Tempest (The Chronicles of Winterset Book 2)

  Tempest

  The Chronicles of Winterset

  K.G. Reuss

  Book Two

  Copyright Tempest: The Chronicles of Winterset © 2020 by K.G. Reuss

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  For those who waited five years.

  I told you I was working on it.

  Contents

  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

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  About the Author

  Also by K.G. Reuss

  Chapter 1

  He’s dead.

  The words repeated in my head, mercilessly bouncing off the walls of my grief-stricken mind. His face lingered in my thoughts, the tragedy written upon it, as I tumbled off the cliff. I kept seeing him fall beside me, giving his life so that I might live. His voice echoed in the darkness, telling me he loved me. I could feel the electricity charging through me, only mine now.

  He’s dead.

  I wanted to wake up from the terrible nightmare. I wanted to open my eyes and see Calix’s smiling face, feel his energy surge through me, and see his dark eyes shining brightly as he looked at me. I needed his touch, his kiss. I struggled against the force holding me down, against the pain in my heart, the realization that the man I loved was gone all because of me.

  I didn’t know where I was or how long I’d been there. Since the evening on the cliff, I hadn’t opened my eyes. It could’ve been a day, or it could’ve been a hundred. It didn’t matter. Time didn’t matter if Calix wasn’t there.

  I didn’t matter.

  I tuned out the concerned voices whispering around me. They sounded frantic and frightened, afraid I may never wake up. I didn’t want to wake up, but I knew it was inevitable, just like the future that was spread out before me. Calix died so I could live. But if living meant being without him, then I feared I was dying a million deaths.

  My throat tightened as tears begin to form. They squeezed out of my eyes in warm rivers and cascaded down my cold cheeks.

  A warm touch tenderly brushed them aside. A whisper sounded from far away.

  “It’s going to be OK,” the familiar deep voice murmured, an accent now touching what used to sound so different. “It has to be OK.”

  I breathed out and let the comfort of sleep take over.

  Chapter 2

  I winced as the tingling in my chest grew and slowly leaked throughout my body, blanketing me in comfortable warmth. I wiggled my fingers and toes, testing them to see if they still worked. There was something within me forcing me to wake up and face reality.

  I hadn’t opened my eyes in what felt like weeks, maybe even months. I shuddered to think how long I’d laid there, how long it had been since Calix held me.

  My eyelids fluttered, as I tried to force them open. I needed to know he was really gone. That this wasn’t a horrendous dream, another of my visions. With great effort, I willed my eyes to open.

  I stared blearily around the dark room in confusion, a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I knew from the soft, plush bed that this wasn’t my room, and if this wasn’t my room, then maybe everything I’d relived during my slumber had been real.

  Wincing, I struggled out of the bed. Gingerly, I rose, only to collapse in a heap on the cold, stone floor. I cried out as I made contact with it, my muscles screaming in agony as I tried to get them to work.

  Reaching out, I grasped at a large ornate rug and pulled myself across the floor, grimacing as the pain shot through my body like hot lightning. It felt like I’d been hit by a bus. I had to remind myself I’d fallen off a cliff and that was the reason for the soreness and tenderness in my body. A bus wasn’t really a far stretch.

  I continued my journey across the room and managed to almost make it to the door before the muscles in my arms gave out, leaving me in a helpless pile on the cool floor, shivering with tears streaming down my face.

  I licked my cracked lips and tried to call for help, but the rawness in my throat made it ache like it had a million tiny cuts in it.

  “H-help.” my voice cracked, barely above a whisper, as I tried to get someone’s attention. “P-plea-ease.”

  I called out again and again and was just about to resign myself to a night on the cold floor when the heavy doors to the room were thrown open, casting light inside. Footsteps rushed into the room.

  “Analia,” a familiar voice called out, the owner kneeling beside me and pushing my hair out of my face. “Go! Get help.”

  In one swift movement, the man reached down and pulled me into his arms, lifting me into the air.

  I opened my eyes enough to see his face and whimpered. “Not a dream,” I croaked out, staring into his bright blue eyes.

  “No, my dear sister, it’s not a dream,” Soran, my brother, murmured, gazing down at me with concern as he took me to my bed and laid me down in it, making sure to cover my body with the heavy blanket.

  “Calix,” I whimpered, my throat on fire. “Water.”

  “Get water,” Soran shouted.

