Hi everyone!
I have a sneak peek for you today! The book releases on December 28th, so be sure to mark your calendars!
I also have a few Christmas gifts for you! Knight from the Ashes and A Bear’s Bride (along with the entire Entwined Tales series!) are FREE through Christmas! Be sure to grab them for your Amazon library before they return to their regular prices.
I hope you enjoy the preview! Merry Christmas, everyone!
Best wishes,
Shari :)
Chapter One
The Greybrow Brothers
Soleil
I know we’re in trouble the moment I see the two men striding into the square. They push through the crowd, shouldering their way to the front. As people part for them, the sun breaks free from the gloom of the thick clouds, shining upon the pair as if they ordered it for their entrance.
They’re brothers, twins in fact, but they’re not identical. I haven’t seen them in four years, but I remember their names like they’re etched into my memory.
Lukas and Davyn Greybrow.
Horror crosses their faces when they spot me, but not recognition. Anger, too, but not awareness.
I squirm against my bindings as the wooden beam of the sacrificial pyre digs into my back, cursing Garret for tying the ropes so tightly. I never dreamed I’d be trussed up like a roasting chicken the first time I met the brothers again.
“What’s wrong with you people?” Lukas yells, turning to the crowd once he’s reached the base of the rickety platform stairs. In the last few years, his sandy hair has darkened a touch, but I’d know him anywhere. “Don’t you know this barbaric act is forbidden in Kalae?”
Lukas has always been the gregarious one. Happy to let his brother negotiate, Davyn jogs up the steps to rescue me. Behind him, the crowd mutters and mumbles, but no one explains.
“Are you all right?” Davyn asks me, a lock of his dark hair falling across his forehead. He produces a dagger and saws at my rope bindings—not once looking at my face.
I stare at him, trying to make sense of the ridiculous situation. Undaunted by my silence, he works quickly. One by one, the fibers give. The strands unravel as they part, flying back and then lying limply as if embarrassed they were defeated.
“If you have a dragon problem, we’ll take care of it,” Lukas says, still addressing the crowd. He’s climbed the steps and now looks down on his befuddled audience like a king.
After a long moment, the shrewd village reeve steps forward, scanning the men, probably noticing their lack of weapons, just as I have. Besides a dagger each, they carry nothing.
But I’m aware they don’t need anything more.
“How much?” the reeve finally asks.
Lukas turns back to address his brother, dropping his voice. “What do you think?”
“The girl,” Davyn says without hesitation.
“Just the girl?”
Davyn casts his brother a look. “Lukas.”
“Yes, yes. All right.” Lukas returns his attention to the captivated spectators. “We’ll do it for free, but you must release the young woman.”
I growl, knowing we can’t compete with free.
Davyn jerks his head up, startled by my reaction, and his eyes freeze on my face. After a few long seconds, he remembers to blink. “Sunny?”
“Don’t call me that,” I snarl, worried someone will overhear him. “It’s Soleil.”
My name means sun. It’s a nod to my mother’s Elrijan heritage, but no one calls me Sunny these days—no one who doesn’t have a death wish.
Davyn stares at me, so surprised he’s gone still. The years have been kind to him. Time has chiseled away the boyish softness I remember, leaving a startlingly handsome face with the barest hint of a shadow along his jaw. Dark lashes and brows complement his slate-blue eyes. His hair is a walnut shade, deeper than his brother’s. It’s also longer than he used to wear it. The roguish waves now tumble to his shoulders, gloriously thick.
It suits him.
Though he wears a leather cloak to ward off the chill of the early spring weather, I have no doubt the clothing it covers is well-tailored and expensive.
I nod down to the ropes. “You’ve already made a mess of the situation. You might as well finish.”
The scout rips his eyes from my face, hesitating for several seconds before he continues cutting away my scratchy bindings. The rope falls free while the reeve explains the situation to Lukas, pooling around my ankles in a pathetic heap of ruined plans.
When he’s finished, Davyn crosses his arms. Though he still faces me, he looks at the wooden decking as he listens to the village head. His expression flickers when the reeve says, “dragon slayers.”
He meets my eyes again, his eyebrows lowering. “You’re a dragon slayer?”
He couldn’t sound more incredulous if he tried.
“You’ve interrupted a job,” I answer testily, rubbing my shoulder. Why is he still standing so close? “And we can’t compete with your price.”
“We?”
“Garret’s here.”
Davyn turns to scan the crowd.
“Not out there.” I gesture to a nearby building. “Up there.”
