Vengeance From The Dark (D'Vaire Book 3) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  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

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  VENGEANCE FROM THE DARK

  JESSAMYN KINGLEY

  Copyright © 2017 Jessamyn Kingley

  All Rights Reserved

  All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Editing: Flat Earth Editing

  Cover Design: 2017 © L.J. Anderson, Mayhem Cover Creations

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite eBook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Prologue

  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

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  About the Author

  Prologue

  1012 A.D., Village of the Cwylld

  “Please, you mustn’t do this,” Talfryn slurred as he tried to fight the poison that was doing its best to render him unconscious. He had no clue how they had even managed to get into their hut to place a toxin in his cup. Talfryn knew it no longer mattered; he had to find a way to gather whatever strength he still possessed.

  “Silence him,” Chief Aniernan of the Cwylld demanded.

  “The draught will soon take care of that,” Carvallius promised in a bored tone. The warlock had been a friend of the Cwylld chieftains for as long as Talfryn could remember. Though Talfryn was the only child of Chieftain Aniernan and Chieftess Taliya, he was not often included in the gatherings they held with allies. After all, he had been only eighteen years of age when he’d met his mate and gone to live with the Acwellan barely twelve months before.

  Talfryn did his best to struggle to his feet, but he was being held down by two strong elves who acted as guards for his parents. He drunkenly turned his head to the left and looked into the pale lavender eyes of the elf he had called friend for the whole of his life.

  “Cadlyr, how could you?” Talfryn forced out, though his vision wavered and his tongue was thick within the confines of his parched mouth. Cadlyr’s eyes seemed full of grief, but the elf said not a word to him nor did his grip on Talfryn lessen.

  “Carvallius, you are certain you can erase the matebond?” Chieftess Taliya asked and Talfryn renewed his efforts to free himself. Life without Lorcan would be a fate worse than death. Unfortunately, he didn’t manage much more than to annoy the guard to his right who promptly shoved him down to his knees.

  “No magic is powerful enough to erase the bonds of mates, but I can conceal it. Talfryn will have no memory of the Acwellan Chieftain. The markings on his face and the rings in his ear that are a witness to the world of his status will also be obscured. This will deform his face,” Carvallius said flatly as he opened a large black tome that glowed an ethereal red. Talfryn knew the warlock practiced magic as dark as the book in his hands. His manner of dress also reflected his preference; all his clothing was devoid of color. Carvallius’s long dark red hair was a stark contrast as were the green eyes that seemed to be without emotion.

  “What of the sword on his chest? It will be known that he is a chieftain should it remain,” Chieftess Taliya pointed out.

  Carvallius looked annoyed. “Do you think I have not already thought of that? It will disappear when the spell is cast. Do you believe that I have just begun the art of magic?”

  “As long as Chief Acwellan does not appear on our threshold demanding Talfryn’s return. I have no time to waste dealing with one of his kind,” Chief Aniernan said. His father’s tone had been full of disgust, but Talfryn knew his words were all bluster. The Cwylld, like many, feared the Acwellan elves, for they had the magic of demons in their blood. Should Chieftain Lorcan come to rescue his mate, it could very well mean the lives of many Cwylld.

  “To cast such a powerful spell, I am afraid there is a cost to young Talfryn,” Carvallius said.

  “Do what you must; he cast his lot with that demonspawn. But do not end his miserable existence, for the Acwellan are sure to want revenge should their chief die with his mate,” Chieftain Aniernan said with a small shrug. Talfryn had never known his parents to be overly affectionate, and he’d fought with them all throughout his life but he hadn’t known they had such cruelty living inside their dark hearts.

  “I think…yes, if we take his sight it will be enough to make such a spell a success. We shall leave the mark on his back where it will go unnoticed. He must be reborn to your tribe if this ruse is to work. No one must know he was Talfryn in case the Acwellan decide to pay you a visit,” Carvallius said.

  “You are wise to think of that. He will need a new name. The other Cwylld do not know Talfryn has returned. There is a distant holding we can say he has come from—there is no reason for the others to suspect he is nothing more than a young blind man seeking refuge with his chieftains,” Chieftess Taliya began as she rearranged her lavender attire. “We shall call him Edion.”

  Talfryn looked up at the roof of the earthen hut he was kneeling in and wondered, as his vision clouded, if that was the last sight he would see upon this earth. He could no longer feel his limbs, and his fight to stay awake was a brutal one. It would not be long before the darkness took him. With the inevitable swirling about him, indeed Carvallius was already chanting in ancient tongues, Talfryn thought solely of Lorcan. Though not every moment of the past year had been tranquil, his love for Lorcan was unsurpassed in its strength.

