Wizard
Micah Norwood was exiled from his cabal, but he didn't leave empty-handed.
Every cabal possesses a Focus Gem, a crystal used to store collective energies,
used only for wide-reaching spells. He knows his cabal is readying to overthrow
a Dark Fae House, but he doesn't know why. After meeting Kirof, a Dark Fae on
the run from his own House, Micah realizes he can't let the cabal succeed.
Kirof,
formerly of House Vakeor, has no idea why his companion Micah was exiled, but
he knows it's only a matter of time before the wizards or the Dark Fae find
them. Desperately trying to keep them one step ahead of their pursuers, Kirof
finds himself caring far more for Micah than he should.
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EXCERPT
All
rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Mychael Black
Micah Norwood wandered into the adjacent sitting room, half asleep. He paused
in the doorway. Kirof still slept in one of the chairs. Micah had tried getting
the man to share the bed, but Kirof had resisted. Micah had never been the type
to just make the first move, but waiting for Kirof to do it was slowly driving him
insane. The desire between them had been strong from the moment they'd first
met. It was a weird mix of hot and unnerving.
"Micah?"
He
shook his head, belatedly realizing he'd zoned off. He smiled at Kirof.
"Lost in thought. Are you regretting the chair yet?"
Kirof
stood slowly, wincing as if in pain. Sleeping in a chair sucked. Been there,
done that. Micah held the man's gaze as Kirof approached him. Pale hair fell
over Kirof's broad shoulders, and ice-blue eyes held Micah more spellbound than
anything he'd ever conjured himself.
"Not
necessarily the chair," Kirof said.
"Yeah?"
Micah stopped short of daring Kirof to take one more step closer. He had to
look up, considering the Dark Fae was nearly a foot taller. He'd always hated
being short, but something about a taller man made him weak in the knees.
Broad, muscled. Kirof defied every Fae stereotype that existed, dark or light.
Kirof
braced his hands on either side of the doorframe. Micah forced himself to look
at the man's face and not the muscular arms outstretched above him. Kirof
leaned down, and Micah held his breath, praying. Just when Micah thought he'd
finally get the kiss he'd been wanting since they first met, someone knocked on
the door.
Spell
broken, Kirof stepped away, shaking his head as if trying to clear it. Micah
wanted to launch an ice bolt at whatever jackass had interrupted. Kirof opened
the door, revealing one of his brothers, Roen. Roen's human lover, Kyle,
followed the Dark Fae into the room. Kirof shut the door behind them.
"Have
you seen Aron?" Roen asked, his expression one of concern.
"No,"
Kirof said. "We just woke up. Well, I did." He glanced at Micah.
Micah
shook his head. "I haven't been awake long. Is Aron not in his room?"
Roen
sat down, brow furrowed. "No." He glanced up. "All his stuff is
gone."
Kirof
blinked. "Gone? Where the hell would he go? You know him better than
anyone."
"I
don't know," Roen said. "This isn't like him, Kirof. He wouldn't just
up and leave without saying anything to me. Something isn't right about this."
"No
need to get worked up yet," Kirof said. "I'm sure he's fine. Is there
anyone else he'd want to visit?"
"Wait.
What about that waitress we met?" Kyle asked Roen.
"She
and Aron seemed to be rather... friendly."
Roen
shook his head. "Tanra would come here. She knows where this place is.
Hell, she's sent a few folks here for safety. If she and Aron wanted to get
together, this would be the best place to do it."
Kyle
grumbled. "I thought twins could mind read each other." Chuckling,
Roen put his arm around his lover's shoulders. "Fairy tales."
Something
felt off to Micah, though he couldn't figure out what. Aron had seemed
perfectly fine, if a bit aloof, when they'd met. What could have changed? Micah
went back into the bedroom and sat in the makeshift circle he'd set out on the
wooden floor. He tried focusing on Aron, picturing the man in his mind, every
detail.
Hazy
images began to form, and he relaxed more to allow them through. Someone,
another Dark Fae, spoke to Aron, though the stranger's back was turned. Micah
tried to focus on Aron's lips in hopes of catching any words that might help.
Aron and the stranger started out of whatever room they were in, and Micah
caught a glimpse of what looked like an insignia on the stranger's left arm. A
tattoo?
Micah
sighed as the image faded.
"Any
luck?" Kirof asked from the doorway.
"I
don't know," Micah said. He looked at Roen, who stood just behind Kirof.
"I saw him speaking to someone, another Dark Fae. The stranger had a
tattoo on his left arm." He patted his own bicep. "Black, two swords
crossed, with a rose in the bottom open space."
Roen's
brow furrowed. "That's House Kehru's insignia. Aron was supposed to
babysit a delegate visiting House Vakeor, but that was before we left. There's
no reason why he'd do so now. He'd be in chains the second he stepped foot into
House Vakeor territory."
"What
about exiles from House Kehru?" Kyle asked from behind Roen. "Are
there any?"
"Not
that we know of," Roen said. "But I could be mistaken. Micah, were
you able to hear them at all? Or see where they might be?"
"I
tried to read Aron's lips, but I assume he spoke your language. None of the
words looked even remotely familiar. As for place, a room of stone. Stone
walls, ceiling. I couldn't see the floor. The door they walked out of was
wooden, though. No windows either."
Roen
sighed. "That doesn't bode well. It sounds like he's back underground, but
why? What is he doing there?"
Micah
met Kirof's gaze. The Dark Fae's expression mirrored what Micah feared might be
the case. Micah drew in a deep breath before speaking.
"Roen...
how well do you trust your twin?"
ABOUT
THE AUTHOR
Myc
has been writing professionally since 2005, solo and with Shayne Carmichael.
Genres include pretty much anything (no steampunk yet), though Myc is well
known for paranormal stories. When not writing, Myc is usually playing PC
games, reading, watching Netflix, and spending way too much time on Facebook.
Since the question has come up in the past, pronouns are not an issue. Myc is
bio-female, mentally male, and 100% genderfluid, so any pronoun works!
"Black's
work is poetic and haunting. Nobody can pull off smoldering sex alongside
holler-deep, soulful characters like Mychael Black." --Sara Jay
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