My brother stands on the roof deck of the local sundry and general goods shoppe, holding a massive crossbow in his hands and scowling at the Greybrows.
“You’re bait,” Davyn deadpans, looking back at me.
“I was until you interfered.”
“What if your brother had missed?” Davyn asks. “Depending on the dragon, you could have been set ablaze, frozen—possibly even eaten.”
“Garret never misses, and I’m not helpless.”
Davyn is the quiet one—the reasonable one. He doesn’t argue, and he doesn’t like confrontation. But the look he’s giving me makes me wonder if he hasn’t changed in the last four years.
At one time, I’d say I knew him well. Our parents have history—the kind that means we were stuck together for yearly holidays until we were old enough to set out on our own.
Sometimes we visited a hunting lodge in the picturesque mountains of Reginae. Occasionally, we went to the king’s city of Teirn and stayed in a grand townhouse. Every once in a while, when the Greybrows were feeling particularly high and mighty, we sailed aboard their ship to their private island.
No matter the location, our parents always reminisced long into the night while we children were forced to pretend we had something in common.
And we didn’t.
Garret liked to hunt; the twins did not. I liked to explore; their cousin Cassandra Marie preferred tea parties. We never agreed on games, and the boys have a strange twin gift that drove me mad. They were always talking to squirrels, snakes, and rabbits. Deer would follow them in the woods.
They even had a bizarre menagerie in a barn outside their manor filled with animals that followed them home and refused to leave.
None of that mattered as much as the fact that the boys and their cousin are members of the nobility. Their paternal grandfather is an earl, and their father is a respected captain. Cassandra Marie’s father became the duke of Reginae when we were children.
My grandfather was a duke as well, but only of a territory, and Father ran away from home to come to the mainland and become an alchemist. My granduncle is the prince consort of Elrija, but we’re estranged from that side of the family, too. Mother has never told me why.
I always felt inadequate next to the boys and Cassandra Marie, like I didn’t quite measure up. It wasn’t about money—my father teaches at the Mages’ Guild College of Eromoore. We lived comfortably, even if I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth.
It was about station. Significance. Importance.
And now we meet again, and I’m tied to a post in the middle of a village square.
I had hoped this would play out differently.
Before Davyn can further lecture me on the dangers of dragons, a screech rings through the air. It’s not a warning grumble or a thundering roar. This sound is more of a chirp—a greeting. A strangely happy hello.
Our quarry has spotted the Greybrow brothers.
Horrified villagers point to the sky, watching the scarlet beast as she circles.
“What’s it going to be?” Garret hollers to the reeve, not about to do the village a service if they’ve decided they won’t pay us.
The pale man glances at the brothers. Encouraged by their nonchalant manner, he declares, “The deal is off!”
His voice shakes, betraying his uncertainty.
“It’s your funeral.” My brother shrugs, lowering the crossbow I know he was so eager to use. It’s the biggest he could get his hands on, with specially crafted bolts large enough to…well. Kill a dragon.
Screams rise from the crowd as the beast alights on the church’s bell tower. Several wooden shingles break under her great weight and the grip of her talons, and the dislodged pieces skid down the roof and clatter to the ground.
“Dragon!” a little boy cries with glee as he points, too young to understand the threat.
But this beast is not a typical dragon. She’s a wyvern, with wings taking the place of front legs, much like a large, reptilian bird of prey. The creatures are graceful in the air, wickedly territorial, and uninterested in treasure unless it’s in their domain. She’s not here to loot the town, and it’s unlikely she nested nearby. They’re antisocial animals, liking only the company of their own clan.
She also happens to be an elemental wyvern, and from the ruby hue of her scales, it’s clear she wields fire.
If she were keen to burn down the village, she would have accomplished it long before we all showed up. The reeve says they’ve been having trouble with her for months.
What’s she doing here? It makes no more sense than an eagle wreaking havoc upon a village.
As I ponder it, she stares intently at Davyn, her tail swinging in a steady rhythm like a pendulum. Her metallic scales catch the sunlight, nearly blinding against the dark sky.
Lukas looks back at his brother. “Eggs?”
“That’s what I’m getting,” Davyn responds.
Lukas nods and turns to the reeve. “Someone raided her nest. She’s tracked them here.”
The townspeople shift and whisper, but no one dares to step forward and admit their guilt.
“All right,” Davyn says to the dragon, giving her a reassuring smile. “I’ll see if I can find him.”
I cross my arms, no less disconcerted than when they played this game with deer and chipmunks.
To Lukas, Davyn says, “We’re looking for a short man. The thief was slight and dressed in dark leather. He wore a bandana over his head and kept his lower face covered.”
