Upcoming New Release—Warrior's Captive; Chapter 1




Announcing Warrior's Captive, the (new) book 4 of Warrior's of Yedahn! Warrior's Reign will now be book 5 and will publish a few weeks after Captive. Here is chapter one.



Tai'ri rubbed the phantom ache in his wrist. There was no scarring, the embedded manacles from his months’ long imprisonment were healed.


Physically healed.


“When a great evil has been done to you, you can still choose to move forward,” Bdakhun Ibukay said.


Her narrow face and intent eyes reflected in the panoramic windows that gave the medical suite a one hundred and eighty degree view of the city at night. Fliers whizzed by; singles, doubles, and late night ground transports. Pedestrians traversed air walks between buildings, the city transparent below their feet nearly four hundred meters down.


Tai'ri turned. “I want jokdaht.” He met her gaze head on, aware a layer of his customary deference was forever burned away.


Jokdaht would not be the wisest course,” a deep, cultured voice said, entering the suite through doors that shimmered open silently.


Vykhan, the Bdakhun’s Head of Security, glided forward, a gray cloak moving around his body as if currents of air flowed underneath. Long black hair streaked with feathery silver was confined in a tight braid. He watched Tai'ri with calm, expressionless eyes. Not unfeeling, simply Silent.


Tai'ri had never met a warrior more in a master of his emotions than Vykhan—one day he hoped to be worthy of Adekhyun Numair’s presence, but this was not that day. Not until he achieved the same control, but for now shoving his feelings and impulses inside a sealed silver box in his mind would have to suffice.


Feelings and impulses urging him to seek vengeance. No—justice.


“Do you deny I have the right to hunt, to take vengeance?” Tai'ri stuffed down his flash of anger, an unfamiliar emotion he almost didn’t know how to handle. Even before Vykhan, his mother had taught him to allow his fiery bursts to flow through him. Over the years he had mastered the flow to the point where those who did not know him—and even those who did—would insist if asked that he was a quiet, diffident mannered male.


Continue . . .





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