart tripped at the thought of losing her precious piece.

“The energy from the sun works in tandem with the magic in the stone, infusing the gold with good luck.” Maman looked into the distance. A small smile curved her bottom lip. She placed her palm on the rock, caressing the smooth surface with her fingers as if remembering her own ritual many years ago. “Find a place that suits you, and leave the necklace there. Return before nightfall and good luck shall be yours.”

Leonna scrunched her eyebrows together. The ritual was all about releasing the beast and letting go, having fun. “But Maman…why do I need luck?” 

Maman winked at her. “Many a Stiyaha has found their mate on this night. Perhaps you will as well.”

Ugh.
Bonding to a male was not something she wanted. She’d already had one relationship that hadn’t ended well. She didn’t need another one. “Why would I want that? Males are so,” she waved her hand in the air, “demanding and possessive.” 

A thin laugh burst from her mother’s throat, startling her. “Yes, but you’ll find them alluring and hard to resist tonight.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m interested in bonding to one of them.” Leonna clenched her fist around the shell, the gold chain bouncing against the back of her fingers, teasing them with the promise of hope and love. Her heart skipped a beat, the traitorous organ giving away her innermost desire. She pursed her lips.

“If you don’t want to bond, then you won’t. The luck is the hope that you will find what you really want, be that love, courage, faith, or whatever your soul craves.” 

Find what you really want.
The words echoed in Leonna’s mind. A swell of energy made her chest expand.
I want to paint.
Her love of painting had been instilled in her from an early age. She still remembered her first brush and how she’d swayed to her own rhythm, creating her painted canvases. Others had marveled at her work, commending her for her style and attention to detail. 

A sharp pain radiated from her chest. That was before the accident. 

Leonna looked at her index finger, the one remaining digit on her right hand. She still painted, when she could get away from her responsibilities at the family honey cart. The paintings were good, but she’d lost her special touch. With a loud exhale, she bit her lip.

Maman placed a warm hand on her forearm. “My daughter, fear not. My maman did this for me at my first Betram ritual, as her maman did for her. This necklace,” she touched Leonna’s closed fist, “was made for this very occasion. I gave the shell to you on your first birthday in anticipation of tonight.” 

Leonna stared into her maman’s green eyes, moist with unshed tears. Her chest tightened at the realization of how much her maman loved her. She threw her arms around her mother’s neck. The scent of cherries filled Leonna’s senses, and her heart swelled all the more.

“Thank you, Maman,” she whispered. 

Stepping back, she studied the boulder, searching for the perfect spot. Placing the gilded shell on a small bump, she gently straightened the chain, making sure as much gold as possible absorbed the sun’s rays. She’d be back before nightfall to collect the precious gift. A lump formed in her throat. Now, if she only knew what she really wanted.

Chapter Two

 

Nicholai buttoned his pants and tightened the belt around his waist. The bare skin on his chest and arms crawled with his frustration. A sharp pulse on his shoulder caught his attention. He touched his marking for duty, the innermost circle of three. The dark line burned, a message that he would do what was expected of him. As a result, the second ring also heated as his conviction took hold. Last, but not least, his outer marking, the one for courage raged to life. He’d need all three values to get through the night.

He grabbed his button-down shirt from the back of his desk chair and threw it on. The material, made of fine cotton caressed his skin, but did nothing to calm his anxiety. A loud exhale whooshed from his lips.

He sat down on the carved wooden chair. The lumber creaked in protest, the familiar sound giving him some reprieve. Tonight was Betram, and wasn’t that grand. He clenched his teeth. As with all the unbonded males, he had to participate. Whether he wanted to or not was of no concern, and he cared not.

He gripped the edge of his boot and shoved his foot into the worn leather. The laces groaned their complaint as he cinched them tight. He put on the other shoe and repeated the process. Standing, he glanced at his sword leaning against the wall. As if sensing his interest, the blade tittered, eager for a night on the battlefield.

“Not tonight, my friend.” He shook his head and patted the dagger attached to his belt. This was his only protection this evening if he encountered any Gossum. The evil creatures were his kind’s bitter enemy in the game the gods played in their bid for Earth. Even though he was prince, and expected someday to become king of the Stiyaha, he was just another piece in their game.

He didn’t like thinking about the never-ending war. The gods and their battles were the reason they were on this planet—to fight for Earth and its precious water. If his side won, the Lemurians would trade knowledge with the humans for access to water. If they lost, the Gossum would enslave humankind, taking the water by force. 

The Gossum were a constant threat.

He was ready, but his feet remained in place. Wiping his hand over his face, he exhaled. Most males looked forward to Betram when their beast could roam free, enjoying the chance to frolic and play, but most of all, to rut with the females without any obligations. Although he longed to be like the other males, eager to partake, he dreaded the ritual. 

There was always the chance that his beast would bond him to a female. He’d had a few relationships along the way, mainly physical. Once the female started to get too close, emotionally, he’d end the affair. As a result, he’d earned the reputation of a heartbreaker. Can’t say he didn’t deserve it. 

If he could control his beast tonight, he’d take the less used option to stay in human form. He’d have to hunt a female that does the same.

Knock. Knock.

He jumped at the sound. Sunstones lining the Keep’s walls brightened, the warmth intended to sooth his jittery nerves. The underground Keep watched out for him, tending to his need for shelter and warmth as best she could. “Enter.” 

The old oak door swung open on its hinge without a sound. A cool breeze filtered in through the doorway, along with the scent of tarragon. 

Thump. Thump.
Gaetan, the Keep’s
Haelen
, their healer, and the closest friend Nicholai had, walked into the room. His cane tapped against the stone floor in a steady rhythm. His deformed leg made him lean to the left. Although he could walk without the staff, he preferred the cane for support. 

Nicholai refused to get close to any of the warriors. Making friends meant caring about someone else, and he wouldn’t risk their lives, not after losing Rand. His chest tightened at the painful memory. Gaetan couldn’t fight with his bad leg, so he never left the Keep to battle the enemy. That made him safe to befriend. Their camaraderie had grown over the years, and Nicholai didn’t know what he would do if he was responsible for any injury to his companion.

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