  Closing his now sightless eyes as pain tore through
him down to his bones, Talfryn held on to the hope that somehow Lorcan would find him. He begged to any deity listening that the man he loved would not believe Talfryn had left him of his own accord. All Talfryn could do was have faith that someday he would once again resume his life as Chieftain-mate Talfryn of the Acwellan. Somehow, he would find himself in the arms of the blue-eyed elf who had stolen his heart and owned his soul.

  The agony of the spells being cast against him reached a level that no sane person could bear. Surrendering to the void, Talfryn’s heartache was so acute that unbidden tears slid out of his blind eyes. Stinging pain threatened to rip him to shreds as consciousness finally left him.

  Chapter 1

  Present Day, Draconis Court of D’Vaire

  Edion counted his steps as he made his way toward the kitchen to eat lunch. Although blind, it had not taken him long to learn his way around the big mansion he now called home. Once he had lived as a burden to a small tribe known as the Cwylld. At the end of the fourteenth century, his people had battled against the warlocks. Using a special stone the chieftains had discovered during another ancient war, the Cwylld had drained the warlocks of magic and it did not bode well for the sorcerers. That had not been enough for Chieftain Aniernan and Chieftess Taliya of the Cwylld. They had hunted down every last warlock and driven their race into extinction. The fighting had lasted little more than a year, but the warlocks had left their mark upon the Cwylld as well: only about two dozen of his former tribe still lived.

  Chieftain Aniernan and Chieftess Taliya ruled over them in the same forest that had served as their ancestral home. The Cwylld had no wealth and eschewed any part of modern life; they lived in earthen huts with no running water or electricity. Food was grown by hand and they had only a small fire in each hut to offer warmth. Stopping briefly to think it over, Edion was grateful that his former chieftains had thought of him as a burden and sold him to a crazy warlock named Latarian for just a single magic-stealing stone.

  His time with her had been brief; she had put together a ridiculous plot to enslave and steal the magic of a warlock familiar—she’d coerced Edion into telling her where the Cwylld rocks were and had then stolen them. Edion had been left at the crumbling home of a young wizard, Idris Vioric, while Latarian and Idris had kidnapped two of the D’Vaires. After the D’Vaires caught up with her, Latarian was struck down by a sentinel’s dagger. This had left Edion and Idris homeless, but not for long. After being adopted by the D’Vaire family and changing his last name to Vioric-D’Vaire, Arch Lich Chander Daray of the Order of Necromancia had found a place for Idris at the prestigious wizard school within the Council of Sorcery and Shifters. As for Edion, he was also lucky enough to be asked by the warlocks to come and live at the Draconis Court of D’Vaire. Edion had been shocked—these were the same sorcerers who had lost their parents and nearly all of their kind at the hands of his now former tribe.

  Although Edion had expected to be treated as poorly as he had been by his own kind, Grand Warlock Dra’Kaedan D’Vaire and his brother Grand Summoner Dre’Kariston D’Vaire were among the kindest of men. In fact, it had been Dra’Kaedan who had saved a few of the Cwylld rocks that hadn’t been destroyed by the Arch Lich and given them to Edion for safekeeping. He called them Edion’s legacy and they were kept in a magical vault in a box of copper. The metal somehow seemed to neutralize the stones’ ability to suck magic.

  Cadlyr, the elf responsible for the safekeeping of the stones for the Cwylld, had to be angry beyond measure that they’d been hoodwinked by Latarian. Edion knew Chieftain Aniernan and his mate were probably even more irate. Yet since the Cwylld had few resources and no idea the rocks were now in Edion’s spacious bedroom at Court D’Vaire, he didn’t feel at all threatened by the idea the small tribe would exact revenge.

  The D’Vaires were nonchalant about the possibility as well. After all, Dra’Kaedan and his brother were the strongest sorcerers ever born. Not to mention they had friends like the Arch Lich and the Prism Wizard whose magic was nearly as strong. Should they somehow fail, there were six dragon shifters and two sentinels ready to champion the D’Vaire cause. Edion was amused by his bloodthirsty thoughts; his new household was not one of war. The D’Vaires, after all, housed a sanctuary to rescue people rejected by others of their kind. All sixteen of them, if you counted a small dragon familiar as a person, and Edion decided he should, were so helpful that it made him cry at night with gratitude to be one of the lucky souls they had saved.

  “Edion, is everything okay?” King Aleksander asked and Edion realized he was still standing in the hallway. It was a good thing the leader of D’Vaire was here—he had forgotten how many steps he’d taken toward the kitchen.

  “Everything is wonderful. Would you be kind enough to lead me to the kitchen? I stopped to think and seem to have forgotten everything.” Aleksander chuckled at the words before taking Edion’s hand and placing it on his arm.

  “I can’t tell you how many times a day I forget everything,” Aleksander said.

