Lunaria (A Soulmark Series Finale), page 1
Lunaria
A Soulmark Series Finale
by Rebecca Main
www.RebeccaMain.com
http://www.ViaGraphia.com
© 2020 Via Graphia. All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Epilogue
20 Years Later
Connect with Rebecca
Acknowledgments
Previously
A roughened palm and fingers seized Lunaria's wrist, and the fairy shrieked in surprise. Her regard lashed back to the figure on the ground to see the man's dark eyes cracked open. Lunaria sucked in a sharp breath as her violet eyes clashed with the stranger's own abysses of black. No, she thought with great fear striking her body still. His grip belayed a dangerous aura, one Lunaria knew all too well…
Chapter 1
Fear.
It numbs my body like a cold shock to the system. The eyes that stare back at me are filled with the hunt.
My mouth runs dry.
The human realm I've come to know, with all its beautiful chaos and life, comes to a disturbing stop as I’m caught in the snare of the hunter's gaze. My hunter. The brutal clench of my gut stirs me back to my better senses. Rokama. Run. I yank my arm back with a force that surprises even me.
The rokama’s upper lip curls back in retort.
Hands hook themselves under my armpits and hoist me up. My legs fail to adequately assist the motion. They tremble, like a newborn fawn or a riidae. And just like that, the thought of the dainty and lithe Hollow Woods creature brings my mind careening back to the day I left…
The warm air clung to my skin like a hug, with the scent of freshly blossomed ceav and limbre perfuming the valley I tended. As the newly appointed Head of Cultivation of the Valley of Ways, I arrived earlier than my brethren to survey the work ahead of us and stayed late to see that each flower was appropriately handled. It was an important job, for the stamen of these mammoth flowers were key ingredients to several remedies my community made.
Fatigue settled into my bones as I stretched; my work for the day nearing its end. The other cultivators had done well, but a lonely patch of ceav near the clear-cut entrance of the Forest of Dan Furth still remained untouched. It didn’t bother me to stay and coax the remaining flowers to bloom. Not when their bristled stems always brought a pleasant shiver across my skin.
I skimmed my hand up the last spine of the ceav and watched the tepid green glow of my power sink into the flower.
"Welcome," I whispered, not bothering to hide my exhaustion from the unfurling petals. Shoulders dropping, a weary sigh rushed past my lips. I stepped back, my wings fluttering to assist. "Finished."
Satisfaction enveloped me. I closed my eyes to relish in the knowledge of a job well done. The scent of the flowers was sweet and bright around me, like ripe nectar in the air. Then the constant chatter and singing of the forest creatures turned abruptly to a hush.
My brow plucked forward as I opened my eyes and canted my head. The hush was… unnatural. My spine straightened as stark awareness prickled the back of my neck. The valley grew quieter still, and the sudden feeling of being watched was unmistakable. My pulse set off at a gallop as I ventured a glance over my shoulder.
I shuddered. "Rokama."
"Luna!" Winter's voice jerks me back to the present. I startle against her hold, bumping into her chest as my breath clouds before me in dozens of tiny bursts.
"He cannot be here," I choke out. The rokama growls fiercely. He remains spread out across the ground but no longer does he feign a prone and feeble position. The dense muscles of his arms bulge as he props himself up.
"The fairy comes with me," he states.
Four sets of eyes drill into me with confusion puckering their brows. I shake my head fervently at the nightmare before me and press back further into Winter's steadying embrace.
"She most certainly is not," Winter retorts, but her passionate assistance does nothing to dim the scalding heat in the rokama's eyes as he stares me down. He came for me? All this way… ?
The rokama rises with predatory grace and Atticus and Keenan let out fierce growls of warning while Winter tugs me back a step.
Jax angles forward, his staff held in both hands. "Stand down."
But he does not. The rokama utters a word—ovas—and lunges. Winter and I stumble backward with muted cries, but midair the beast is thrown back by some unseen force. My head whips to the side just in time to see the color drain from Jax's face and watch him grimace with exhaustion.
"Who are you?" Atticus demands, striding to stand in front of Winter and me, and once more I’m thrust into buried memories.
Fear locked each and every muscle in place. There was no hope of escape as I stared into the black beast's eyes. It stalled its pursuit, eyeing me with a pang of unmistakable hunger.
Run, an urgent voice whispered inside my head. But I couldn’t move an inch.
The rokama hunched and pitched forward.
A terrible yelp rested ready on my tongue, a prelude to the inevitable chase, but the beast didn't charge. Instead, I watched, transfixed as its black fur rippled across its body and sank back into its flesh. A wretched cry broke from the rokama as it shuddered and quivered, transforming into a man. My jaw dropped.
There were few instances in my life that I witnessed a rokama in its two-legged form. Now it may be my last.
