Windburn (The Elemental Series #4)
Shannon Mayer
"I love Shannon's Rylee Adamson series . . . and I was wonderfully surprised that I loved her Elemental Series even more!"
-Denise Grover Swank USAT & NYT Bestselling Author of the "Chosen Series"
"I could not put it down and greedily consumed it in one sitting!"
-Books In Veins
"I think Larkspur aka Lark is the new heroine to watch out for . . ."
-Coffee Book Mom Reviews
“What a fantastic start to a new fantasy series! I love a strong female lead and we were delivered that in spades with Larkspur . . . This story is fast paced and exciting right from the start. I can't wait to see what comes next!”
-Boundless Book Reviews
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
There are always far more people than only a writer behind the making of a book. I am so grateful for the help of my amazing editors, beta readers, proofreaders and formatters. Not in order but: Tina Winograd, Shannon Page, Lysa Lessieur, Jean Faganello (aka Mom) and my ARC Team (too many to list!).
My two amazing boys who tolerate my wacky brain and sometimes absentminded presence as a new story runs throughly mind. They are my heart and the reason I smile every day.
I would be remiss if I did not thank my readers. You trust me with characters you have grown to love, and I hope you continue to enjoy the rides and journeys I take you on.
CHAPTER 1
efiance is not a word Elementals use lightly; not when it can see us banished from the very places where we draw our strength and feed our soul. Yet the word was one I was beginning to know all too well, in theory as well as in practice.
I stared across the table at my younger brother, Raven. He stared right back, concern knitting his thick dark brows.
“Lark, please say you will change your mind and stay here. Stay out of the human world. The more you stray from the tenets of our father and the mother goddess—”
I waved a hand, cutting him off as I leaned forward with a grimace. My body was still sore from the battles within the Pit, and my muscles protested even that slight movement. “You would rather we leave the king to fend for himself when we all know he isn’t in his right mind? He must name an heir . . . something he has yet to do.”
That was one reason I needed to go after Father. While little love was lost between him and me, our people needed an heir. How each elemental family replaced their ruler was different, and this was ours. It had to be someone the previous ruler chose with the guidance of the mother goddess.
As far as we knew, Father hadn’t chosen anyone. Which meant if he died, there could easily be civil war. Already lines were drawn within the Rim as to which sibling our people would back if it came to war.
Worse, Cassava could return and technically, as the first wife of the king, could take over. As strong as she was, that scenario was a distinct possibility. On my lap, Peta stirred and looked up at me, her green eyes clear as emeralds.
“You must tell me about her sometime, Lark. I sense great pain in you when you think of her name.” Her words were soft enough I didn’t think Raven heard. Most likely he didn’t realize Peta was my familiar. No one in the Rim had ever been handed a feline as a companion. Ever.
Most of my elemental family thought she was a cat I’d picked up. A stray. And for the most part, I hoped to keep it that way.
Peta made an excellent spy when people didn’t know she could comprehend.
My brother tipped his head back, and his throat bobbed as he seemed to struggle for words. I, on the other hand, did not suffer that particular ailment.
“Raven, I appreciate your concern, I do. But there really is no other choice. We all know it, but—”
Lifting his left hand, he waved it once between us, and for a moment, I caught a glimmer of green as lines of power trickled up his arms. I could see when another elemental was about to use their power, and the intent behind the usage. A gift—as far as I knew—only I had. Rather handy in a fight. Which, the way my last few months had been going, was almost a daily issue.
On the loaded table in front of us, a vine shot up through the cracks. A creeping larkspur vine flowered violet blue blossoms as he reached out and touched it.
“You are stronger than we all knew, Lark. And deadly, I am beginning to think, not unlike your namesake. Do you know our siblings talk about you when they gather?”
Snagging an overripe peach from the table, I took a bite out of the flesh. The juices—sweet with the last rays of the summer sun—dripped down my chin and onto Peta’s head. She flicked her ears and glared at me before jumping from my lap to my shoulder where she groomed herself.