Washed Away
Lacey Thorn
It's your world...unlaced
It's your world...unlaced
An Excerpt From: WASHED AWAY
Copyright © LACEY THORN, 2007
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.
Willow slipped through the trees, drawing closer and closer to the soothing waters
that burst over the island shore in waves. The drums of war seemed never-ending
lately, a constant echo in the air. Willow finally reached her watching place and
settled in to keep her own vigil against the invaders who overran their shores. It
wasn’t long ‘til she felt the presence of boats in the waters just offshore. Willow
smiled, anticipating the flow of water through her veins, a gift from the Goddess of
Altair. Eager for what she knew she could do, what she must do for her people.
She stepped from the trees, her long black hair falling to her waist in waves, the
sides gathered back in a yellow sash. Just yesterday it had been bound tightly in a
long thick braid that designated that she was as yet unclaimable. But today was the
day that marked her twenty-first summer and her hair would be left unbound now
with only the sides pulled back from her face with a yellow sash. The sash would
remain until she was claimed, at which time her hair would never be bound again.
Her green eyes flashed as she threw her hands over her head and called to the
waters in the tongue of her mother’s people—in the tongue of the Goddess of Altair.
“I call to the goddess, hear my plea. Let the waters flow through me. Fill me with
thy icy cold, embrace me with warmth untold. Of salt or fresh, from earth or air,
where water flows I am there. The goddess’s blessing on my call.” Willow threw
her hands from her body and the waves broke from shore, surging back out from
where they had come, carrying the boats of others far from shore. “A watery grave
for one and all.”
She turned to leave when her task was complete and was startled to see both
Drago and Ulrik Mederra standing behind her, watching.
“A Guardian as we suspected.” Drago nodded to his brother Ulrik.
“We have waited patiently for you, Willow,” Ulrik told her. “You can no longer hide
from us. We have already received permission to claim you and take you home
with us.”
“I cannot leave!” Willow shouted, angry to be trapped by these two large warriors.
Willow was tall at five feet eight but the Mederras were giants at six feet ten of
brawny muscle. They both had long, dark brown hair and soft green eyes the
identical shade of hers. “The waters call to me and I must stay and listen.”
“No,” Drago stated, shaking his head and stepping up to her. He quickly wrapped
her in his arms, turning her so that her back rested against his chest, her wrists
locked in his grasp, her arms forming an x across her chest beneath his. “Now is
the time to listen to your mates and go with us.”
“I have no mates,” Willow stated, hating that she could not use her powers against
them, had never been able to, as she did against the other warriors who bothered
her. But the Mederras had been waiting for this moment, for the yellow ribbon and
what it represented.
According to Warrior Law all women who had reached their twenty-first year were
claimable. Any warrior who wanted to would be given a chance to claim the woman
he wanted as long as his brother also wished to claim her. For warriors were
always born as twins with the occasional arrival of triplets. Because of the vast
number of warriors each group of warrior brothers, be they a duo or a trio, would
only be allowed to mate with one woman. Once a woman was chosen she would
be claimed by the placing of the mates’ clan upon her lower right abdomen just
above her skirt.
Ulrik kneeled at her feet and removed a cylindrical weapon from his belt. “You do
now,” he told her as he placed it onto the flesh of her lower right abdomen and
placed the symbol of the Mederra, a white tiger, on her. “Now you are Willow
Mederra.”
“Never,” she fired back at him. “So now I wear your mark. I am not a possession to
control. I am a Guardian.”
“You have left us no choice,” Drago told her, refusing to feel remorse for his and
Ulrik’s following her and claiming her in the darkness of night. They wanted to
claim her openly, had already spoken with her fathers and received their blessing
and consent but Willow hid from them every chance she got. They should have
headed home to their mother Erin and their fathers long ago but had stayed to wait
for Willow to reach the age of claiming instead. Their baby sister Erika was mated
to the Savaris now and had two children of her own that they had yet to even see.
That would all change now that they had finally claimed the woman that they had
both fallen so hard for. Since the first moment that they had seen her they had both
felt drawn to her and as they had watched her, spoken with her, they had both
learned that love was indeed possible.
Willow was everything that a warrior could crave in a mate. She was strong and
beautiful on the inside and the outside. They had sensed right away that there was
something different about her and had not been surprised when they had followed
her one night and seen her command the water with words and gestures. She
spoke the tongue of their mother and something about her called to their souls,
demanding that they claim her and take her to their home. She was their other half,
the one woman who could and would complete them.
