Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 128087 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128087 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Boraleashe raised one of his immaculate white gloves. “Word journeys fast through the realms, Notalus. I know who you have chosen as your consort.” Boraleashe held his hand out to Dustin. “It is a great honor to meet the Alpha of the Moon Tribe.”
Dustin gripped Boraleashe’s hand. “It’s an honor to meet you too, Lord Boraleashe.”
The nobles bowed and curtseyed as Boraleashe made his way down the court, greeting each one. He stopped at the end of the row, his back becoming rigid, the air growing cooler by the second.
“Where is he?” Boraleashe stood in front of Notalus. “Where is the Autumn Beauty?”
“I do not know.”
“Of course you do,” Boraleashe snarled, his fists clenched at his sides. “He should be here. And I take great offense that he is not.”
“It appears you will have to get over it, brother,” Notalus growled, refusing to be intimidated in his own home.
“If I go look for him… he won’t like what I do when I find him.”
“Is that why you came here, Boraleashe? To start trouble?” Notalus stepped closer. “My son made his decision… accept it.”
“I told you why I’m here. I came to congratulate my brother on his new marriage and to celebrate the beginning of my season… and the end of yours,” Boraleashe said boldly.
Boraleashe
Far From Home
Boraleashe clenched his jaw tightly, glaring at his brother. It would be a mistake to rile him. Before Boraleashe could send out a frustrated gust of frigid wind to locate who he’d come for, he appeared above him.
Theodor floated like a delicate leaf on the warm flow of his south wind, his oversized emerald robe blocking Boraleashe’s frost blowing down from the north.
Fhomhair’s palace lord stepped forward and announced, “Hail Lord Theodor Cavalerie, King of Fhomhair and Titan of the South Wind. The Treasure of the Harvest and all realms!”
Theodor dropped to the ground in front of him amidst a storm of red and orange leaves. He stood to his full seven feet, staring Boraleashe in his eyes.
By the gods, he’s more gorgeous than I remember.
Boraleashe didn’t voice the compliment, forced to be his usual cold self. “Have you no respect? Your tardiness is unappealing and beneath your station.”
The look Theodor gave him was enough to make Boraleashe forget the rest of his chastisement. The new king stood there smelling like spiced apples and cinnamon in his formal attire and full copper armor. His robe floated majestically on the wind behind him.
Theodor inched closer until his chest was pressed against his, his body hot and solid. His voice was grated, his tone lethal. “Since you did not offer me nor my father the courtesy of sending word of your intended visit to my realm…” Theodor glared with those piercing hazel eyes. “You should be honored by my lateness.”
Boraleashe concealed his tremor beneath his heavy robe, or at least he hoped he hid it well. To maintain power, Boraleashe reached up and caressed a long lock of Theodor’s honey-brown hair, allowing the silky strands to sift through his fingers.
“You know why I am here, don’t you, Autumn Lord.”
Theodor’s hushed gasp caressed his jaw, his body tensed against him. The tail of his floating robe fell to the ground at his feet. He had to know just what Boraleashe was about to remind him of. Yet still he whispered it into his arctic wind and sent it into Theodor’s warm spirit.
“The Snow Moon approaches.”
All was quiet for a long moment, he and Theodor standing close to each other, breathing in anticipation, the dread, and the unknown future.
Notalus cleared his throat loud enough to gather his court’s attention. “It is a great honor to host the Titan of the North here in Tir an Fhomhair. Come, brother.” Notalus pulled Boraleashe’s attention away from his son. “I will escort you and your court to your quarters myself.”
Boraleashe gave Theodor the slightest bow in respect and was pleased when he returned the gesture. But Boraleashe hadn’t expected Theodor to suddenly push his wind and disappear into the orange sky. He hadn’t wanted the treasure to leave so soon, but Boraleashe would be sure to find him later.
Time was of the essence.
Boraleashe fell in step beside his brother Notalus while their court followed at a respectable distance. He glanced around the palace grounds, taking in the autumn scenery. Fhomhair was a world different from Tir an Amárach. He observed servants smiling while picking ripened fruit from the trees in the courtyard. He wondered if every task in Fhomhair, no matter how menial, was an absolute joy to perform.
In the Arctic World, Boraleashe’s people had to hunt and gather their food, often in treacherous conditions. His brother’s people congregated with friends and family, able to roam the vast land free of any danger and threats.
Guards and occupants of the palace stopped and bowed when they walked past, and Boraleashe was mindful of being courteous in return, but he was not there for ceremony; he wasn’t there for a holiday visit. His life and his land were in danger, and there was but one man who could help him, but his hopes diminished with each step he took through Fhomhair’s colorful paradise.