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Lychos Cycle

I’m an international, multiple award-winning author with a passion for the voices in my head. As a singer, songwriter, independent filmmaker and improv teacher and performer, my life has always been about creating and sharing what I create with others. Now that my dream to write for a living is a reality, with over a hundred titles in happy publication and no end in sight, I live in beautiful Prince Edward Island, Canada, with my giant cats, pug overlord and overlady and my Gypsy Vanner gelding, Fynn. Reluctant Princess “Syd,” I say. “If I were to step down as heir, would there be a place for me here?” She reaches out and takes my hand again. “Without question,” she says. “Any time, come as you are, you betcha. And hell no. Yes, because I miss you and love you and it’s not the same without you. The kids adore you, life is better when you’re here.” She looks away from me, up at the star-filled sky. Her sorrow is a living thing between us, my wolf snuffling at it and whining. “And no, because you are so much more than a servant to anyone. And if you came back, I’d worry it was for the wrong reasons.” Seven years have passed since Charlotte took her place as heir to the werenation. Still unmated and resisting her position, she longs for freedom she will never have, and life with a mortal man she loves. When a powerful new pack appears, Charlotte is instantly suspicious. Cicero Caine and his weres aren’t exactly what they seem. But the arrival of old enemies and a rising threat to all werewolves throws the wereprincess into the middle of a vast conspiracy, challenging the very foundations of what she’s been taught to believe.

Patti Larsen · Kỳ huyễn
Không đủ số lượng người đọc
98 Chs

Chapter 43: Emerging

I pull over in a small town for gas, and at a late-night deli for food. There is no hostel, and I'm just as glad. Stopping right now will only put us in unnecessary danger.

We park in an abandoned farmyard to eat and have a quick rest, the hulking, empty house shadowing us from sight. Sage devours his food as quickly as he had before, though he seems more aware and less savage about it. I allow a few hours to close my eyes in the shelter of the empty home and crumbling outbuildings. We probably shouldn't stop, but I have to catch rest when I can. I can't burn out until I've found what I'm looking for.

A solid five hours of sleep does me a world of good, though I shudder at the black holes of the home's dark windows, feeling as though it's watching us, waiting to see what we'll do. Abandoned places have always given me the creeps, reminding me of years of loneliness I'll never get back.