  More footsteps rushed around. A moment later, a glass of water was thrust into Soran’s hand. He reached out and lifted my head up then pressed the glass to my lips. I gulped the cool contents down gratefully, finishing it in moments.

  “More,” I rasped.

  Soran nodded to someone I couldn’t see, and another glass was shoved into his outstretched hand. He placed it to my lips once more.

  I drank until I couldn’t drink anymore. Then Soran let my head fall back onto my soft pillow.

  “I’m so happy you’re awake,” Soran murmured, staring fondly down at me, brushing my hair away from my face. “I was so worried you never would. It’s been weeks since we brought you here.”

  “I don’t want to be awake,” I whispered. “If I’m awake and where I think I am, then that means everything is real—that it all happened.”

  Sora
n reached out and squeezed my hand gently and gave me a sad, watery smile.

  “It’s all real, baby sister. It all happened.”

  “No.” I shook my head, the very idea making me crazy with grief. “No.”

  My voice cracked, and my body shuddered with my cries as I struggled against the truth. He really was gone. It hadn’t been a bad vision. It had all been real. Calix really was dead, and I was to blame. He died for me.

  “Analia,” my brother said painfully, reaching out to comfort me.

  I pushed him away, my muscles screaming at me to stop, but I wouldn’t.

  “No. No. No.” I screamed over and over, each cry becoming louder than the last, my body trembling violently with the truth. A rush of heat flowed through me, and I let it out, knowing the damage it could cause but not caring.

  The thunder rolled, and the wind howled outside the castle. Lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating my dimly lit room. The room shook, causing trinkets and furniture to tremble across the stone floor.

  “Get the Left Hand. Quick,” Soran shouted to someone.

  I ignored the hurried footsteps as they rushed from my room. I screamed and screamed despite my brother’s attempts to calm me.

  “Father,” Soran shouted as footsteps rushed to my bedside.

  “Analia,” my father, the king, called out to me as the wind blew harder, causing the windows to fling open and the curtains to billow across the room.

  “What’s happening?” my father demanded, his voice filled with worry.

  I ignored it. I ignored him, unable to stop the grief flowing out of me.

  “She only just woke. I found her on the floor by her door,” Soran explained in a rush, reaching down to hold me to the bed as I struggled beneath him.

  I gnashed and bucked against his strong arms, my grief pouring freely from me as I continued to wail in pain and anguish at Calix’s death.

  More footsteps rushed into the room, and my father shouted commands.

  “Ana,” that familiar accented voice breathed out. He sank down next to me, effectively pushing Soran away, who didn’t fight the intrusion. “Look at me, Ana.” His calm voice echoed all around me and was even in my head.

  I focused my wide eyes on him and took in the familiar blond locks that fell across his forehead, his full lips, his bright blue eyes—Kellin.

  “Ana,” he whispered my name again, his eyes intent on mine. “It’s OK. It’s going to be OK. I’m here.”

  “Kellin,” I choked out, the storm continuing to rage, the room trembling from the onslaught.

  “It’s me,” he murmured, reaching out to brush the tears away. “It’s me, Ana. Be calm.”

  “Calix?” I asked, hoping for a different truth.

  He shook his head sadly at me, tears brimming his brilliant eyes.

  “No.” I shook my head. “No.”

  I yelled out again, the storm strengthening. Glass shattered, and the hurried footsteps sounded out around me as those in the room tried to avoid getting pelted by things whipping around by the wind rushing in through the windows.

  Kellin reached out and lifted me into his arms then held me against his hard chest.

  “Leave us,” he commanded the others in the room. “It’s unsafe for you in here.”

  “Do as he says,” my father shouted.

  The click of the door sounded behind them as they exited in a rush.

  “Let it out, Ana. Let it all out,” Kellin whispered into my hair as he held onto me tightly. The muscles in his arms hardened as he maintained his hold.

  I cried and screamed until I no longer had a voice or energy. Then I lay limp in his arms, the storm finally dying down, and the shaking in the room ending.

  He held onto me wordlessly, his arms cradling me like I was a broken child. In many ways, I was.

  “This isn’t the end, Ana,” he murmured. “It may feel like you’ve died a thousand deaths, but trust me, you’ve only just started to live. You’ll see.”

  He laid me gently back onto my bed and stared down at me, his sapphire eyes shining brightly, a blanket of grief shadowing them.

  “You need rest. Real rest,” he whispered as he leaned down and pressed his warm lips to my forehead tenderly. He lifted his hand and placed it on my head. I didn’t fight him as he stared down at me.

