Bride of the Frontier (The Prophecy of Sisters Book 3) Read online

  “How?” I screech.

  She laughs softly, then reaches out and takes my hand in hers. “We will work together. We will figure it out, even if I have to cast a spell on you and guide you in the direction you need to go.”

  I lean forward, hope filling my chest, my heart, and my soul. “You can do that?”

  “I can do that, and I believe that it is time that I do. Your magic grows stronger each day and we must not allow it to grow so strong that you hurt yourself or someone else.”

  “Please help me,” I beg.

  Florence nods, then slowly rises to her feet. She holds out her hands and I slip my palms in hers as she gently pulls me to my own feet.

  “I like this dress much better than the first ones he brought over,” she says as she starts to undress me. “They were not created for a lady such as yourself.”

  “They were created for a whore,” I snap.

  She hums. “As I said, they were not created for a lady such as yourself.”

  She lifts her eyes, her gaze finding mine in the reflection of the mirror. “You are not, nor have you ever been Colton’s mistress. You are his lady and you were meant to be his wife, always.”

  “But Adelaide,” I breathe.

  She shakes her head. “Adelaide was kind of heart. She was sweet, but she was much too soft for him. She was never meant to be with the man that he is now, the ruler of an entire country. She was not chosen by the gods to be at his side. She was and always should have been the sweet wife to a farmer. You are and have always been meant to be the strong wife of a powerful leader, one who holds magic and charm.”

  Tears fill my eyes and I shake my head a couple of times. “Florence,” I rasp.

  “Now, let’s get you back in your day dress and try to get that magic under control.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  COLT

  I watch them.

  They’re in the distance, far away from the soldiers’ camp, but still close enough that I can see them and ensure their safety. Jeremiah, Markus, and Thatcher stand guard along with Ernest who hasn’t said anything about the letter from the Assembly or about the scholars and their words from earlier.

  “What do you think her magic could mean?” I chance asking him.

  He doesn’t speak immediately and I wait for him to say something, knowing that he is probably thinking of the best way to say what he wants to say. If anything, Ernest is always careful about the words he chooses.

  “I think that she is definitely special, chosen by the gods, but I also think that this is strange. The prophecy just states that the women will be powerful, that your children will be rulers, but nothing else. Shouldn’t it state something else, what is the purpose of this?”

  He has a point. Something that I have been wondering as well. As fantastical as all of this is, what is the purpose of it all? I think back to everything that the scholars have said. I think about the prophecy, about the gods, then I remember a book that I read once. A book that I still own.

  Leaving Ernest in my office, I hurry to the library. When the soldiers took over my home, they didn’t torch it like they did so many others. They left it in pristine condition for me to find, likely so that they could show me they only wanted to hurt my wife and daughter.

  In the library, I climb the ladder and reach for one of the books on the top shelf, its burgundy leather-bound with gold writing on the spin. I always thought it was just a fantasy novel, just something to pass the time, but perhaps it isn’t just that.

  Perhaps it is so much more.

  Climbing down from the ladder, I walk over to the couch and sink down on the edge as I thumb through the old novel. Ernest sits down next to me and waits for whatever I’m about to say to him.

  “It’s here,” I mutter. “I didn’t think that it could be, but it is.”

  “Sir?”

  Lifting my head, I look up at him. “I read this years ago, when I was newly married to Adelaide. It was a book that I found in my father’s collection after he passed on. I didn’t realize it could be real, it seemed too farfetched.”

  Ernest doesn’t bother asking for more clarification again, it’s not his style. He’s a one and done kind of guy. Clearing his throat, he waits for me to continue.

  “In this book, which I thought was just a fantasy, it is discussed that there will be a time that four women will come to our earth. They are goddesses created for four mortal men. However, they will be lusted after by all men, coveted and desired.”

  I grunt thinking about that. I don’t want any men lusting after Birdie, she’s mine. But then I think about Logan and Jeremiah, who were both immediately enamored by her. Inhaling a deep breath, I continue.

  “They fall in love with their warriors. They give them sons, heirs to their thrones.”

  “Then?” Ernest asks.

  Closing my eyes, I can’t help but think that if this book is so right in the beginning, then it must be right for the ending and I can’t deny that thinking about that makes me feel ill. I can’t go through it again, a great loss like that will break me.

  “Then they are tempted by the Devil himself and fall from the gods’ graces. They put the entire world in jeopardy and their husbands have to hide their own sons from them and stay in hiding until the sons are strong enough to fight the Devil and win back the world from his evil clutches.”

  Ernest sits back slightly, closing his eyes for a moment and lets out a breath. “Colton,” he rasps.

  Apparently, when Ernest is upset, he loses the sir bit and calls me by my first name. This is good to know. This is also something that I never wanted to know, because I’m just as upset.