The brothers are both gifted with the twin gift, but Davyn is a bit more attuned to the creatures.
“Eye color?” Lukas asks.
“She didn’t get a good look. I think she was just flying back to her nest.”
“Is her nest on a ledge or on the ground?”
“She’s a fire—what do you think?”
“No reason to get testy.” Lukas rolls his eyes. “So, we’re looking for a spry man capable of climbing a sheer cliff.”
Davyn nods.
“Hatchlings are more useful than eggs,” Lukas points out.
His brother grimaces. “That’s morbid.”
What’s morbid? I wonder, trying to keep up with their conversation. This was another thing I hated about these two. They communicate on a different level than the rest of us, leaving their unfortunate companions in the dark.
“Why else would they steal fire wyvern eggs?” Lukas demands.
Davyn lifts his hands, placating his brother. “I’m not saying you’re wrong.”
Satisfied, Lukas turns back to the befuddled crowd. “Do you have a local alchemist?”
The reeve shakes his head. “The closest lives in Yowler Field.”
Lukas nods as if suddenly certain of something. “What about someone suffering from acute arthritis? Extremely painful. The individual is likely bedridden.”
Slowly, the villagers’ eyes all turn on one man—the reeve.
He glances at the wyvern, and his hands begin to shake. He clasps them at his waist, but it doesn’t disguise his anxiety. “W…why would you ask me that?”
“Fire wyvern eggs are terribly difficult to obtain, and they don’t have any unique uses. The shells can be ground into a powder and used as a fire element in alchemy concoctions, but so can several dozen other ingredients. But if you keep the eggs warm and cozy, you’ll end up with hatchlings, won’t you? And any skilled alchemist knows that elemental young have a high concentration of magic in their blood.” Lukas pauses, a shadow passing over his face. “If you drain a hatchling of its blood and put it into a vial, the warming magic will be potent for years before it fades. A once-bedridden person could string the vial on a leather cord and go about life, letting its magic soothe their aches and pains.”
Lukas pauses, letting the crowd contemplate his words.
“Of course,” he continues, “the mother wyvern will burn your village to the ground in retribution. The only reason Hill Haven is still standing is because she senses the live eggs here.”
The anxious villagers mutter amongst themselves, casting speculating glances at their leader. After only a minute, the reeve hangs his head in defeat. “They were for my wife.”
* * *
An hour later, the wyvern flies away, carrying a basket in her talons. It contains three marbled eggs, which Davyn carefully bundled for the journey.
“You’re fortunate they hadn’t hatched yet,” Davyn says to the reeve as we stand outside his house.
The crowds have parted now that the excitement is over, leaving just the five of us—the village reeve, the brothers, Garret, and me.
“I should have let the slayers kill her,” the man responds darkly, not impressed by the Greybrows’ methods.
Garret grunts, agreeing with him.
“What will my wife do now?” he demands. “The alchemist in Baywhite said hatchling blood is the only thing that can help her. It took three months for a scout to find these, and I emptied our savings to obtain them.”
Lukas and Davyn exchange a look, and then Davyn nods.
“Our family owns Thane and Greybrow Scouting,” Lukas says. “We work closely with several alchemists and ingredient suppliers across Kalae, even some in Elrija and greater Halistar. We’ll find something that works as well or better than hatchling blood.”
“I can’t pay you,” the man says miserably.
Davyn glances at me, smiling. “Thanks to you, we’ve been reunited with friends we haven’t seen for several years. That’s payment enough.”
I shake my head, looking away. What would it be like to be so wealthy you could toss favors around haphazardly? First, they rid the town of the wyvern for free, and now they’re giving away valuable medicine? It’s a miracle Thane and Greybrow Scouting is still in business.
The reeve looks skeptical, but he nods. “I’ll hold you to it.”
“I’ll draw up a contract if you’d like,” Lukas says, confident—or perhaps just cocky.
Either way, ten minutes later, the contract is signed, and Garret and I stand alone with the brothers near the tavern entrance. We’re all unsure what to say to each other.
“How long has it been?” Lukas asks Garret, shaking his hand.
“Four years,” I respond immediately, not even needing a few seconds to think about it.
Davyn’s eyes move to me.
Immediately, I look away. “Or something like that.”
“You’re angry with us, aren’t you?” Lukas asks me with a lopsided grin. “We tried to save you, but we ended up stealing your job.”
“It’s not good business, you know.”
“But we saved the hatchlings,” he points out.
“Am I supposed to care?”