  “I wish I could take the pain away, Ana, but I cannot. I can only be here for you throughout the storm. I’m so sorry,” his voice wavered. “Now sleep, Princess. Tomorrow is a new day, and with it comes a new hope, a new life.”

  Warmth swept through me at his touch. Kellin dropped his hand from my forehead. I struggled to stay awake, to keep my focus on the one familiar thing I had left, but he slipped away as my consciousness faded out, leaving me to a peaceful slumber, his calming voice echoing in my ears.

  Chapter 3

  I slept peacefully without a single dream plaguing my mind. When I awoke, the sunlight streamed in through the large windows in my bedroom. The room had been completely cleaned from my outburst the previous night.

  I sat up, cleared my throat, and looked around. Now that it was daylight, I could see the room was spacious with ornate furniture strategically placed. The seats were covered in soft velvets of varying shades of red and purple. There were large floor-to-ceiling windows, and a massive stone balcony adorned with flowers and hanging green moss. It was the exact same room from the visions I’d had when I’d been back home.

  Home.

  It was just as gone as Calix was. I choked down the tears threatening to erupt at the thought of him.

  “Milady,” a timid voice cut through my thoughts, and I turned my head to see a small, beautifully dressed female with her light brown hair done up in a tight bun. She stood awkwardly in my doorway for a moment, and I figured she was roughly the same age as me. “I’m Brena, your handmaiden. I’m here to make sure you’re well enough to bathe and meet with the king and queen this morning.”

  “Where’s Kellin?” I asked, my heart beating nervously in my chest.

  “Milady, I’m sorry. I don’t know of a Kellin,” she apologized, stepping into my room and going to the large wardrobe in the corner and pulling out an exquisite, long emerald green gown with ornate gold stitching.

  I watched as she moved garments aside. Her ears came to a slight point, and on instinct, I reached out to touch mine. They too had changed to feel as if they had a slight point to them. As if I didn’t already have enough to concern myself with.

  She came to my bedside and held her hand out to me. I placed mine gingerly in hers as she pulled me to my feet. I collapsed back onto the bed, my muscles too weak to maintain my balance.

  “I’m sorry,” I winced, a fat tear leaking from my eye.

  “Milady, you don’t need to apologize to me,” Brena sympathized. “You’ve been sleeping for many days. Your muscles aren’t working as they should. Gregor says that once you’re up and about, you may call on him, and he’ll come heal you the best he can. He tried before but was unable.”

  “Who’s Gregor?” I asked softly, eyeing the pretty dress Brena laid on the bed.

  “Gregor is the castle healer. He’s quite good,” she replied with a smile. It was apparent she favored him for whatever reason. But I supposed I’d probably favor someone who could heal me too in a world where electricity was unheard of.

  I remained silent as she helped steady me and led me to a large bathroom through a doorway in my room. I stared in wonder at it. Besides being enormous, it was situated with a large walkout stone balcony. White gossamer curtains moved gently in the warm breeze. The room was filled with the prettiest assortment of flowers. In the very center of the room was a carved stone tub which could easily fit ten people. The steam from the water ebbed up in white tendrils as red rose petals danced along the surface.

  “This is beautiful,” I murmured in awe as I took it in.

  “Yes, milady. It’s quite beautiful,” Brena agreed, pride emanating from her now stronger voice. “Most of th
e rooms in the palace have these bathrooms in them. They’re a welcome place to relax.”

  “I bet,” I whispered, skimming my fingers along the surface of the perfectly tempered water.

  Brena assisted me with undressing, and I slid gratefully into the warm water and let it wash over me. It was deep enough that it covered my entire body. I rested my head against the side of the stone tub and closed my eyes.

  Brena moved to perch on the edge of the tub, and she gently poured a cup of water on my head. I let her wash my hair and took the soap she offered me. I lifted it to my nose. It smelled wonderful, a delicate floral scent, a scent unlike anything I’d ever experienced before.

  After my bath, Brena dressed me in the pretty, green, floor-length gown and did my hair. She twisted it and braided it, sending cascades of curls and braids down my back. I admired her work in the mirror sadly. Calix would’ve told me I looked beautiful despite the large black circles which hugged my green eyes and the frown carved into my face.

  Hastily, I wiped the tears from my eyes, and Brena gave me another sympathetic look. She looked like she wanted to say something but was cut off by the knocking on my bedroom door. Soran entered, and I spun to stare at him.