Torrent of Tears (Scourge Survivor Series Book 3)
J.L. Madore
Dedication:
To those who love the Haven gang, Fate’s Journey continues. Without you, there would be no adventure.
Acknowledgements:
To my Writers’ Community of Durham Region family: You are without question, the greatest and most talented community of writers ever assembled. You energize me. I’m honored every day to be your President, your peer and part of the group. Rock on WCDR!
To my editors, Ruth and Gwynn of Writescape: Lexi’s story took a bit more work to tighten. She’s a free-wheeling character and went off the rails a few times. A huge thank you for pulling things back into order.
To my writing circles/guides, Critical Realm, BookEnds and the gang at 20Books: your critiques are invaluable, your support immeasurable, and your friendships irreplaceable. Much love.
CHAPTER ONE
I flailed. Reaching behind my head, I clutched for the handle of what could only be the blade of a battle axe lodged between my shoulder blades. Early-morning sunlight pierced the blue sky above. Pain burned though me. It blinded. White spots and tears obscured my vision. Let death come. I was done anyway. They were dead because of me.
I couldn’t make out their faces in the fading reality of my vision, but the loss of lives hollowed my heart and left me feeling drained and desolate.
***
A ragged breath rushed from my lungs as my consciousness returned. Gods, what did I do wrong? No—what would I do wrong? My butt slid off the snow-covered log and I slumped to the side. Winter wind whistled over my body, across the forest clearing, and rattled the weathered boards of our childhood clubhouse. Unable to move until the effects of the vision wore off, I laid on the ice-crusted ground and blinked up at our motto carved and painted above.
Shitstorm Survivors: Come in peace or leave in pieces.
Almost two decades and it remained. Scrawled in the chipped, slime-green paint Bruin had ‘borrowed’ from the maintenance room of Haven castle.
The numbing dread of the vision drained away as my mind filled with memories of the four of us here, playing, training and holding strategy sessions on how to avenge our dead. Painful as it was, life was simple then. We were a team. A united force of four orphans against the evil of our realm.
The Scourge.
When the shakes passed, I hauled my ass back onto the log and dropped my head between my legs. The melted patch of snow where I’d fallen, exposed the unyielding, packed dirt and leaf detritus beneath. When had life come between the four of us? I wanted it back . . . that sense of belonging to people who gave a shit. That’s what had always made the killing and fighting and training worthwhile. My family.
The crunch of heavy footsteps from the forest path had me breathing deep. The breeze, crisp and fresh in my nostrils, held the bite of winter that wouldn’t relent. No stanky rot of Scourge. I let my gloved hand relax from the hilt of the new Guardian double-edge sheathed to my thigh and waited. Only a half-dozen people on this mountain knew the location of our childhood sanctuary. Sadly, I wasn’t inclined to see any of them at the moment.
“Princess?”
Reign’s gravel voice made my chest tighten. I leaned forward and picked up a chunk of snow and cupped it between my palms. It was spongy and packed into a tight ball under my fingers.
“Mind if I join you?”
I scootched to the side to make room. “That bad, is it?”
“What?” He lowered himself, knees cracking as the log groaned under his weight.
“I’m such a train-wreck that my father tromped through the forest during school hours to find me?”
“You missed your morning training session with the third years and then your one o’clock battlements class. You’re pale, Lexi. You have a vision?”
I nodded, tossed my snowball into the skeletal scrub and rubbed my gloves together.
Reign reached into his wool trench and handed me a chocolate. Each member of my family carried a stock of treats to ease the after-effects of my gift. He was quiet a long time, sitting with his elbows on his knees, turning the massive platinum ring on his thumb. In the chill of the afternoon, warmth oozed off him. It leeched into my hip and shoulder where his frame touched mine. “Wanna talk about the vision?”
The grieving ache of my dream lingered too fresh.
Close like this, him six-foot-six and two feet taller than me, I waited for the security to come like it always had. When I was a kid, he’d scoop me up like a doll and make everything right again. If I didn’t have that, what did I have?
Just the black void of nothingness that was my life before Maximus Reign.
“Can’t you fix this?” I pressed my fingers into a fist, the pop-pop-pop of each knuckle breaking the silence. “I thought he’d get over it by now. It’s been months. I’ve said it a thousand times. I didn’t mean to hurt her.”
Reign shook his head, his brindled hair rustling off his shoulders, longer than he usually let it grow. There was more salt than pepper in it these days, but he wore it well. “All intentions aside, you did hurt her. Bruin has every right to be pissed. If Jade wasn’t there that afternoon—”
“But she was,” I choked, surprised at the wave of bitterness washing over me. “She always is. Everyone plays their part. Jade’s the savior, Bruin’s the fighter, Julian’s the genius and I’m the spoiled screw up, right?”