I gaped at the sight of him across the field, and then my cheeks—my entire body—flooded with red calceolas flowers. Their bountiful ruffled petals swelled and fluttered beneath my skin as the rokama's eyes locked upon me once more. Though the ceav and limbre were abnormally tall, they barely concealed the rokama's muscular figure or the sight of leathery wings branching out from behind his back.
"Greetings," he called in the common tongue as he took a cautious step forward. I flew back, heart hammering as my legs curled beneath me in alarm. My wings beat with haste to keep me afloat. The rokama paused, keen to my fear. "I mean you no harm," he continued. "I—"
My throat bobbed as his mouth opened and closed without a sound. At a loss for words, his forehead crinkled. Though what confusion struck him so soundly was beyond my reasoning. The rokama regained his composure, his chest expanding to draw in a deep breath.
"I followed a scent here. It is one that has haunted my dreams for weeks." The man took two more steps forward. I floated back, bumping into the plump petal of a ceav.
"Don't come any closer!" I shouted, my voice pitched high. My hands fumbled for the small gardening knife near my feet. I brandished it like a sword. The rokama frowned further.
"I have seen your face in my dreams," he said loudly and continued forward despite my retreat. "The Gods have spoken. You are my heart's content."
The declaration left me stunned. Heart’s content?
Could it possibly be true? Did the Gods mark us to be a perfect pair? My pulse doubled at the crazed notion.
How could it be possible? A rokama and a fairy?
Doubt seized me, but a flicker of curiosity lit within me that would not be snuffed. My eyes roamed the expanse of the rokama’s defined chest, before skirting to the ominous wings behind him. How would our courtship playout? An almost hysterical laugh gurgled out of me at the notion. Those blessed with a heart’s content anchored themselves together in stages: the awakening, entwining, and covenant. The first stage manifested no physical force to bind a pair, but it plagued one with the truth of their perfect match. Knowledge so stout could never be forgotten.
As for the other two… a far more definitive and unbreakable connection was forged.
I studied the man’s expression, all the while trying to tame my own. He looked pleased, yet cautious, at my contemplation of his words. I swallowed. The hunger present in his beastly form remained. Yet, the longer I studied him, the more his hunger read as desire.
Better desire than his next meal, I thought. Better to not awaken anything that could inspire him to take more than I was willing to offer.
“You are mistaken,” I called back, fingers flexing around the handle of my blade. He was handsome, unquestionably, but he was still a killer like the rest of his kind. My brows shrugged together in uncertainty. While in his beastly form, his eyes held no trace of the signature red of his kind, nor his muzzle coated in the blood of his p
The rokama rolled his shoulders and jut his chin up proudly. “I am not.”
We stood in silent standoff.
Doubt wrenched my gut further. It couldn’t be true. However unlikely our circumstance; I wasn’t ready for such a commitment. Moreover, I could never love a beast whose kind hunted mine.
… And yet he looked unlike his kind. There had been no red in his eyes or murder on his mouth.
I shivered as my nerves seized. My eyes darted back and forth as panic drove me to flee.
Without another word, I sprinted off, bumping into petals and stalks. He closed half the distance between us by the time I passed the forest line. Lost for breath and thought, I ran for cover behind a tree. Its rough bark scratched my back as I curled awkwardly around it. The rokama stood before me an instant later. I screamed. My knife shook in my hand as I thrust it in a threatening manner.
"Stay back! You're wrong, beast!"
He growled; frustration written across the lines of his face. He did not advance immediately but swallowed thickly instead. "I have searched for you since the first night you came into my dreams—"
"I did no such thing," I hissed back, scandalized at having appeared in such an intimate manner to him. “I’ve certainly had no such dreams of you!”
Heat accumulated on my cheeks. My words had not been a lie, not exactly. Visions of a rokama had been haunting my sleeping hours the past few weeks. But they had been nightmares, not dreams. My skin pebbled at the dreamy memory of the rokama’s howl. It never failed to stir my baser emotions… and yet, those emotions had never been fear. I licked my lips as my uncertainty rose.
What was I thinking? This was all a trick. His words were no doubt meant to distract me from his true purpose. "You're mistaken," I asserted with more courage than I felt, "and I suggest you leave before my friends return for me. This is not your territory."
The rokama stilled, his displeasure apparent in his strict posture. "My pack likewise waits for my return. They are keen to meet their new sister and welcome you to the pack. As we speak, they prepare to celebrate our union.” A soft smile slowly lightened his displeasure. “Under the watchful eye of family and friends, we may step into this new chapter of our lives together—”
“Blessed by the security of their love.” I finished the traditional rites of union breathlessly, then shook my head at the delight present in his eyes. “You speak of the old ways to bind two people together. No one I know partakes in such fashions.” My mouth felt suddenly dry. “Why must you go on with this charade?”
“It is not a charade,” he said and shuffled forward. “It is important for me to have the blessing of those closest to me. If this is not your desire, I am confident we may reach a compromise.”
