Fervor (The Fervor Chronicles Book 1) Read online

  Fervor

  Lynn Carmer

  Fervor

  By Lynn Carmer

  Ebook ISBN: 978-0-9861308-5-4

  Copyright © 2010, 2015 by Lynn Carmer

  Kindle Edition

  Cover Design: Judy Bullard

  www.customebookcovers.com

  Editor: Mae South

  www.badmamamae.com

  ALL RIGHTS RESEVED

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents are all products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Fervor

  His world is on fire.

  A wrathful volcano is about to devour King Arun’s desert realm. With only days to total destruction, he dives through a mysterious portal in hopes of finding refuge for his people, but instead he arrives in a land of ice. Kidnapped and enslaved in this frozen hell, he spots her, his fervor. Her presence alone brings him into the full strength of his people, but his new power is dangerous and unpredictable. Somehow he must escape his captors and save himself, his kingdom, and the woman that is destined for him.

  She has a heart of ice.

  Princess Caprice Nue’mon of the Glissante is unable to touch another living soul, as one brush of her skin ends in icy, painful death. Caprice has a secret, though. She can control the freeze. Unlike the vicious and emotionless aristocracy of her kingdom, she craves touch, passion, and fire—all liabilities in the world of Glissante nobility. Dreading her destiny to marry a man she has never met, Caprice is still terrified when a striking but battered slave frees himself—and runs straight for her. Kidnapped, she must save herself, rescue her best friend from deadly politics, and find a way home.

  Other Books by Lynn Carmer

  Contemporary Romance

  Just For Tonight (Victoria Bay Series) Book 1

  Just Don’t Go (Victoria Bay Series) Book 2

  Charm School After Dark (Charm School Series) Lesson 1

  Paranormal/Sci-Fi Romance

  The Lasting

  Fervor

  Title under Rena Josephe (Lynn Carmer)

  Urban Moon Anthology—Midnight Pyre

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  About the Book

  Other Books by Lynn Carmer

  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

  Note from the Author

  Contact Me

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Prologue

  ‡

  Legend claims many years ago—perhaps a million plus one, there lived a poor young boy who came from the land of forever night. Countless evenings he gazed upon the inky blackness of the sky, listening to the stories of the land of forever light. It was said a princess lived there who held such beauty, she was lit from within and glowed a fiery red.

  Determined, he set out to find this princess and lay eyes on a woman so perfect and so rare that she would blind him with her light. How he craved the light!

  The journey was arduous. Exhausted from hunger and lack of sleep, convinced he would never make it, he stumbled upon her palace. The gods had smiled down upon him, for there she sat, ablaze on her throne for all the kingdom to see.

  His heart swelled, warming every inch of his battered body. Every ache and pain had been worth the chance to gaze upon her glowing skin. More beautiful than he could imagine, her light seemed to ignite something within him, something he’d craved for years.

  Love.

  In an instant, he understood its power. He could never have her, but he would see her up close, just once. The compulsion to explain his feelings overwhelmed him. She would be his first thought when he awoke and the last before he went to sleep. For him, there could be no other.

  His greatest hope was to reflect back all the light that poured from her soul into him, so she could have the smallest taste of how bright she shone.

  Stealing into her room late at night, he found the princess awake… and waiting. She had noticed him too, drawn to his darkness, and had prayed each night he would find her. Falling into each other’s arms, they shared one glorious night, the balance of light and dark intertwining their souls for eternity.

  One gloriously beautiful, short-lived night.

  The next morn, they were discovered. Infuriated, her father sentenced them to death, disgusted his purebred daughter, born of the light, had found comfort in the arms of peasant, born of the land of night.

  The boy railed at his fate, screaming to the heavens, pleading for mercy. The sheer force of the boy’s pain awakened the sleeping gods from their slumber. Touched by his fervor, they considered intervening, but their musings often took lifetimes for the gods had no sense of mortal time.

  But the wily king did not wait for the gods, thinking his crime could be blamed on another. He killed the couple and tossed their bodies off the highest cliff.

  Infuriated by the king’s perfidy, the gods killed him and used his bones to scoop up the young lovers’ souls.

  The princess was placed high in the sky, a blazing ball of light. The boy’s soul was broken into a million pieces, with the largest piece, his heart, closest to the light. The gods had granted his fondest wish; he would forever reflect back the light and love given by his princess.

  Balance was restored and the young lovers would remain in the sky together, a reminder to never betray the gods.

  She, the sun.

  He, the moon and stars.

