Enchantment

ENCHANTMENT

Laws of Segregation ~ Book 3

by

Nina Croft

Breathless Press

Calgary, Alberta

www.breathlesspress.com

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Enchantment

Copyright© 2012 Nina Croft

ISBN: 978-1-77101-001-6

Cover Artist: Mina Carter

Editor: Clarissa Yip

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

Breathless Press

www.breathlesspress.com

Look for these titles by Nina

Chosen

The Calling

The full moon rose as they entered the stone circle, bathing them in silver light so different from the crimson glow of their home world of Arroway. The night was warm, but Shayla shivered. Doubt gnawed at her mind and dread clawed at her insides.

Did her mother still live? Maybe she was already dead. If so, was Shayla risking Tallon’s life for nothing? If they failed and Tallon died, was she strong enough to go on? To not give in to despair as Casterix had? Or would she bring destruction down upon them all? She could feel the raw power inside her, but had no clue how to use it or even control it, and the thought filled her with terror.

As if sensing her fears, Tallon took her hand and a measure of calm flowed through her, but she still couldn’t rid herself of the misgivings that besieged her mind.

She loved him.

She’d chosen him.

But how could she completely forget that only days ago he’d been hunting her? That he was responsible for delivering her mother to the dungeons of the Keep? All his life he’d belonged to the Order and believed in their lies. Could a lifetime of indoctrination be discarded in a matter of hours? After all, they had only ended up here because Tallon had tried to kill her. She had countered with a spell so strong that it ripped them from their own world and set them down on Earth.

Tallon grasped her shoulders. As his gaze swept over her, his dark eyes softened, and then filled with an emotion that made her tremble. He tugged her toward him, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her. Shayla was overwhelmed by a sense of rightness, and she gave herself up to the sensations sweeping through her, a tidal wave of desire that washed away the doubts.

Tallon stepped back, and slowly stripped the clothes from her body. When she was naked, her body gilded in silver moonlight, he lowered her to the soft grass. She lay and watched as he removed his own clothes and came down over her. He held his powerful body poised above her, and she reached up and stroked his face.

“Tallon, I choose you.” He smiled. “Good, because it’s too late for anything else.” He leaned toward her and kissed her. “I love you,” he murmured against her mouth, and the last of her fear vanished into the night.

She knew there was a struggle ahead, but it was a struggle she would make with Tallon. And they would not fail. Together they were far stronger than apart. She opened to him, gasped as his body pierced her own, and for a short while, she forgot everything in the savage beauty of his lovemaking.

“Are you sure?” he asked afterward as they dressed hurriedly. “We can go back. You can spend time with Casterix, learn how to control your magic, how to use it.” She cast him a look of disbelief. “While my mother is being held in the dungeons of the Order? Alone, maybe tortured?”

“You have to prepare yourself that she might already be dead.”

“No! I won’t believe that. I’d know if she was gone.” But would she? They were on a different world, far from home. She shook her head. It didn’t matter. “I have to try and save her.” He nodded once and guilt flickered across his face.

Shayla reached her hand out and stroked her palm against the roughness of his cheek. “I don’t blame you. You did your duty.” He twisted his head and kissed her palm, then drew back. “I should have known.” Actually, she agreed, but there was no point in hashing over the past. All they could do was attempt to put right the wrongs.

“Let’s do this.” He nodded, and slid his palm into hers. Side by side, they stood at the center of the stone circle. Tallon’s hand gripped hers as he raised his staff and started the spell that would take them home together.

Callum sat cross-legged in the perpetual twilight of his world between worlds. When he’d arrived over a thousand years ago, there had been nothing. Now his magic had conjured up the vague outline of familiar objects. Shadowy trees reached through the mist to the sky. The dark tower where he made his home had formed out of the black rock.

His mind wandered. These days he found it hard to focus, to even remember why he was here. He knew he was no longer entirely sane, and each day drove him closer to madness.

He shouldn’t be here. He had in fact died, but his love hadn’t allowed him to leave. She’d dragged him back from the land of the dead and dropped him somewhere in between, to a place where he didn’t so much live as exist while time flowed around him.

Casterix must be dead. She wouldn’t have left him to languish here had she still life in her body. She had
chosen
him.

In front of him, flat on the ground, lay a mirror, his one contact with the outside. Through it, he caught glimpses of other worlds.

Occasionally, people would appear briefly and then be gone. He lived for those moments. They were the one thing that kept him going in his strange half-life.

Now, he lowered his head so he could look down into the silver depths. Sometimes all the glass showed was the reflection of his face. He hated to see the encroaching madness in his eyes.

But today was one of the good days. His image faded, the mirror cleared, and in the polished surface a figure shifted. A woman, standing in the center of a circle of tall stones. It was nighttime, and a single moon hung in the sky. Not Arroway then.