“A comp—?” The remainder of my words fell short of their mark as I stare in disbelief. “You are not my heart’s content, nor I, yours! Why do you persist in this cruel game?” I demanded as fear struck me. “We are born enemies. You kill my people. I will not betray them, nor fall prey to whatever trick this is.”
I slashed my knife in the space between us to ward him off.
The man scowled. “I have not traveled so far from home to be rebuffed. I bear the mark of our connection. Here is your proof." He twisted his left arm and presented a dark lightning bolt on his bicep. I clenched my jaw, unable to tear my eyes from the sight. "We are fated," he said, voice calm.
"No," I replied hoarsely, the blatant lie difficult to force out.
His mark's twin rested across my hip. I angle my body to lie out of view as a new panic surges through me. I couldn’t be bound to a rokama. They were monsters. Heathens. Beasts.
I would never survive.
He extended a hand to me, the line of his shoulders softening. "Come with me,” he urged. “We will explore the great forests together, dance beneath the great shower of stars, and call each other home."
His words shook me to my core, and I had no way of hiding it. I had wished for such things in the deepest parts of my heart and never shared the words with another. And yet…
I stifled the tremor threatening to dislodge my knife, and fled once more, hurling myself away from him as fast as possible.
Laughter cuts through my vivid recollection. It is cruel and makes me flinch as the coarseness of it rubs against me. The rokama rolls to his knees and bestows a shark-like smile. Then he spits. The fluid is dark red against the ground.
"His name is Adrian." Winter's voice wavers slightly as she guides me behind her. Atticus glares briefly at her protective nature and I understand why. Winter’s newly human state makes her the weakest of our group. "He's one of the wolves that attacked me. The coven has his associate under guard."
Atticus shifts closer to our twosome. "Winter, take Luna back to the car. Now. Lock the doors."
I glance at my snowy-haired friend. Her lips are pursed as she flicks her gaze between her husband and the dangerous man on the ground. Slowly she slips back, urging me with her even though my legs protest.
"You're fools to think I'll be deterred from my mission by some simple magic trick." The rokama stands, glaring at Jax who grows paler by the second.
A cold wind whips through the road, and my throat constricts. The amount of magic Jax has expended in the past 24 hours is clearly catching up with him and draining him of his energy. Would he be able to outlast the rokama?
"We can't leave them, Winter,” I say, and slide away from her as a terrible realization hits me. If the rokama came all this way to fetch me, an obstacle such as my friends wouldn’t stop him.
"Winter. Car. Now." Atticus repeats with more force. She loudly exhales in exasperation, her cheeks and nose a bright red in the cold.
"Let’s go, Luna. We need to get in the car."
"Do as she says, gorgeous," Jax adds. I cast my gaze to the handsome sorcerer and watch him widen his stance. Jax’s face is drawn, but the firm line of his mouth casts little doubt that he’ll do whatever is necessary to keep us safe. "We'll handle this."
"I can help," I insist, but Winter grabs my hand. I yank at her hold and soon find release. Winter was stronger when she was a lycan, I think, or perhaps her sacrifices drained her energy as well.
"We need to get inside the car, Luna." Winter insists and swipes for my hand. I skirt out of reach and she lets out a frustrated noise from the back of her throat. "You're being ridiculous," Winter hisses, her nerves showing in the tight lines growing around her eyes. "If you want to get back home, we need to get in the car." I inhale through clenched teeth. Home…
Outrunning the rokama felt like outrunning fate, which made the task all the more daunting. Rokama were stronger and faster than my kind, and I was no tree runner, like my good friend Alekos. If only I had his speed, I wished fervently as I pushed my body to its limits.
All around me the flora whispered in my ear on the breeze. They urged me onward faster as the pounding feet of my pursuer echoed in the forest, closer and closer with each passing second.
A dismal cry burst from my lips as I swung myself around a large tree trunk only to come face-to-face with the rokama. Again. I choked on my shock at the stern tilt of his mouth.
"I mean you no harm," he claimed severely, but aggravation and something else painted his words. I curled my arms across my chest and took several steps back. He allowed my small retreat, but his expression darkened in warning.
"Stay back!"
I brandished my knife with white knuckles as plans for escape stormed my thoughts. I could fly out of his reach... but the chance of capture still remained perilously high. My gaze flitted down his bare form, seizing on the muscles of his thighs and—
"Let us walk together in peace," he murmured, hope straining his words.
My breath caught in my throat.
I studied his face seeking falsehood, but the harsh cut of his brow was gone, and a chasm of desire and possibilities poured from his expression as he stared back at me. A lungful of air stuck to my insides, refusing to part from me.
"No,” I breathed.
I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. He represented a dark unknown I was unwilling to discover. There was no doubt in my mind we were too different. Him cross and mean, and I too soft-hearted for his roughness.