  This would be the last time the mighty gods rose from their slumber, no longer interested in the petty concerns of humans. So they slept, a long, deep sleep even the most ardent cries could not penetrate. The planet, long neglected, became stagnant without the gods’ attention, no longer rotating on its axis. A planet of extremes, one side forever facing the moon, the other facing the blazing sun. One side bathed in icy cold, the other in blazing heat. The neglect was too extreme, and soon all life began to die.

  But the sun and the moon had a secret: life born of one night in each other’s arms. A strip of land, a thousand miles across, ran down the center of the planet. On this land, this ledge, the young lovers’ passion overlapped and created life. The sun and the moon shone upon the land, and their love produced life.

  Now, people possessed by all the blessings given by the moon and the sun, lived together on the planet of fire and ice.

  Chapter 1

  ‡

  Two weeks until the end of the world.

  Mother Cay was furious. She was going to set the world on fire and revel in the burn.

  King Arun of the Fiera stood framed against the blazing sun. He watched the tufts of smoky clouds billow from the volcano that sat snuggled in the heart of the Cayan Mountains. His lungs burned wi
th the effort to take in air. Rivers of lava rolled down the hillside, sizzling and burning with every greedy inch gained.

  Damn volcano! Why now?

  With a sigh, he turned from the smoldering mountain, and his eyes took in the beauty of his kingdom. His castle stood alone, surrounded by the rocky Hamada, a landscape of gravel, boulders and bare, white rock that ran as far as the eye could see.

  Sweat rolled into his eyes; he brushed away the moisture with the back of his hand. The heat of the sun was capable of sizzling a man’s skin, but he didn’t give it a second thought. His people had survived generations at the south-easternmost portion of the ledge, positioned closer to the sun than any other tribe.

  A barren wasteland centuries before, his kingdom was now a thriving mecca. His father, and now he and his brothers, had made sure of it. Countless wars had driven their people farther east and they had finally settled and created beauty, wealth, prosperity for so many. Now all that would be destroyed.

  Rock crumbled under his feet as he made his way to the summit, following the winding path that wrapped itself around the mountain. He had to make it before sunset, had to fight against the inevitable.

  Nine hells! I need more time.

  He wanted to howl at the gods, beg for help, for forgiveness, anything that would bring some relief, but what was the point? None would answer. The gods had long ago forgotten their people. Soon the small homes made of glistening white marble, nestled at the base of the mountain, would be consumed by the greedy volcano. His castle, with its soaring turrets made of gleaming gold, would be under a lake of lava.

  Why? After scraping and fighting their way through this rugged terrain, why had the gods punished them further? Shouldn’t his people’s persistence and hard work be rewarded?

  The finality of the situation made him clench his fists in fury. So much still to do, to experience. Somewhere out there, in his dying kingdom, lived his fervor, his mate, the woman who would set his soul afire. If legend held true.

  The woman who would complete him as a man and bring him into full strength; make him burn with the need to have her. He had never found her. And now he never would.

  Just one more regret to add to all the rest.

  He’d never even looked. There had been plenty of time over the last one hundred years of his life to find her, but he’d put her last. There were so many others that came first: his kingdom, his people, his brothers… She hadn’t mattered then. He’d thought he had nothing but time. Now he had anything but.

  Two weeks, the priests had estimated—two short weeks until Mother Cay erupted.

  With a last perusal, he said goodbye to Fiera, aware it could be the last time he set eyes on his kingdom, firming his resolve to protect his people. His responsibility was to them; his people were the beating heart of his kingdom, and he would find them a new home. I swear it!

  His one chance to save them lay in the pages of his father’s journal. The weight of it pressed against his spine, nestled in the pack slung over his back. Finally reaching the summit, he strode toward the edge of the cliff, stopping but not bothering to look down. He knew the bottom was probably farther than his eye could see, and—Gods! I hate heights. But he would have to trust his father’s words—and the damn journal—that he wasn’t about to jump to his doom.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” The familiar baritone came from further down the small path that had led him to the peak of the mountain.

  Glancing back, he saw not one but three familiar shapes lumbering forward. All three had bare chests like Arun, with leather bands tied around their chests and forearms. Arun crossed his arms and waited.

  When the four stood toe to toe, his hothead brother, Fisk, second in line and overall pain in his ass, stuck out his chest, trying to gain the last inch that would bring them eye to eye.

  His brother’s straight blond hair fell forward over his brow, “I said—”

  “I heard you,” Arun said as he turned toward brother number three, Brant, and quirked a brow. Tall, with a lean strength, Brant was a scholar, not a fighter. The only question was, would the resident genius chime in on the discussion?

  “Were you really going to leave without telling us?” Brant asked as the three approached.

  Looked like Brant wanted in on the conversation too.

  Not answering just yet, Arun glanced at the youngest of the brood, Ives, but didn’t expect him to say a word.