He laughs. “Oh, Sunny, you haven’t changed a bit.”
“She doesn’t like that name anymore,” Davyn says quietly. “Call her Soleil.”
“I never liked the name.”
“But it fits you so well,” Lukas teases, his eyes passing over me before he flashes me a practiced smile that would make a lesser girl melt. “You’re always such a ray of sunshine.”
I narrow my eyes. “Are you flirting with me?”
The twins are older than I am by about two years. They’re twenty-four, a year older than Garret. Neither of them ever looked at me like I was a girl—and certainly not a woman.
Garret barks out a laugh and turns toward the tavern. “Come on, Davyn. Let’s give them privacy so Soleil can humiliate Lukas without an audience.”
Davyn meets my eyes briefly before he follows Garret inside. I watch him go, feeling a touch wistful.
Once we’re alone, Lukas chuckles. “Are you still in love with my brother?”
I whip my attention back to him. “Where did you get an idea like that?”
Lukas grins, delighted. His features are lighter than Davyn’s. His eyes are bright, warm blue instead of slate, and his hair is golden in the sunlight. He’s shorter than his brother by a few inches, standing at about six-foot. His shoulders are a little narrower than Davyn’s, too, and his features are softer.
He’s not cherubic, and no one would describe him as beautiful. But his crooked smile gives him a roguish air, and that’s where his allure lies. He’s very handsome.
As I study Lukas, he studies me right back. My stomach squirms as I wonder what he sees, feeling vulnerable. I know I’ve changed in the last four years as well. I was gangly as a child—my arms and legs were too long for my body. My teeth were too big for my face, and my hair was a mess.
After a few seconds, Lukas mutters a soft exclamation, startling me. His smile deepens, and the barest hint of a dimple creases his cheek. “You’re stunning, Sunny. Has it really only been four years?”
I press my lips together, pleased by the evaluation but hating myself for it. What do I care what this rich scout thinks?
“Why’d you stop joining your parents for our holidays?” he asks, undaunted by my silence. “Davyn missed you.”
“Sure he did.”
His grin widens. “I missed you too. If I’d known you’d become such a temptress, I’d have missed you more.”
I roll my eyes, knowing he’s teasing. But secretly, I bask in his praise, letting it soothe the insecurity that returned when I saw these two walk into the square.
Lukas steps closer and twirls a wayward strand of my hair in his fingers, playfully tugging at the curl. It’s dark blonde, like my mother’s.
I have her green eyes as well, and I’m tall like she is. But unlike Garret, who was fortunate enough to inherit her warm beige skin and almond-shaped eyes, I’m fair like my Kalaen father. I burn easily, and my nose and upper cheeks are dusted with freckles. No one would guess my Elrijan heritage. Half the time, people don’t even realize Garret and I are related, much less full siblings.
And though I’m confident enough to acknowledge I’m pretty, no one has ever called me a temptress.
Lukas waggles his eyebrows. “Let’s ditch our brothers and find somewhere private to catch up.”
“Are you propositioning me?” I ask wryly.
He looks startled, his eyes widening as he holds up his hands. “I wasn’t.” His grin returns, twitching his lips before it breaks free in all its unbridled glory. “Unless you want me to?”
“You’re a pig.”
“I’m charming.”
“For a pig.”
Lukas laughs. “Don’t disappear again—promise?”
Changing the subject, I ask, “So you’re working for your parents? You’re scouts?”
His eyes light with mischief. “Thane and Greybrow Scouting has plenty of scouts these days. We’ve started an offshoot of the main business.”
“Doing what?”
“You must swear you won’t laugh.”
“I won’t make that promise.”
He leans in to whisper near my ear, his cheek hovering close to mine. “We’re treasure hunters.”
“You can’t be serious,” I snort.
Lukas chuckles, nodding as he steps back to a respectable distance. “Father bought himself a shiny new schooner and gave Davyn the Greybrow Serpent. We’ve been scavenging off the coast of Marlane.”
“Pirate,” I tease.
“We haven’t stolen a thing, I swear.”
I shake my head.
“We’re good at it. We can find anything—anything.” His grin becomes a smirk. “Even your icy heart. Where do you think you lost it? And if I find it, can I keep it?”
I’ve known him long enough to realize he’s only playing. And besides that, Lukas isn’t the brother I want. Resigned, I glance toward the tavern door.
“I almost had you, didn’t I?” he says, though he knows he didn’t.
“Almost,” I lie.
“All right.” He drags me up the stairs with an exaggerated sigh. “Let’s join our brothers so you can make eyes at Davyn and snarl every time he tries to talk to you.”
