Tyrian's Mist by Moon V.L

Author:Moon, V.L. [Moon, V.L.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Laz & Lachi Publications, L.L.C.
Published: 2013-05-26T05:00:00+00:00

TYRIAN

Fighting back the tide of emotion pouring from his heart, Tyrian cursed his own weakness and swore to bury whatever stupid notions of ever feeling anything from Jaral he harboured. Mentally, he scolded himself for his absurdity in thinking, or hoping anyone would ever want him. Solid droplets of amber littered the floor; tears from a heart fooled by its own foolhardiness. He vowed never to cry again. As Jaral’s angry grip tightened its hold and drew him nearer, he berated himself for speaking out. He wanted Jaral in any way he could get him, and if being held within the sanctity of his muscular embrace was to be all he’d ever have, then Tyrian would take it, because the thought of never having anything at all would surely break his heart. The heavy sound of footsteps, many, many footsteps echoed around the cavern bringing with them the bitter edge of panic.

The stench of fear tainted the air in the cave; the sour taste of it coated his throat. Still locked in Jaral’s firm grip, Tyrian forced his tear stained gaze to face Jaral, only to be met with Jaral’s fixed look of utter confliction. Jaral’s eyes were wide and bright and flickered as he stood transfixed staring into space. The link, Jaral communicated with the others of his race. He’d seen it many times over the years and knew the signs well.

Faye, shifters and werewolves started to fill the cavern. The storm topside worsened driving those living outside within the woods and trees to seek the safety and shelter the caves duly offered. Concern and worry for their young, their homes and belongings lined their faces. Fear shrouded the young clinging to their parents in mass panic of being left behind. Tyrian knew the feeling well.

Over the years he’d lived as Jaral’s ward, he’d paid avid attention to Jaral and practised with severe determination all of which his Guardian taught him. Concentrating hard, Tyrian used his skills to pick up on the thread shared between the Guardians. Nothing. Just the faint tug on the bond he’d once shared with Jaral before it’d been broken by his Guardian’s dislike of his newly awakened form. But, Tyrian knew the strength his mind could muster; at times his ability to connect with the thoughts of others eased the avid loneliness of his own mind. With the strength of his will, Tyrian tried again. He reached further and felt along the thin veil of an unravelled thread. He pulled at the imaginary frayed ends hard, causing the bond to flare and stir with life. It shimmered brightly as it flared to life, and then rapidly faded form. Tyrian persevered, focusing on the pent up well of emotion and aggression running through his veins. Each time the link sparked, words, faint but audible, came through.

“New...others...through…here...now.”

Jaral’s eyes snapped up and burned brighter than flame. The brilliance matched that of Tyrian’s own as Jaral became aware of what Tyrian’s mind was capable of doing. His understanding came too late to stop Tyrian.

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