Copyright © LACEY THORN, 2007
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.
Willow slipped through the trees, drawing closer and closer to the soothing waters
that burst over the island shore in waves. The drums of war seemed never-ending
lately, a constant echo in the air. Willow finally reached her watching place and
settled in to keep her own vigil against the invaders who overran their shores. It
wasn’t long ‘til she felt the presence of boats in the waters just offshore. Willow
smiled, anticipating the flow of water through her veins, a gift from the Goddess of
Altair. Eager for what she knew she could do, what she must do for her people.
She stepped from the trees, her long black hair falling to her waist in waves, the
sides gathered back in a yellow sash. Just yesterday it had been bound tightly in a
long thick braid that designated that she was as yet unclaimable. But today was the
day that marked her twenty-first summer and her hair would be left unbound now
with only the sides pulled back from her face with a yellow sash. The sash would
remain until she was claimed, at which time her hair would never be bound again.
Her green eyes flashed as she threw her hands over her head and called to the
waters in the tongue of her mother’s people—in the tongue of the Goddess of Altair.
“I call to the goddess, hear my plea. Let the waters flow through me. Fill me with
thy icy cold, embrace me with warmth untold. Of salt or fresh, from earth or air,
where water flows I am there. The goddess’s blessing on my call.” Willow threw
her hands from her body and the waves broke from shore, surging back out from
where they had come, carrying the boats of others far from shore. “A watery grave
for one and all.”
She turned to leave when her task was complete and was startled to see both
Drago and Ulrik Mederra standing behind her, watching.
“A Guardian as we suspected.” Drago nodded to his brother Ulrik.
“We have waited patiently for you, Willow,” Ulrik told her. “You can no longer hide
from us. We have already received permission to claim you and take you home
with us.”
“I cannot leave!” Willow shouted, angry to be trapped by these two large warriors.
Willow was tall at five feet eight but the Mederras were giants at six feet ten of
brawny muscle. They both had long, dark brown hair and soft green eyes the
identical shade of hers. “The waters call to me and I must stay and listen.”
“No,” Drago stated, shaking his head and stepping up to her. He quickly wrapped
her in his arms, turning her so that her back rested against his chest, her wrists
locked in his grasp, her arms forming an x across her chest beneath his. “Now is
the time to listen to your mates and go with us.”
“I have no mates,” Willow stated, hating that she could not use her powers against
them, had never been able to, as she did against the other warriors who bothered
her. But the Mederras had been waiting for this moment, for the yellow ribbon and
what it represented.
According to Warrior Law all women who had reached their twenty-first year were
claimable. Any warrior who wanted to would be given a chance to claim the woman
he wanted as long as his brother also wished to claim her. For warriors were
always born as twins with the occasional arrival of triplets. Because of the vast
number of warriors each group of warrior brothers, be they a duo or a trio, would
only be allowed to mate with one woman. Once a woman was chosen she would
be claimed by the placing of the mates’ clan upon her lower right abdomen just
above her skirt.
Ulrik kneeled at her feet and removed a cylindrical weapon from his belt. “You do
now,” he told her as he placed it onto the flesh of her lower right abdomen and
placed the symbol of the Mederra, a white tiger, on her. “Now you are Willow
Mederra.”
“Never,” she fired back at him. “So now I wear your mark. I am not a possession to
control. I am a Guardian.”
“You have left us no choice,” Drago told her, refusing to feel remorse for his and
Ulrik’s following her and claiming her in the darkness of night. They wanted to
claim her openly, had already spoken with her fathers and received their blessing
and consent but Willow hid from them every chance she got. They should have
headed home to their mother Erin and their fathers long ago but had stayed to wait
for Willow to reach the age of claiming instead. Their baby sister Erika was mated
to the Savaris now and had two children of her own that they had yet to even see.
That would all change now that they had finally claimed the woman that they had
both fallen so hard for. Since the first moment that they had seen her they had both
felt drawn to her and as they had watched her, spoken with her, they had both
learned that love was indeed possible.
Willow was everything that a warrior could crave in a mate. She was strong and
beautiful on the inside and the outside. They had sensed right away that there was
something different about her and had not been surprised when they had followed
her one night and seen her command the water with words and gestures. She
spoke the tongue of their mother and something about her called to their souls,
demanding that they claim her and take her to their home. She was their other half,
the one woman who could and would complete them.