Night's End by Yasmine Galenorn

Night's End by Yasmine Galenorn

Author:Yasmine Galenorn
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Penguin Group US
Published: 2014-06-09T16:00:00+00:00


Inhaling deeply, I opened my eyes and realized I was seeing through someone else’s body. And yet, the body felt incredibly familiar. I wasn’t sure who I was, or why I was here—wherever here was—but there was something I was searching for, and I could only discover it in this place, in this time. The memory of a song lingered, and the memory of a voice guiding me down a long hallway encased in mist, and there was the whisper of a little girl echoing in my head, but other than that, I had no clue as to what I was about or where I was.

I looked around. I was standing outside a hillock—a Barrow of sorts, and it was covered in deep snows. The trees surrounding it were weighed down with heavy blankets of white, their branches frozen to the ground. The air was clear, so clear it hurt my lungs, and the sky was that pale eggshell blue of dawn, but a storm was coming in—I could feel it in my bones. The energy of the storm was bringing heavy snow and snow-lightning, and it promised a renewal, recharging with its fury.

As I spread my arms wide, welcoming the coming fury, my stomach rumbled, and I realized that I was aching, so thirsty and hungry I was. A cunning swelled up, a desire to seek, to chase, to hunt, and I cast my eye around for possible prey. As I scouted out, following a faint scent that I caught on the wind, I saw him. He was tall and lean, and his clothing was barely enough to keep him from turning blue.

I squirmed as I stood there, and when I looked down, I realized I was naked—or nearly. A gossamer gown, silver threads loosely woven in a lacework pattern, hung lightly from my shoulders, but I could see through it the weave was so loose. My breasts, my stomach, my legs—my entire body was faintly cerulean, and with wonder, I ran my tongue over my teeth, feeling their razor-sharp edges pierce the flesh. Drops of blood welled up on my tongue, and their salty, metallic tang increased my hunger.

I lowered myself behind a nearby bush, as the man began to come my way. He hadn’t seen me yet, and I had the feeling that if he knew I was here, he’d be running. All the more reason to be patient—to lie in wait like the snow weavers my mother kept as pets.

My mother? The image of a tall queen rose up, stretching over the sky, blotting out the morning light. Thinly jointed, with angular eyes and a pale, dangerous beauty, her visage was imprinted on my heart, and I realized I loved her with a passion. She was my everything. She was my all, my role model, my goddess. And I was her beloved daughter.

Cherish. That was my name. I was Cherish—and I was my mother’s daughter in every way.

Well, almost every way. The voice inside annoyed me, and I tried to push it away, but it wasn’t so easily silenced.



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