Secret Heir (Dynasty #1)(9)

“Well I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible, Jazmine—you remember the way you came? That is also the only way back and this …” he says, holding up what looks like a key made of burnished gold, “is the only way a portal can be summoned.

“There are only seven keys—one for each Dynasty and the Dynasty heads are the only keepers.”

I notice the symbol of a crescent moon engraved into the bow and I wonder what it means.

For a moment, I consider snatching the key and making a run for it. But after witnessing the shadows that Magnus seems to have on tap, I’m not that foolish. In any case, even if I am successful in my snatch and grab, I still have no idea how to use the damn key. A feeling of helplessness washes over me as I look out at the sweeping expanse of sea and sky.

I feel the irony of it all. Only a few hours ago, I’d been standing on the beach in Rockford Cape, thinking that today my life was about to change—and it has.

Ten years ago, on this day, my life was turned upside down when my mom was ripped from my world, and on the same day, ten years later, my life is being turned upside down again.

But this time, as much as I want to deny it, it feels like something is being given to me, given back to me, and I can only hope, but it feels like life is done taking things from me and maybe, just maybe, I can let myself live again.





4





My first thought as I walk along the rocky shoreline is that everything is so much more beautiful here. The colors so vivid, they’re almost alive or maybe it’s just because I feel more alive in this place. It feels like whatever it was that had been lying dormant inside me, is now stirring and all the senses that I’ve long since learned to dull, are now coming alive.

I haven’t entirely accepted the overwhelming truths that have just been revealed to me. I keep expecting to wake up back in my bed in that shit hole of a trailer, to find that all of this was nothing but a dream.

But it never happens and something inside me is resigned to my fate. At least until I can get my hands on one of those keys, figure out a way to open up one of those portals and go back.

But back to what? I ask myself. Back to the life that I hated? Back to the trailer park? Back to my friendless high school existence? Back to serving greasy meals and alcohol, wearing practically nothing but my underwear, to perverted, just to make a few dollars? As much as I hate to admit it, there isn’t anything for me to go back for. It’s a sad thought, because it’s basically the same as saying that up until now, my life has been utterly meaningless and that I have nothing to live for.

I try to sweep the dark thoughts from my mind as I look out at the water. The sea has always been beautiful to me, and I’ve always loved the coastline, but the scene here is like no other I’ve ever seen. It’s wondrous, breathtaking, almost surreal. I itch to capture the scene with the stroke of my paintbrush, and with my artist’s eye, I can see the colors blending together to make up the picturesque scene.

From this viewpoint, I can see that Arcadia is an island surrounded by a cluster of other smaller islands. I can see what seems like the smallest of the islands in the distance. A mountainous isle surrounded by sandy shores with a large cluster of regal looking buildings sitting atop the highest plateau. I wonder what it is.

Magnus had told me earlier that Arcadia is the royal city. Looking up at the structures atop the mountains behind me, I can see why.

Two large palaces fill the horizon—the one that I’m standing closest to, and also the one that I had woken up in earlier, is the Evenstar palace as Magnus had told me. Then there’s another palace gleaming pure gold in the distance, which Magnus had said is the St. Tristan palace. There are other large manors and mansions in between, five of them, to be precise. Each one as impressive as the next.

The afternoon sun is blazing high in the clear blue sky and I tilt my face up to feel the heat of the sun against my cheeks, closing my eyes for a moment.

It’s then that I feel someone watching. I open my eyes to see what I think at first is a flare of sunlight atop one of the ledges overlooking the shore where I’m standing. I squint my eyes against the white light and as it fades, I can make out a figure—a very tall and broad shouldered figure against the daylight. I feel the breath catching in my throat because even from this distance, I can see the face looking down at me, and it is the most beautiful face I’ve ever seen. Handsome is too weak a word.

His perfectly chiseled features could’ve been carved from the stone that he’s standing on and his lips are sensual in contrast. Ash blonde hair gleams in the sunlight, forming a halo around that stunningly beautiful face. I find myself thinking that this is how the human stories about angels must have started, because this guy looks exactly how I think an angel might. Except in place of angelic white robes, this guy is wearing faded jeans and a white t-shirt, which accentuates his powerfully muscled body. The sight is surreal—he looks like a guy around my age but of course, I know he’s no normal guy. He’s a Seraph. Effectively, a god.

I notice his eyes then. Even from this distance, I can see that they’re blue. But not just any blue—a shade of blue as endless as the sky above me, so vivid, that it’s difficult to look at for too long without feeling disoriented. I can feel myself burning under the intensity of those eyes as they look at me, look into me, travel the length of me, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.