In my shadow you sleep, hungry for my soul.
In my heart you live, nurtured and at peace.
In my life you belong, always.
The red dawn of war clashes with the tide. Black descends. Shadows come alive.
I call to you. I see you across the field of battle, calling to me. So many stand between us.
I turn away to the tide; the tide sweeps forward, surging, billowing, covering.
I raise my hand and stare at the sky above. Silence descends. A hush. Tears fall down. Liquid, they fall down my face, down my grimy cheeks, onto my bloodstained clothes.
I raise my other hand. A burst of time shoots forward, galloping like my heart as I wait for the final blow . . . but it never comes. I've frozen the moment in time as the blade meant for my heart pierces his.
The sobs choke my chest as I stare at the metal, gleaming red like the rising sun, sticking from his chest. His eyes are frozen as well, locked onto mine. They look unsurprised. I sink down to my knees; tears fall harder.
I hear your voice. A shout, a scream of pain and anger and despair and fear from across the field. I don't turn. I look straight ahead to the eyes that are locked onto mine as I bring both of my hands down in a gesture as sharp as the blade. Light explodes outward from me, shooting across the battlefield, consuming everything.
I fall. He falls too. His eyes speak the things he cannot say. They close after a minute, but mine stay open.
You reach me then. Everyone else is flattened, reeling on the blood-soaked earth, but you reach me. You turn me face up. You gather me in your arms. You weep, but my eyes are dry now. My eyes are dry. "It will be alright," I whisper to you. "It will be alright.
Auri is just an elven girl raised in the human castle and courts of Ardalan. She knows nothing about the prophecy of the White Queen, and even less about elves. All she knows is a world of human political intrigue, and the intelligence gleaned from her foster father's spies . . .
The word is out. The Rebel Dragons are on the move again, and death, fear and destruction are all that they leave in their wake.
And then Liran finds her.
Liran is the leader of the Vi'dal, an elite, elven task-force sent out years ago by the queen of the elves to find a way to stop the death that is spreading across the known lands. Their task--find the White Queen.
The White Queen is the fabled hero of the future. A queen so powerful that she is able to unite dragons, elves, animals, humans and dwarves against the Rebel Dragons and defeat them. An elf who heals by touch, and who can travel to the center of the earth and ignite the fires of their dying world.
An elf so powerful that she is said to be able to stop time itself . . . and even reverse it.
About the Author
Dusty lives in California with her family who keeps her very busy. She has superpowers, but doesn't like to talk about them, frequently bemoans the fact that she doesn't have Sees Candy stock, thinks taking care of yourself is a way of life and not just a fad, and tries to live each day with the motto that you only get one life to live, so live it well, and live it to the fullest. As an avid watcher of movies and reader of books, she frequently considers herself a ninja (especially around spiders), wishes that the owners of the beach house she loves would just give her the keys already, and really wants the car KITT from Knight Rider to be tucked snugly inside of her garage. She doesn't think he'd mind being painted blue. She'd love to hear from you! You can find her on Twitter, Linkdin, Facebook and Goodreads.