  Ives rarely spoke, letting his actions speak for him. At the moment, he stood with shoulders bunched, cracking his knuckles menacingly. A few inches shorter but twice as wide, his youngest brother was built like a small armada. He was the only one of the three who held the coloring of a true Fiera, with midnight black hair and darker eyes. Arun knew that stance and didn’t like it.

  “Since when do I have to explain myself to anyone?” Arun didn’t have time for this. He only had minutes to act. The sun was about to set, and while it was a risk he was willing to take, there was no way the three sun-sores behind him were taking the trip with him.

  Calculating the exact moment the sun dipped behind the horizon was critical to his plans.

  “Well, big brother, we realize we are naught but your lowly subjects, but we figured we deserved a little notice when our king was about to jump off a cliff.” Fisk placed his hands on his hips, the usual smirk missing from his face.

  “I left you a copy of Father’s journal.” Arun eyed his youngest brother taking a small step forward, realizing Fisk was just a distraction. These three idiots are going to fight me. He would have laughed if he weren’t so pressed for time.

  Brant launched into a lengthy analysis, and Arun listened with one ear as his brother droned on about the copy of their father’s journal that Arun had left for them. Papers they were supposed to read after he’d already jumped. “…can’t believe it’s the portal, the damned Bicullis. The fucking gateway into other kingdoms! Dad found it, and he never told us. Gods, I hate to say it, but it’s Dad’s handwriting! It has the official seal. It has everything: detailed accounts of the exploration and maps—every kind of map you could imagine. It’s—”

  “Real?” Arun was pulled back into the discussion now that his brother had gotten to the important part.

  “You’re about to jump off a cliff and you aren’t even sure if the documents are real?” Fisk took a menacing step forward.

  Ignoring everyone except Brant, Arun waited, realizing the next words out of his brother’s mouth would fundamentally change his destiny. “Is it?”

  “It’s real,” Brant said on a sigh, looking both frustrated and excited.

  “Damn, what in the hells did you tell him that for?” Fisk asked.

  “What do you want me to do, lie?”

  “Yes, you should have lied. He could die out there. And if he does, so help me, it’s on your head,” Fisk yelled.

  Right before Brant could retaliate, a boom shook the earth, stopping them in their tracks. Mother Cay was awake, and by the sound of it, she was impatient. The four crouched low, wondering if this was the blast that would take off half the mountaintop.

  As the rumbling settled, Arun turned on the three of them, waiting until he had their attention, “I don’t have time for this. I need the three of you here. According to the priests we have two weeks. Your jobs are to organize the people. Tell them to prepare for evacuation. We have no choice. If I’m not back within a week, you gather every drop of water we have and start the trek through the Hamada. You hear me? There’s no more time for bickering.”

  “Arun, you are king.” Ives spoke for the first time, his dark figure silhouetted against the gray dust spewing in the air.

  Arun understood his point; Ives didn’t have to explain. As king, Arun was expected to delegate this kind of responsibility. The king should remain, to lead his people during crisis. But how could he ask any one of them to take this kind of risk. “I won’t ask it of you. I couldn’t. I trust you three, trust you with my life and the lives of our p
eople. I need you here.”

  “Arun, just give me some time to look over the journal. It’s too dangerous. I’ve had all but two minutes to look at the copies.” Brant leafed through the papers, even as he tried to make a case.

  “I have no choice.”

  “There’s always a choice. For the gods’ sake, you have no idea where the Bicullis leads! You might end up inside the volcano. Not to mention the fact you have to take a flying leap off a cliff to reach it.” Brant gripped the papers in his hand.

  “Father did it, several times.”

  “Yes, and about fifty years ago, father disappeared. You don’t think that had something to do with that damn portal?” Fisk spewed.

  A swirling buzz caught Arun’s attention. The setting sun was highlighted against the jagged mountainside. A light-blue thread the exact color of the sky appeared several lengths below him, undulating like a current in the clouds. It started to spiral, creating an eddy of flickering light that grew until it was the size of a small sun-hut.

  The blow took Arun by surprise, punching the air from his stomach, giving him a face full of sand as he went down. Flipping himself over, he looked into the eyes of his brother, the flash of concern the only thing that kept him from killing him.

  Arun slammed his foot into Fisk’s jaw and sent him flying. Fisk stayed on the ground and rubbed the side of his face, his chin length blond hair falling forward, obscuring his signature dimples. “Not the face, brother. You’ll make the ladies weep.”

  Shooting to his feet, Arun saw Brant bracing for a fight while Ives continued to stand with his arms crossed, a menacing scowl on his face. “Brant, think before you act. To have any chance at all, you’d all have to jump me at the same time. I will kick the holy nine hells out of you if you take one step closer.”