About the Book
The people of Kaya die in pairs. When one lover dies, the other does too. So it has been for thousands of years – until Ava.
For although her bondmate, Avery, has been murdered and Ava’s soul has been torn in two, she is the only one who has ever been strong enough to cling to life. Vowing revenge upon the barbarian queen of Pirenti, Ava’s plan is interrupted when she is captured by the deadly prince of her enemies.
Prince Ambrose has been brought up to kill and hate. But when he takes charge of a strangely captivating Kayan prisoner and is forced to survive with her on a dangerous island, he must reconsider all he holds true …
In a violent country like Pirenti, where emotion is scorned as a weakness, can he find the strength to fight for the person he loves … even when she’s his vengeful enemy?
Published as part of the Random Romance series, Avery is a sweeping, romantic fantasy novel about loss and identity, and finding the courage to love against all odds.
Contents
Cover
About the Book
Title Page
Dedication
Map
Epigraph
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
Epilogue
Extract from Thorne
About the Author
More Random Romance
Copyright Notice
Loved the book?
For my father
Epigraph
The people of Kaya die in pairs. With the forging of the soul magic, so is forged an unbreakable bond between those in love. When one dies, so shall the other, and forever will it remain so …
– extract from the words of Agathon of Sancia,
First Warder of Kaya
Forged in iron are men.
Bound for the earth are women.
– extract from The Song of Pirenti
Prologue
Avery
The worn, wooden handle of my axe feels comforting in my hands. The weight of it is familiar, and the heady smell of resin fills my nostrils as I methodically work my hands around the wood. The fortress on the other side of this forest belongs to the Barbarian Queen of Pirenti, and in that fortress are the fiercest, most brutal warriors in the world. It is their stronghold, supposedly impossible to penetrate, and here we stand, about to try.
I wouldn’t mind so much if Ava were not standing amidst our small force.
In the quiet of the forest, I cast my eyes around at our group. The three warders have started to glow a brilliant blue colour, their long white hair floating eerily with the strength of their power. Their eyes have shifted to the shade of falling snow, and there is a deadly readiness to the way they stand, alert and gazing towards their mark.
I feel my lips curve in appreciation of them – at the thought of how they terrify the Pirenti. Nigh on impossible to kill, the warders are our greatest weapons.
As I tuck my black hair behind my ears, I catch Ava watching me and meet her violet eyes. She smiles her wild smile, the hungry one, and no matter how many times she smiles at me like that, I always have the same, ridiculous reaction. You’d think our bodies would get used to the closeness of each other, but they never do.
Our leader, Gidion, has a face that is scarred and ugly from all the battles he’s fought, but he looks eager in the way we all do. If we succeed, this could very well end many years’ worth of bloodshed. That thought alone is why Ava and I are here. Something has to be done, or the fighting will never end.
‘Avery,’ Gidion addresses me. ‘You take the lead.’
I nod, feeling the weight of this settle on me. We are leaving the pegasi hidden behind the cover of trees. They need not be tethered; the proud flying horses are tied to us from birth and cannot take to the air unless given permission.
The wild forest doesn’t make a sound as we move silently through it. I fall into step next to Ava. She doesn’t speak – we’ve nearly made it out of the cover of trees and there’s no time for any of the words we might want to say. No need for them either, really.
The drawbridge at the entrance is easy enough to move through when you are protected by warders’ magic, and we walk straight through the enormous front hall. Soldiers are everywhere and the noise is deafening. They sit at row upon row of tables, shouting and laughing and eating, bristling with the brutality unique to their kind. Ava’s heart quickens – I can feel it inside my chest cavity. She can’t help staring at these men as we make our way through, careful not to touch or jostle anyone. Pirenti soldiers look nothing like Kayans – these men are huge and beastly, and there is a deep sense of wildness to them. There are no women in this hall of soldiers – here women are considered inferior and would never be allowed to fight.
All but one, of course: the Barbarian Queen wages wars from her blood-soaked throne, demanding always that she be surrounded by men, and men only.
The top floor. That’s where she’ll be. But there are at least fourteen floors in this fortress, and hundreds of soldiers to trick our way past.
We’ve nearly made it to the end of the hall when an enormous man walks straight through the edge of the warder’s shield, cutting a path between us and the rest of our group. Ava and I are forced out and through a separate exit. We’re dressed in the castle’s colours, so we won’t immediately be recognised, but still – this isn’t part of the plan.
‘Wonderful,’ she mutters. Thankfully, there’s no one in the stone corridor. My dark eyes flash as I meet her gaze.
‘Top floor, right?’ Ava murmurs, reaching out to squeeze my hand briefly.
‘Too dangerous without the warders, petal,’ I tell her. ‘We get out now.’
‘Avery, come on.’ Her eyebrows arch. Up this close I can see the smattering of freckles on her sun-drenched cheeks, and the purple of her eyes is impossibly bright. ‘Please don’t tell me I’ve fallen in love with a coward.’
The familiar scent of her lavender soap drifts past me and for a moment the bond that ties us together flares and changes our eyes to a shining gold.
