Anger
153 pages
English

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153 pages
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Description

As they make their way into the Realm, Averie and Silas find themselves in a race against time as they strive to remain undetected in their rush to meet up with the Rebellion.
Along the way, they meet a surprising new ally with alluring secrets and deadly motives of his own and come face to face with the ultimate enemy.
As Averie struggles to find her place and adapt to the world around her, training takes on a whole new meaning when Callen takes over as her trainer. Using unconventional methods, he forces her to deal with the past and accept what she cannot change.
While Silas fights to keep his past from colliding with his present, his lies draw the unwanted attention of an old friend. When everyone Averie cares about is threatened, she is forced to the frontlines, whether she is ready for it or not.

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Informations

Publié par
Date de parution 01 janvier 2021
Nombre de lectures 0
EAN13 9781644501177
Langue English
Poids de l'ouvrage 2 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0350€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

Table o f Contents
Dedication
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
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Epilogue
To be continued…
Mo re to Come
The Re alm Series
About the Author
C.R. Rice










Anger
Copyright © 2021 C.R. Rice. All rights r eserved.


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All rights to the work within are reserved to the author and publisher. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise, except as permitted under Section 107 or 108 of the 1976 International Copyright Act, without prior written permission except in brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Please contact either the Publisher or Author to gain per mission.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used ficti tiously.
Ebook ISBN: 978-1-644 50-111-5
Print ISBN: 978-1-644 50-112-2


Dedication

To Correy, for believing in me and your loving, yet forceful shove into the abyss of th e unknown.
Thank you.


Prologue

T he silvery moon hung high in the inky black sky when the silent veil tore. A tall figure stepped from its depths, a dark, grey hood clinging to its ethereal form. Though the air tingled with a fall, night, chill, no breath puffed from the figure, no breeze teased its cloak. As it stepped along, no sound echoed from its footsteps. Branches refused to crunch under its weight while rocks flung themselves aside, to avoid the determined force quickly making its way through the den se forest.
A family of cats stood frozen, wide-eyed as the figure passed, ignoring their existence. A few curious owls flew in lazy, but ever widening circles, their curiosity getting the better of them. A rather fearless squirrel nudged its friend from the hole they had nestled themselves into and began to follow the shadowed one. Darting from tree to tree, they stumbled and jumped, leaping from branch to branch as they raced themselves forward, playing a game of one-sided tag with the form. Suddenly the pair was pushed back by a strange unseen force, creating a translucent wall between them and their target. They lifted their lithe bodies against the strange wall. Bored with their adventures, and concerned about the change of the game’s rules, the squirrels turned back for the night, deciding to pursue safer a ctivities.
Satisfied that the curious tails were subdued, the dark figure pushed on, deeper into the thick, shadowed forest. Tonight was marked with great importance, and it couldn’t be impeded by a curious squirrel or stumbled upon by a wandering, clueless camper. The hooded one stalked across the ground, twisting and turning, to avoid fallen branches and crumbling rocks, relentless in its pursuit of its final de stination.
Finally, it came to an abrupt stop, its flowing cloak suddenly billowing, as if the wind had decided to comply. The figure scanned the small valley below. A quaint town laid sleepily below it, bathed in complete darkness. Events transpired in this place that were so dark, not even the moon’s silvery light could pierce its curse. There were no singing birds or scurrying squirrels, no rabbits, or any living thing for that matter, dared step from the thick forest surrounding it. Smoke billowed from still burning embers in the distance. The dense air had an acrid smell of ravaged dreams and lost hope. Decimated buildings crumbled and crashed in the distance, littering the once beautiful landscape. Like the final act to the apocalypse, hope had long since vanished, leaving only a portrait o f despair.
The figure stepped into the depths of a nearby shadow. Travel was easier when you weren’t constricted to the rules of this world. Peeling from the shadows within the vacant town a moment later, it toured the forsaken streets. The figure skillfully strode, never daring to let its cloak graze the sullen ground, as the rising sun’s first rays absorbed into the murky greyness of its cloth. Though the figure moved with grace and pride, any passerby would be blind to its distorted image. Not that anyone would as this cursed place had long been empty, happily forgotten. Like a terrible act erased from history, its survivors were happy to live on without its mention or memories.
As it moved, the figure’s assumed head shifted, side to side, taking in the cracked roads, the smoldering buildings, shattered windows, buckled roofs and torn awnings. If anyone dared to walk upon the tattered earth, glass would crunch underfoot, and long discarded bottles would be kicked from the path. Yet the figure continued on, as if this littered landscape we re normal.
Smoke swirled purposefully into the morning air, blocking the rising sun from a promising new day. Not that the figure minded the gloom, it had a mission and the brightness, or lack thereof, wouldn’t make an impact. Time was too valuable to spend worrying about such nonsense, even if someone or something, as the figure, had cared about things such as day and night or sunlight and warmth, which it most assuredly did not. Its movements continued, unyielding until a crumbled pile of mason laid before it.
The grey-and-black-stained stones that had once been hewn by a proud, aspiring architect, now lay in a meaningless heap, in a decrepit town, on this forgotten night. How far the building had fallen, how wonderfully this city had atrophied. The figure’s cloaked head shook slowly, as if bewildered by the beauty of the smoki ng rumble.
“What are you doing, Grey?” the wind whispered.
The hooded figure ignored the voice, traversing the rubble instead. A long, cloaked arm protruded, flicking back and forth as broken masonry tossed aside without a touch. The figure stood in silence, searching the wreckage.
“You’re not supposed to be there,” the wind snapped, its intensity growing as more pieces were tossed haphazardly about. “There are rules!” The air crackled as a frigid wind littered the stone ground with small icy crystals. Not that the figure minded, beings such as this couldn’t comprehend the exhilaration or misery of trivial things like human te mperature.
The figure ignored its surroundings as its pursuit escalated to a frantic note. By most standards, when doing something forbidden, one must approach with caution and silence. However, this wasn’t one of those times. The cloaked figure did not care about standard protocol. It did not care if it was caught, nor about immaterial things like caution an d silence.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” a calm, relaxed v oice said.
The figure barely spared a glance as a man appeared behind it.
“I am not here to stop you if that is your concern,” he continued, the crunch of his approaching steps, stuttering the cloaked one’s movements. “Only to referee a game I wish to have no part in.”
“Nothing to say?” he asked.
His only answer was another loud crash of a strow n boulder.
A dim light illuminated from the growing depths, revealing a deep red hue in the man’s gaze. “I see you’ve found what you came for.”
An uptick of the figure’s arm pulled the dim light from its grave, gracing the desolate area with its impossible, radiating glow. The figure snapped with impossible speed, swiping the object from the air and concealing in the inky depths of its cloak.
The man nodded to the figure. “You have what you sought,” he said. “Now leave th is place.”
“That is not yours to toy with, Grey,” the wind whispered.
“But now the games can really begin,” the figure’s voice grated through the hollowed city, long after it had disappeared into the gloom y shadows.
The man stood, stoic and bored. Things were definitely not going a s planned.


Chapter 1

“Y ou need to hide yourself better, Averie!” Silas admonished. “I can see every move you plan to make, every move you are thinking of making. If I can, so wil l Marcus!”
Averie was panting, her body nearing a complete shutdown. Exhaustion clung to her like a second skin these days. He never gave her a chance to recover, to truly rest. A part of Averie appreciated the long, tortuous hours driving the painful memory of Silas’s knowledge of her mother’s death away. It also, in some small and insignificant way, helped fill the void of Thane’s absence, or at least distracted her enou

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