lightning witch 02 - lightning legacy

• Prologue
  
• Chapter One
  
• Chapter Two
  
• Chapter Three
  
• Chapter Four
  
• Chapter Five
  
• Chapter Six
  
• Chapter Seven
  
• Chapter Eight
  
• Chapter Nine
  
• Chapter Ten
  
• Chapter Eleven
  
• Chapter Twelve
  
• Chapter Thirteen
  
• Chapter Fourteen
  
• Chapter Fifteen
  
• Chapter Sixteen
  
• Chapter Seventeen
  
• Chapter Eighteen
  
• Chapter Nineteen
  
• Chapter Twenty
  
• Chapter Twenty-One
  
• Chapter Twenty-Two
  
• Chapter Twenty-Three
  

Published by

Crushing Hearts and Black Butterfly Publishing, LLC.

Novi, Michigan 48374

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, duplicated, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

Copyright © 2015 by Emily Cyr

Cover Designed by: Najla Qamber Designs

Editing for CHBB / Elizabeth A. Lance

Proofreading / Jolene Buchheit

Proofreading / Kristina Circelli with Red Road Editing

Though some of the places are real, this is a work of fiction. The names, characters, and situations in this work are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to any persons (living or dead) or situations is merely a coincidence.

No part of this work may be reproduced in any form, other than a brief quote in a review or article, without the written permission of the author.

All rights reserved.

This book is for the one I lost and will never get to hold.
 

Special thanks to Sarra and Jolene.

Your friendship has meant the world to me.

***Trigger Warning***

There are some things in this book that may prove to be a trigger for some readers (themes include abuse and loss). Remember, this is a story about change and growth. One cannot grow stronger without tribulations.

Bravery is the capacity to perform properly even when scared half to death.

—Omar N. Bradley

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter  Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Mil

IT WAS COLD
in death. I knew it would be. It wasn’t the real thing though. This was a dream. And this was his way. His way to tell me what I should do with Delaney. It wasn’t the first time he had come to me in a dream, but I had an odd sense of finality, as though this would be the last time. His way to tell me his will. I follow the old ways of the Druid, not this warped witchery of a godless Coven.

Feeling brave, I slid my eyes open to find I was in snow, a large expanse. I stood in the middle with snow falling all around me. I looked down and saw I was in my nightgown. Yet I was not near as cold as I should be for this weather. Aye, this was his doing. Taranis, god of the storm.

“Oy, Taranis, I’m here. What do ya want with an old witch?” It wasn’t like me to taunt a god. Oh wait, yes it was.

Laughter filled the large expanse, seeming to run over my skin, lighting every nerve ablaze. Still, I did not see him. Then I felt his hands cup my face. They were warm and the gesture was loving. Yet I knew this god. I knew he had his own agenda and nothing would stand in his way, not even my beloved Delaney. Slowly, he revealed himself to me. He was a tall man, at least in this form. I was not some new babe, naive enough to think this god had only one form. Though this was the form Delaney would describe to me when he visited her in her dreams. She was so young then.

“Millea, is that any way to talk to the god of old?” His tone was scolding, but it held a note of amusement.

I would not be cowed, not even by a god.

“Taranis, you meddle with my child. I have raised her since she was just a wee thing. That girl carries my heart. I do not take kindly to this prophecy, nor do I take kindly to you trying to harm her. I just want her to live a full life, without complication."

I was breathing hard; clearly this conversation was a long time coming. Behind the god, lightning struck the snow-covered Earth. The flare of light echoed the flash in his eyes. I’d angered him. I was not afraid though.

“Millea, you knew this would happen. And you know what comes next. She will die. Fear not, old woman, she will rise. And when she does, she and her mate will unite the two separate lines into one. And, she alone will end the reign of these weak beings called witches.”

His tone had calmed, yet still held his eastern European accent.

I felt the warm trails of my tears as they rolled down my cheeks. I turned my face from him. I couldn’t have this conversation. This talk of my adopted daughter willingly sacrificing herself. I felt his too-warm finger slip under my chin, coaxing my face to look up at him.

“Oh Mil, she is of me too. Do you think I would let any harm come to her?”

His voice was low and controlled and I saw something in his dark gaze, something that looked much like love. My emotions that had bristled softened somewhat.

"Will she hurt?" It was a mere whisper. I couldn't help it though.

“Yes. Pain beyond anything she could imagine. Sometimes to grow and evolve we must have so much pain it breaks us. Then, we will be forced to find a way to put ourselves back together. That is what will unite her power and that will make her a true Druid of old.”

His words were firm, but I could not accept them.

“Take her pain. I’ll beg you if I need to. I’ll do anything! Please take her pain away.”

My voice was shaking and I had no care.

He raised his eyebrow to me as though he was contemplating my words.

“At her moment of death, I will take her pain as a gift to you. But, she must hurt. She must break. I cannot help her until the moment she shatters.”

My lips pursed and, just as I was about to speak, he held up his hand in a motion to silence me. Just then, I noticed the snow was swirling around us as though we were the eye of a storm.

“I have need of you. I have one more task for you.”

He ran a finger down my cheek in a way that a lover did.

“This will be your last.”

With his words, a knot formed in my stomach.

“What is that?” I asked in a weary tone. I realized I was tired, so tired deep within my bones.

“I need you to not fight the wolf who comes to you this day. I need you to give up your life for Delaney.”

The breath I hadn’t realized I was holding left my body with a whoosh. I had to leave my daughter to be killed. For Delaney, I would do anything. I nodded to him. It was all I could manage. I had questioned him early on in our interactions as to why I should heed his instructions. His answer was simple. If I didn’t, my fate would be worse than death. I could feel the pressing weight of his power. The only thing I could compare it to was, well, God.

“Here, take this, and when you feel pain or fear this will ease it. Also, this coin will give your power what it needs in order to do what it was meant to do. This coin will gift your powers,” he said, handing me a small golden disk.

I raised it to look at it more fully. The only thing depicted on it was what looked to be a wagon wheel.
What my power was meant to do?
What did that mean? I looked up to question the god but, much like his nature, he was gone, not even leaving behind footprints in the snow. I sat down in the fluffy white mass and fingered the ridges on the coin and waited to wake up. Waited to meet my fate.