‘Ava,’ I sigh, ‘I really don’t want you hurt. Understood?’
‘Whatever, Ave. Let’s go already.’
The two of us aren’t given second looks, with Ava dressed as a man, her beautiful golden locks pinned up under a cap. Back home, she’s famous for her hair. The first time I ever saw her, it was because of that hair.
Moving swiftly, we reach the top floor. I’m dressed in the garb of one of the inner-circle guards, so we shouldn’t be stopped, even here. I notice Ava fingering the long dagger at her belt and silently will her not to be reckless.
There is a large room at the end of the hallway. The doors are open, but our view is blocked by the people milling around. They part, and I am faced with something so painful I could not have imagined it before this moment. The room beyond is huge, and, unlike the rest of the grey stone fortress, it sparkles gold and ivory. The walls and ceiling are carved with a craftsmanship that seems utterly at odds with the brutish nature of the people who inhabit it. To the east is a huge, open window, which frames the dazzling sun as it sinks below the oc
ean and casts the whole room in a reddish, golden glow.
I am abruptly unmoored, as though my heart has been exposed by the force of such unexpected grandeur and intricacy and colour. Because here, amongst the terrible beauty of this room, I realise that people are being slaughtered.
There are bodies on the white marble floor – mangled, broken bodies stewing in pools of blood. The sight of it is bruising, altering; it takes my breath away.
I understand the cruelty of the Barbarian Queen, now. She could have her prisoners executed anywhere but she chooses this room, with all its splendour; the cunning behind such an act is destructive beyond anything I can comprehend.
More prisoners are lined up to be slaughtered and dozens watch on, as though it’s the most natural sight in the world. Forcing myself back to clarity, I move through the crowd towards the prisoners. Ava slips to the back to scan the proceedings. We’re the first here – the task is ours. I should have known it would be this way.
At the far end of the room there is an ivory throne, and on it sits the Queen of Pirenti. One by one, people are led into the centre of the room to have their throats slit while she watches on. I look at her, stunned by the ferocity of her gaze – we’ve all heard stories about the ruthlessness of this Queen, but this is … different. The grey-haired woman before me, dressed in animal fur, watches those being slaughtered and she smiles as if excited by the carnage.
I drag my eyes from the gruesome sight before me and see Ava edging towards the window. The drop to the ground is catastrophic, but soon there won’t be much time for anything else. I can feel Ava readying her pegasis for the jump.
The line of prisoners is shuffled forward – I’m close enough now to feel the hot skin of a young man brush against my arm and quickly take hold of him. He’s Kayan, as I am, which is most likely the only reason he’s about to die.
The Queen waves her hand, the edge of her mouth curling in anticipation. The world slows, stretches out; my focus hones into a knifepoint as sharp as the one in my fingertips. I raise the blade as if to slice through the prisoner’s throat, but instead flick my wrist with a quiet madness in my muscles. The knife leaves my hand, thrown through the air, and I watch as it spins over and over, winking in the candlelight until the blade is suddenly gone, buried deep within the Queen’s side.
A moment of silence, of stillness, as if time has paused. A gasp of horror shivers through the room, and then there is chaos.
I turn to see that Gidion has arrived and is waiting with Ava. But I know, as well as I know anything, that I will never be able to reach them. There are too many guards surrounding me. There were always going to be too many.
They shepherd me towards the Queen. She rises to her feet, clutching the knife in her side. It wasn’t a good enough shot. As simple as that. I’ve destroyed everything we’ve been fighting for, any chance at peace we might have had, all because my throw wasn’t good enough. The Queen’s pale blue eyes glisten as she bears down on me.
I have to do something. Because if I die here, so will Ava. And that I cannot allow.
I square my shoulders as best I can, staring at the Barbarian Queen and trying to think of a way out. I’ve never really hated anyone until this moment. Her face is right up close to mine, her eyes glittering. There is no sign that she even feels the knife protruding from her abdomen. Remnants of beauty line her age-weathered face, but they are obscured by the deadness of her eyes. It startles me, the vacancy hidden behind all this blood lust.
My eyes scan and see a gap – I might be able to make it. If I can reach the daggers at my belt, I can get through and—
Hope dies like a flame that has been doused.
For a man has appeared by the Queen’s side, and I know exactly who he must be. He is too huge, too tattooed, too scarred to be anyone other than the elder prince. They say he’s a beast, this man. That he has berserker blood in his veins and that he’s accomplished the impossible feat of killing five warders. I’m a good fighter, but I know, even as I look at him – at the kind of monstrosity who could only ever be born in Pirenti – that I won’t be able to escape. His blue eyes, icy like his mother’s, are shining with lust as he holds fast to my arms with a grip like iron.
And so. And so you come to the end after all, with no way out, no choice at the last on how you leave the world. I should have known it would be this way: bloody and violent and surrounded by beauty.
