I’m starting something new. Since my third book Wynter Reign is coming out soon, I thought I would treat you all to a free chapter read every Sunday for the next 38 weeks, with the first book: Eyes of Wynter.
If you can’t wait to see the next chapter the following week, I invite you to visit Eyes of Wynter available on Amazon. This book is also available on Kindle Unlimited.
Time has a way of spinning out of control. It doesn’t always go according to plan. One minute, life is beautiful, fast-growing, and in that moment, we feel alive.
Seasons bring change to that existence, making it a constant struggle.
In between these two is my coexistence where reality becomes a choice, a path for the future. This presence is where my fate begins.
Time heals all wounds they say. I’d like to know who “they” are.
As for me, my wounds are clearly open…
Eyes of Wynter : Prologue
“Quick, she’s coming,” my sister calls out, as I glance over my newborn baby with fear. Gazing at her in my arms, I wonder how we will keep her safe from the evil that is about to be forced upon her. Hair black as night, green eyes bright as emeralds, she’s a little image of me. Sarmira, the evil queen, has me right where she wants me, or so she thinks. Me in her clutches, taking the last of our bloodline. Over my dead body. She will not win the battle this night.
My sister prepares our bags while my husband stands guard at the door. “I hear the shadows of silence coming,” he says. “We must hurry if we are all to get out of here in time.”
“I’m too weak. I cannot go with you,” I say, looking over at him. “Please, take this.” I rip the chain from around my neck, handing it to him. “Give this to our daughter. Have her wear it always. It will protect her from Sarmira.”
His blue eyes glow with fury and fear, and I can see the rage inside him. I know he doesn’t like my idea to stay behind, but what other choice do we have?
“I can hold her off, but only for a little while,” I say with urgency.
“I can’t take this,” he says, holding the chain between his fingers. “She will destroy you without it.”
“You must, my love, to protect our daughter. It is the only way to buy you time to the portal.” I place the swaddled baby in a hand-woven basket beside the bed. “There is no time to waste. She’s closing in. I feel it,” I voice with firmness, pushing the basket towards my sister to grab. “She will kill us all. It’s the baby she’s after.”
“How do you know all this, Isalora? I won’t leave you,” he protests. I see the pain written on his face.
“My father came to me in a dream warning me of the prophecy. Our daughter is the key to Sarmira’s destruction. You must go, now!”
“I sense her company getting near,” my sister says. “We need to leave if we are to escape her wrath.”
Tears fall from my eyes, and I feel the wetness cool my cheeks. “Promise me you will protect them, my sweet sister,” I say.
“With my life,” she says, and she kisses my forehead.
Then gripping my husband’s hand, I stand, saying, “Sarmira’s presence is growing closer with each second that passes. Leave now, before it is too late.”
He gently hands me the Elven valiancium dagger crafted in labradorite. “Take this, for your protection,” he persists, and not waiting a moment more, they leave. I hear my baby’s whimpering cry echo down the hall and fade away.
I grab parchment from my nightstand along with a pen. Not much time to write a letter. I need to warn them about the secret I bear. Sarmira may think she has the upper hand, but little does she know what I have up my sleeve.
Chanting the spell aloud, I say:
On this full moon night, I claim what is right.
Binding them by three, one then they shall be.
When the Super Blue Blood Moon ascends,
The ties that bind then amends.
I burn the handwritten letter in a leather-bound coffer, placing my spellbook over the ashes, and close the lid.
Anticipating my time is short I position the box behind the stone fireplace, concealing it well, and wait for Sarmira. With my dagger in hand, I gently kiss the blade and chant another spell.
The full moon brightens the darkness in the room. The oil lamp flickers on my nightstand revealing to me that she’s near. So, I tuck the hilt behind my skirt and wait patiently.
Seconds later, the door bursts open in a vengeful thrust, forcing the kerosene light to blow out.
Continue to read here:
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Imani L Hawkins & Tyrone Hawkins
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