  “It would probably be easier to count how many things you actually know. Then again, it doesn’t take very long to count to one,” Dra’Kaedan deadpanned as Edion and Aleksander moved closer to the kitchen. Edion could smell the rich spices that Noirin, the D’Vaire chef, had used to make lunch. She was kind enough to prepare him a separate plate. As an elf, his diet varied greatly from that of the large dragon shifters.

  “What’s the one thing he knows?” Duke Brogan D’Vairedraconis, Dra’Kaedan’s mate, asked.

  “Seriously? His name. He knows his name. Geez, Brogan, you’re killing me,” Dra’Kaedan said and Edion smiled. His new family could be so silly at times, he thought with happiness. He knew what a privilege it was to live among such light-hearted people.

  “Edion, here’s your plate,” Noirin said. “There’s some fresh fruit. Grapes, apple and pear slices, and strawberries. I sprinkled the strawberries with a bit of sugar; I know all about that sweet tooth of yours. Veggies are on the other side. Baby carrots, celery sticks, and cucumber slices. You’ve also got some raw potato sticks, lightly salted.”

  Taking the plate gladly and thanking Noirin, Edion remembered to count his steps toward the closest table. Noirin had prepared many of Edion’s new favorite foods, and he loved the way she always gave him his preferred fruits and vegetables served in a way that he could eat without making a mess of himself. Although he wasn’t able to see how dirty he could get, Edion didn’t want the others in the room to have to witness it. Like his time with the Cwylld, everything he ate at Court D’Vaire was grown by hand.

  Duke Dravyn D’Vairedraconis, Noirin’s younger brother, was a master gardener and he did not stop with things you could eat. Edion had been told that Dravyn’s flower garden was seemingly endless. He believed it. He might not be able to enjoy the view, but the rich scents rose up to greet him whenever he ventured outdoors. The D’Vaires had a gazebo that had been built to honor Dra’Kaedan when he had been thought dead not long after he completed his matebond with Brogan. It had comfortable, cushioned seats and Edion often sat in it while he enjoyed Dravyn’s fragrant blooms.

  “Edion, I got an e-mail this morning from Idris. He asked about you,” Delaney, the only D’Vaire wizard, and owner of the dragon familiar, said as he sat to Edion’s right.

  “That was kind of him. How many new spells has he learned this week?” Edion asked. Idris was a powerful wizard, but before hooking up with Latarian and being subsequently rescued, he had known very little about how to use his magic. Now at the Spectra School of Wizardry, Idris was flourishing. Although he had only been at the school for a handful of months, he was already an Adept. In the wizarding world, that meant he had passed onto the fourth level. No one had ever moved that fast through the levels, not even Delaney who had graduated at sixteen as a Master. Delaney was now self-studying toward moving onto rank eight and becoming a Grand Master.

  “He says he hopes to be ready for his next test soon. He can’t wait to add ano
ther scar—as he calls them—to his arms,” Delaney said, referring to the barely visible circular marks that appeared on the skin of a wizard as they moved higher up the magical scale.

  “How wonderful! I am so happy for him. He is that much closer to having a dragon of his own,” Edion said as he bit into a crisp apple slice. Idris was enamored of Delaney’s dragon familiar and had vowed from the moment he met little Greggory that he would have one someday.

  “Yeah, he mentioned Greggory three different times,” Delaney said as the dragon familiar in question gave a growly sound at hearing his name. Greggory was sitting in the little sink the D’Vaires had put in the kitchen island, eating his lunch. The dragon, Edion was told, made a mess of himself during mealtimes and so it was easier to just hose him down afterward. Edion was glad he wasn’t the only untidy eater in the family. “He asked how your Braille is coming along. I told him you were an expert by now.”

  “Hardly an expert but I am learning.”

  “Idris told me he’s going to call you when he has more time to talk,” Delaney said.

  “Good, I do look forward to speaking with him.”

  “Edion, I think I’ve come up with a way for you to be able to walk the grounds without getting lost. I’ve put the entire D’Vaire land into a giant magic bubble. If you get too close to the edge of our property, you’ll hear a buzzing sound and feel a heavy vibration. Madeline has made you a necklace that I imbued with magic. If you rub the medallion, wherever you are on our property, we can find you. So you can explore without fear,” Dra’Kaedan explained. Madeline was one of the D’Vaire dragons and a master of metalworking and other crafts. Her mate, Larissa, also a dragon, was their seamstress. Larissa had sewn Edion a veritable mountain of clothes all in the elven style of tunics and loose pants. She’d put elastic waistbands in the pants to make it easier for Edion to dress. Each outfit had a set of uniquely shaped buttons sewn inside so Edion could match the right tunic to the right pants. She took the time to describe the outfits to him and not surprisingly, he had been told there were always light shades of purple involved. Elves tended to dress in their tribe colors and Edion, with his lavender-tipped pale blond hair was no exception.