On 13 April 2016, these three words were chosen:
And these blurbs were written within five minutes….Enjoy!
She sat in the sill of a window all wrapped up in the blanket that was normally folded on the end of the bed. Jesse lay on the bed, the firelight dancing across his features as he slept. Her gaze fell to his lips still a little pink from the passionate kissing that had ended only a few minutes ago.
She smiled knowing that with one more of those kisses she could wake him again and this alone would cause his passion to spark and he would take her in only the way he could.
Their attraction was built on a fire that could not be contained, no time or distance could lessen how they felt with the barest of touches. A look alone could bring each of them to full arousal.
She smiled and turned to gaze out the window to watch the sea hitting the shore, there was only a sliver of the moon tonight to light the surf. It was almost as if even the gods knew where the heat should be held this night.
The sliver of moon light that came through the window cast a sad shadow on the kitchen tiles. Resca slipped a hand through the light and soaked in the small bit of energy. She glanced behind her and met Henrek’s deep blue eyes. They smiled even when his mouth didn’t. Always supporting, always her pillar. They stepped out the back door and met the orange gaze of the animals. They weren’t so much animals as they were creatures currently in a scary form.
“The hunt is necessary,” she stated softly, she knew their sharp ears could hear her. She lifted a hand and firelight appeared to guide her. She pointed with her other hand toward the sinister forest.
“She went through there only an hour ago. We must find her,” She looked them each in the eye, “and kill her.”
The firelight was often used as the window into another realm and, tonight, Maleck needed to see into this world more than ever. His palms were sweating from his nerves. It had all happened so quickly. She was taken by the swordsman while he slept, but it shouldn’t have been possible – not with all of the wards he had cast to keep them safe. He had underestimated the swordsman’s magic and now Kira was suffering the consequences. The only sliver of hope that he had left was to widen the window to the unknown realm in the hopes that he could pass through and pursue them.
Halley sat close to the fire, stuffing as much food as she could into her mouth. There was meat, and bread. Calahorn watched her, the firelight playing over his features. His gaze made her nervous, as if he could see through some window into her soul, to where she guarded her secret. A secret not dissimilar from his own. A sliver of moon shone down over them.
Halley leaned back, fully sated. While she was not starved by the elves, abundant food was not often available for the likes of her. Calahorn handed her a cloth to wipe the grease and crumbs from her face.
“We move in the morning,” he said. “You’ll not be kept prisoner, but if you betray us, my wrath will be swift and sure.”
Halley nodded and watched him disappear into the darkness behind the trees. She tucked her legs under her and let out a full breath in a shuddering sigh. Calahorn Tembry had rescued her. Though plagued with the question, she had been too afraid to ask why he had rescued her. He had not been forthcoming with the information. Halley wondered if any of the other men and women in the fae king’s court had been rescued along with her. Perhaps the fates had been smiling on her when she had been picked to dance that night, and not testing her, as she had suspected.
Her eyelids began to droop, and she fought sleep. There was no telling what these strange men who she now held company with would do, what spells they would unleash, what she might say when she was most vulnerable. She bit her lip at the thought. With Calahorn Tembry so close, the continued silence of what she knew was the only thing keeping her alive.
Temperance came up off her muddy knees, shivering, bone deep, as the cool night air froze her dress to her, and started crunching through the snow along a narrow deer trail. She’d successfully dragged herself out of the river, and needed to find shelter lest she perish before sunrise.
Suddenly, she say a flicker of light. Was it possible? It looked like firelight. She walked as quickly as she could, almost running. For a moment, it faded, but then she caught it again. Was that the same direction? Was she turned around? She knew of no houses out here in the woods to the east of the township. There was no one. Nothing before the vast ocean, as far as she knew.
An old cabin, impossibly old looking for the new world, appeared before her. Rickety, barely standing, but there did appear to be a fire, and smoke rose from the chimney. She walked in gingerly, quiet steps to a sliver of light at the window, hoping not to scare the inhabitant.
She looked in between the shutters. Two elderly women sat rocking before the fire, warm and cozy under homemade quilts.
“Hello dear,” said a voice behind her. “We’ve been expecting you.”
She whirled about, and found a very old crone, hair white as the winter sky, eyes too. It startled her.
“Come in before you freeze, child.”
First Class Sergeant Miller was hurled to the floor, hands grasping at the controls as he succumbed to the force of the huge ship slowing to a stop. Alarms cut off mid-blare, and the sudden silence was broken by some coughing and shuffling as baffled crew members found their footing. Miller pulled himself upright, fingers pressed deep into the metal frame of his display, and peered out the window. The blazing forge that was the planet had faded to a wisp of firelight.
“Sir,” he began in a voice that was way more calm than he felt, “we seem to have stopped above the surface of the planet.”
“It appears so,” the Commander observed. He gave the flight deck a once over, then resumed his normal commanding presence. “Report,” he ordered.
First Class Sergeant Miller wasn’t going to be put off that easily. “But…what happened?” he asked. “How did we stop? You…” he let the words trail off. “You didn’t do anything to save us!” He let the words hang in the air, then added lamely, “Sir.”
The Commander’s expression didn’t change as he considered Miller’s accusation, the man’s steely gaze unflinching. He said nothing.
Miller continued, trying to fill the void, “But sir…you always…always save us! You always have that last sliver of hope we need to save us!”
“We have been saved,” the Commander said. “Isn’t that enough?”