“You make me sound like a wounded animal.”
“Lucky for you, my brother has a softness for broken things. Go be vulnerable and watch him turn to clay in your hands.”
I stop in the doorway, laughing despite myself. “Were you always this ridiculous?”
“Oh, Sunshine. I’ve grown up, too.” He loops his arm through mine. “I’m a lot more fun these days.”
Davyn looks over when we walk to his and Garret’s table, his eyes going between his brother and me. I jerk out of Lukas’s grip, but it’s too late. Davyn’s already turned back to Garret.
“I ordered you tea,” my brother says to me. “Are you hungry?”
Before I can respond, a man arrives at the table. He’s dressed like a courier, wearing a leather satchel across his chest and Duke Thane of Reginae’s coat of arms upon his tabard.
He extends a letter. “Lukas and Davyn Greybrow?”
“That’s right.” Lukas accepts the message.
“From Uncle Sebastian?” Davyn asks.
“Mmm,” Lukas confirms as he peruses the contents. “He’s summoning us.”
“Summoning?” Davyn chuckles. “Officially?”
“I’m not sure if it’s an official summons from our duke or a harried request from our uncle. Whatever it is, he says it’s urgent.” Lukas folds the note.
Davyn gestures to his drink and asks the courier, “Can I finish this?”
The man merely stares at him.
“Understood.” Davyn stands, extending his hand to my brother. “I’m sorry our reunion was brief.”
“Duty calls,” Garret says, looking like he doesn’t care whether they go or stay.
He’s like that.
Davyn turns to me, dipping his head in a goodbye. “Soleil, it was a pleasure to rescue you, even if you didn’t require rescuing.”
I twist my hands in my lap, nodding.
Lukas says his goodbyes as well, and then he points at me. “You’re not skipping the next holiday trip. I meant what I said—I can find anything, and I’ll find you.”
I smile even though he’s ridiculous.
Oddly disappointed when the brothers disappear out the door, I steal a sip of Garret’s ale…and nearly spit it out.
“You still drink like a girl,” he scoffs.
“I am a girl.”
Garret grunts, almost as if he’s not convinced.
“Where to now?” I ask.
“No idea. You’re the brains of this operation.”
It’s not as easy to find dragons attacking villages as you might think. Often, we end up clearing giant rats out of cellars or carnivorous bats from attics.
We’ll have to do twenty of those jobs to make up for what we lost today. Out of all the villages in Kalae, why did Davyn and Lukas end up in this one? Of all the miserable luck.
Garret finishes his drink, and then we leave Hill Haven on horseback, heading for the small, nearby city of Yowler Field.
We arrive well after midnight, when even the taverns are shutting their doors. Thankfully, the inn near the eastern gates still has a lantern burning outside.
The attendant dozes in a chair by the fire. If I weren’t dead on my feet and heavy with disappointment, I might think twice about rousing him, but I’m not feeling terribly empathetic right now.
Garret pauses in the doorway, assessing the situation. He raises his eyebrows, and I nod. He shuts the door a smidgen harder than necessary, alerting the man to our presence.
The attendant lets out a startled pig’s snort of a snore and bolts upright, blinking several times. His voice thick and groggy, he says, “I think I fell asleep.”
“You did, yes,” I confirm. “We need two rooms.”
He pushes himself to his feet and then shuffles to the counter, studying the open ledger. “Three and seven.” He then retrieves the keys from the board behind him.
Garret pays the man, and I take my key, muttering a good night before I disappear inside the room.
With the day’s events running through my head, it’s nearly impossible to fall asleep. But I must drift eventually because I wake to an overachieving bird chirping outside my window and sunlight streaming through cracks in the shutters.
I’m yawning when I step out of the room, but I stop short.
A man stands directly in front of me in the narrow hallway—a man wearing the Duke of Reginae’s coat of arms upon his tabard.
A courier.
He offers me a letter. “Are you Miss Soleil Eldemyer?”
My eyes latch on the insignia stamped into the red wax seal. I stare at the letter for a full five seconds before I snatch it from his hand. “Yes…”
I break the seal and read the contents. Then I read it again.
“What is it?” Garret asks, stretching his arms above his head as he joins me in the hall.
“Sebastian summoned us as well,” I say dumbly. “He would like us to leave for Teirn as soon as we receive this.”
Garret snatches the letter from me. “Why?”
I look at my brother, excitement unfurling in my belly. “His Grace says he’s in need of dragon slayers.”
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Shari L. Tapscott 