Callum studied her hungrily. Her figure was indistinct in the dim light, and he forced his mind to focus his limited powers on the mirror. Slowly her face gained definition, though the rest of her remained lost in a haze of mist. He could see the curve of her cheek and the dark red mark that showed stark against the pale skin.He jerked back, breaking his concentration, and the image wavered. No, it couldn’t have been.

Forcing his gaze downward, he stared into the mirror. Nothing showed and terror rose up in his throat. Had he found her only to lose her again? He touched a trembling finger to the silver and the surface rippled and cleared.

There she was.

He breathed again. Taking in a deep gulp of air, he steadied his mind, and studied her. Her head was downcast, the rest of her indistinct, just an impression of long, dark hair. He willed her to look up, holding himself motionless as though she might sense him and run. Finally, she lifted her head, and his gaze feasted on the only thing that had any meaning, the mark on her right cheekbone beneath her eye. A perfect sickle moon.

Casterix.

Did she still live? After a thousand years, was it possible? Hope and fear warred inside him, followed swiftly by a flash of self-doubt. Was this just another sign of his approaching insanity? He studied her avidly, willing her to see him. Instead, she turned away to gaze at something or someone beside her. Her expression filled with love, and his rage awoke.

She had sent him here with her magic. One thousand years alone. Waiting for a glimpse of her and now, she gazed at another with the love that should be his.

Mine!
The word roared in his head.

She was his. She had chosen him. And that bond lasted for eternity, transcended even death. As his fury rose, the magic stirred inside him. He groped for his staff and wrapped his fingers around the wood, while muttering the words of a spell.

In the mirror, something was changing. Not his spell. Not yet.

Crimson lightning flickered on the dark sky, and then a blinding white light rent a hole above her. She vanished.

He threw back his head and screamed. No, he wouldn’t let her go. She was his. He could still find her.

Lowering his lids, he concentrated his mind on the last image of her and called her to him. He found her easily and chanted the summoning spell.

~*~

Shayla gripped tight onto Tallon’s hand. His warm palm comforted her as the sky opened above them and they were drawn into chaos. Maybe because she was expecting it, this time she stayed conscious as she was pulled from one world into the next.

She sensed the moment when they reentered Arroway and knew Tallon felt it as well since his fingers tightened in hers. They had done it. They were home. She could smell the familiar air, feel the warmth on her skin.

At the last minute, something changed. A force tugged her, gently at first, but the more she struggled against it, the stronger the pull became. She tried to hold on to Tallon, screaming his name in panic as she was wrenched from his grasp. She fought with every cell in her body.

“I’ll find you,” Tallon roared, but the words were scattered.

She had one final glimpse of his face, and then she was engulfed by darkness.

~*~

Slowly, she dragged herself back from oblivion. She lay on her side on what appeared to be fine sand. The grains stuck to her cheek as she pushed herself up and peered around her. Nothing was familiar, she had no clue where she was, and she didn’t recognize her surroundings.

The world was gray, as though all the colors had been filtered.

There was something she needed to do, something important, but she couldn’t remember what. She squeezed her eyes shut, and a face flashed across her mind. Dark hair, sharp cheekbones, eyes the deep purple of the sky as the suns went down. Her mind reached out to hold on to him, but he was gone. Inside her head, she screamed, but no sound came out.

A deep sense of loss filled her, but couldn’t make her mind focus. The more she tried to concentrate the more her thoughts blurred.

Sensing the presence of someone new, she forced her lids open. A pair of long legs in black pants and knee-length boots stood in her line of vision. She pushed herself up onto her elbows wincing as a sharp pain cut across her forehead and backward through her skull.

She held herself still until the pain faded, then lifted her hand up to her head and felt the wet stickiness of blood. She must have hit herself as she crash-landed.

“Are you all right?” The voice was hoarse, rusty as though left unused for a long time. Her gaze flicked up to look at the man who spoke. She didn’t recognize him, but then maybe he’d been wiped from her mind along with so much else. Why was she here? Where had she been going? There was something she needed to do, but she couldn’t remember what. The questions battered her already-aching head.

When she didn’t answer, a hand reached down and clasped her upper arm, pulling her up so she sat with her back leaning against the rough rock. The man remained crouched beside her, studying her, and she stared up at his face, searching for something familiar. His fair hair fell to his shoulders; his eyes were gray and close enough that she could see the ring of black circling his irises. He had high cheekbones and a finely sculpted mouth held in a stern line. And she was quite sure she had never seen him in her entire life.

Her head swam and she lowered her lashes and waited for the world to settle. A finger stroked her cheek and her eyes flew open.

“You’re not Casterix, but you bear the mark.” She winced again. She hated the mark; she might not remember who she was, but she knew that much, so all wasn’t forgotten.

The mark labeled her a witch for everyone to see. And a witch was not a good thing on Arroway these days.

“It’s been so long,” he continued. “Maybe you’re Casterix reborn. What is your name?” She had no clue, and the harder she tried to remember, the more her head hurt. “I don’t know.”

“No matter. You have been sent to me for a reason.”

“Sent?” She frowned. “No, I wasn’t sent.”