There’s only one thing left to do. I turn my head and find Ava. Her eyes burn a brilliant gold, the colour of the bond, and I feel my own flash in response. A terrifying despair, unlike anything she’s ever known, is taking over her body – I can feel it and it’s tearing me apart. I feel frightened now, deeply frightened, but not for myself.
You join souls once in this life, and once only.
Leave, I tell her through the bond. Please. I need you to leave.
Not without you, she whispers into me. Never without you.
That’s all the time we have left, because as Ava watches, transfixed by the horror of it, the Barbarian Queen we’d so foolishly come to assassinate wrenches my dagger from her body and sheathes it violently into my heart. A cry escapes Ava’s mouth as she feels the impact the same way I do. She feels my heart in her chest as it shudders in shock.
As the woman stabs me over and over again, enjoying the primal cruelty of it, I see Gidion take hold of Ava’s shoulders and pull her backwards out of the window. She disappears beyond my sight, and for a moment I lie still, feeling nothing. The Queen continues to stab me, but her prince has let go, and now simply watches. There is no lust in his eyes anymore. He meets my gaze and I imagine he is very tired. In this moment, he is bigger than the world, bigger than life. He takes up every space left to me, because he is looking into my eyes with an impossibly vast sense of understanding. He knows me, knows who I am and what I am here to die for. For a second, it is strange to me that I should be met now with something as profoundly intimate as that look, but then the thought drifts away on a current of exhaustion.
My blood seeps over the stone flaggings and my vision goes black. I can sense that my dying, flailing soul has torn Ava’s out of her body, and now both halves lie on the floor beside me. The bond will never break. Not even after death. It has simply torn the two of us to pieces.
My eyes flutter open once more, to glimpse the blood-streaked sky through the window. I close them for the last time, and I’m met with the memory of her hair, way out at sea. It enfolds me, wrapping me up and carrying me away with it, warm and perfect and endless.
The people of Kaya die in pairs. So it is and will always be.
But even now, at the very last, even knowing how desperately she will suffer because of me, I simply cannot bring myself to see the bond as a curse.
Anyone who does, clearly never bonded with Ava of Orion.
Chapter 1
Ambrose
I was already walking across the frosted ground when the sun rose, my boots crunching, breath making clouds in the air. At the end of the stone walkway was a set of steps, and as I followed these down into the cold earth, I was aware of nothing more than the deafening beat of my heart.
Once in the dark, I lit a torch and carried it with me, through a stone tunnel that twisted and turned, and took me deeper under the world than any man should go.
At the end of the tunnel was a crypt, and here I stopped, sure and unsure and colder than I’d been in years.
Setting the torch in the wall bracket, I stepped inside and stared at the stone slab.
Memories flickered like ravens’ wings at the edge of my sight. I didn’t let them come any closer.
I saw his shadow first, a shadow that belonged to a giant. His hand on my shoulder, then his voice behind me, rough like gravel under boots.
‘You were banned from here long ago.’
I didn’t reply. He remembered that day as well as I did.
‘I’ll have to report it.’
That’s when I stepped away from his hand.
Glancing over my shoulder to look at my brother, I merely shook my head, too tired to play this game. As I looked at him, I missed him, physically missed him.
‘Why this fixation?’ Thorne asked. ‘Why must you come here?’
I walked around the slab, running a finger over the smooth granite.
He folded his arms decisively. He was impatient, and always, always quick to anger.
‘He was weak, you were strong. There is nothing else. Stay away from this place, little brother. Don’t let it twist your head.’
I watched him walk up the steps and disappear, knowing he’d go straight to inform Ma of where I’d been. He was a simple man.
I stayed a moment longer looking at the grave, my father’s grave. Then, because this was where my nightmares waited for me and I could only face them for a few minutes at a time, I followed Thorne up into the daylight to await whatever punishment met me.
As evening neared, I slung my bow over my shoulder and struck out beyond the wall. Guards on watch duty saluted me as I passed, and I nodded before pushing myself into a run. Quickening my pace as the forest closed in around me, I breathed deeply, seeking the scent of game for hunting.
What I found instead was the smell of lavender soap.
Stopping dead in my tracks, I took another deep breath, mystified by the scent and where it could be coming from. Tracking it southeast brought me closer to the ocean, and then up into the canopy of the trees. Swinging up through the branches, I made it all the way to the top of a massive elm before finding a clear view of the sky.
And that was when I saw him.
A boy, slender in size, riding a glorious pegasis. The creature’s pelt was a perfect white, its wings blood red and stretching to infinity. I peered closely as they soared through the air, watching the twists and turns and swoops of legs and arms and wings.
As I gazed, I came to learn something about the boy in the sky. The winged horse he rode was moving in a way I’d seen less than a handful of times before. This was rider and mount reflected, the heart of a rider threading its way through the muscles of the animal. And in those muscles was an aggressive, aching fearlessness – an unnatural fearlessness. Those who could ride their pegasis without fear were the most formidable, the most terrifying. In a way, it was something to envy. In another, it was deeply repulsive, for to have no fear surely meant you’d lost a part of your soul, and that was the darkest fate a man could have.