The Reclamation
Ivy Asher
Copyright © 2020 Ivy Asher
All rights reserved. This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission of the author, except in cases of a reviewer quoting brief passages in a review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Edited by Polished Perfection
Cover by Rainy Day Artwork
For Sunny. You stepped up so I could live the dream, and I fucking love you so much for it. You still can’t have a motorcycle though.
Contents
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
I know!!! I know!!!!!
Also by Ivy Asher
Ivy Asher
Prologue
Warm metal touches my neck. I don’t even have time to process that it’s a blade before Loa slices across my throat with it.
Pain explodes across my neck, and then I can feel warmth gushing out of me. I try to gasp, but the sound is a sick gurgling that hammers home the reality of what just happened. I press my palms to my slit throat, terrified by how quickly they’re covered in blood. I press at the wound and watch as Treno falls to his knees, his large hands clutching his own neck.
The realization that he’s experiencing some fucked up echo of what I am flashes through my mind as I press at my wound and wonder how the fuck I’m going to survive this. I blink slowly, and it’s as if the world around me has exploded. It’s hard to focus, because my mind seems to only want to be aware of the fact that I’m bleeding to death. I feel like I’m moving underwater as I try to comprehend what’s happening.
Panes and shards of shattered crystal come raining down from above me, and I fall to my knees, unsure if they are too weak to hold me up anymore or if the strong burst of wind in the room shoved me down. I feel pieces of things fall on me, but all I can really focus on is trying to press the escaping blood from my throat back into my body. I fumble for the skirt of my dress and shakily bring a wad of the fabric up to my throat and press it there.
I’m having trouble breathing, but I can tell some oxygen is getting into my lungs and brain because neither is screaming for air, or maybe my brain is no longer working right because of the blood.
A roar fills the air, but I can’t focus on the rage and retribution billowing out and surrounding me. All I can focus on is clumsily pulling more of my dress up and pressing it as hard as I can against my neck. I taste blood in my mouth, and for some reason, it sparks a flash of panic. I try to rein it in, knowing instinctively that keeping my heart rate down is better right now, but it takes root despite my efforts to crush it down.
I don’t want to die.
Black talons and skin drop down in my line of sight. They step closer to me, and I can just make out a black paw impossibly far behind the ebony forelegs of what has to be a gargantuan gryphon. I blink lazily, and my vision blurs. Something sniffs at me and nudges me gently, and I can feel strength draining out of my hands. A keening purr kind of a sound reaches out to me, and I want to go to it. More roars and crashes suddenly fill my ears as if someone just unmuted a battle scene in a movie.
I go weightless.
I know I’m dying. I can feel myself rising in the air, like my soul is finally leaving my body. I’m surrounded by warmth and surprisingly...pissed. I’ve never thought about what it would be like to die, but there’s no loved one to greet me. No calm or peace for my soul to float on as I make my way wherever souls go. There’s not even a light. There’s just pain and guilt and sorrow. All I can think, over and over again, is that I’m sorry any of this happened.
I know my death will pull the others with me, and it feels horrible.
I’m jostled, and my hazy vision blinks out altogether. I grumble internally about how the road to the afterlife shouldn’t have potholes. This shit should be gentle and easy; why does it hurt? Something wraps around me, and then the sensation of flying fills the last of my working senses. Peace finally trickles through me, but so does panic because this must be it.
I don’t want to die!
Everything around me grows quiet, and in spite of the cool wind I feel caressing my body, I’m warm all over. A flash of Ryn, then Treno, and finally Zeph streaks by the last of my consciousness before I can feel it finally start to shut down. I whimper, and death squeezes me tighter.
“Don’t worry, little sparrow, I have you,” it growls deeply into my ear, and then everything...goes...black.
1
I’m floating, but not in a soothing, calm kind of way. I feel like I’m floating in a vat of pain. It burns, and the sensation is draining. I would feel like a popsicle being dipped into hellfire, except the burning is cold. Instead of a searing sensation, I feel like a million needles are all trying to stab me at once. I get the distinct impression that something’s trying to settle in the cells of my skin, but for some