  “Maybe this won’t happen,” he murmurs.

  “Perhaps.”

  We’re silent for another moment, then he shifts his gaze over to me. “It could, and you must prepare. We must prepare.”

  “We need to find the others.”

  He dips his chin in a nod. “Marriage first, then searching for her sisters.”

  “The Assembly will be here and they will cart us off,” I mumble.

  He jerks his chin in a nod. “They will, but this will not stop our scouts from finding the sisters. We already know they hail from Bunafi and Wolfjour Ail. They will be easy to find and easy to communicate with.”

  Pressing my lips together, I think about that. I haven’t had a moment to think about the fact that her sisters are married to the most ruthless and infamous warriors in our world. This should not surprise me as it is what the prophecy proclaims, but it still is unnerving.

  “We will not allow the women to become susceptible. Wolfjour Ail and Bunafi are lands that are known for their magic and we have Florence, this will have a positive outcome.”

  “I hope that you’re right, Ernest.”

  His lips turn up into a grin. “I know that I am, sir. The world would not give you the light that it has and take it away, not twice. She is a cruel place, but she is not heartless.”

  “Ernest,” I choke.

  He shakes his head a couple of times. “Just believe in the gods’ plans, for they know what they do. Perhaps that story is one of four warriors and their brides who failed? Perhaps, your story will be of ones that succeed.”

  BIRDIE

  The men stand far enough away that they can’t hear every word that I say to Florence, but they’re close enough to do their job if they need to. Clearing my throat, I look behind to them, then shift my gaze back to meet hers.

  “Try it,” she demands.

  Licking my lips, I press them together and wonder if it would really be the right thing to do, or if it’s an invasion of privacy. It really feels like an invasion. Her gaze narrows on me and she shakes her head once, then jerks her chin in their direction, behind my shoulder.

  “Okay,” I finally say, giving in.

  Closing my eyes, I concentrate. There is a warmth that fills me almost immediately. I push the sensation away as I shift my focus to Jeremiah. I don’t know if I can cont
rol this, but if I can, this will be huge—massive

  Inhaling, I sense the scent of smoke from the campfires, there is chattering amongst the men, but I push that noise away. The wind blows, there is the scent of the red dirt that follows it, then I think of Jeremiah.

  It takes all of the concentration that I have inside of me, but I do it.

  She is beautiful and kind. James does not deserve the creature that she is. I would like a wife like her someday.

  If this prophecy is true, I wonder what it has in store for us, for our country and for our world.

  Something zaps and crackles around me and my body jolts forward, my back arching as I open my eyes wide and breathe heavily. Florence has her eyes closed and her arms extended, her palms facing me.

  Sparks fly from her hands and slam into my chest, causing my back to arch again. She’s mumbling something, but I can’t quite make it out. I open my mouth to ask her what’s happening, but nothing comes out.

  Then everything stops. I can hear shouting behind me. The world starts to spin around me, then my knees grow weak and everything goes completely dark.

  JEREMIAH

  I’m unsure if I should go to Florence or Birdie. Instead, I stand and stare at them both in surprise. Magic. It’s outlawed here, and yet, Colt has allowed it for this instance. I clear my throat, wondering what in the gods’ name I’m supposed to do.

  Deciding that my first priority must be to Birdie, I rush to her aide. Scooping her up in my arms, I yell for Thatcher. He doesn’t even need direction before he wraps his hand around Florence’s elbow.

  Quickly the four of us hurry into the house. We walk past dozens of men who are frozen in surprise watching us. Markus shouts for everyone to mind their own business and get back to work while following behind.

  Once we’re inside, I call out for Colt as I hurry up the stairs and straight toward Birdie’s bedroom. Laying her down on her bed, I’m surprised to hear a commotion and see Martha standing at the doorway instead of Colt.

  “What’s happened?” she demands.

  “I don’t know, magic,” I mutter.

  Her eyes widen and she shifts her gaze to the side where Thatcher is standing with Florence. Florence has her chin tipped up in the air and she doesn’t even look toward Martha, or anyone else.

  I open my mouth to ask what exactly is happening, when I’m interrupted by Colton, who pushes past Florence and Martha, making his way into the bedroom. He dips his chin down to look at Birdie, then lifts his gaze to meet mine.

  “What did you allow to happen to her?” he snaps.

  I open my mouth to tell him that I didn’t do anything, when Florence speaks. “I’ve blocked her magic for the moment. I’ve absorbed what I can. I don’t know how long it will last, but she is only growing stronger and she is unable to control it.”

  “Florence,” Colt hisses. “This does not sit well with me. Her magic is of the gods and not for you to take.”

  Then, for whatever reason, Florence’s gaze shifts to meet mine before she speaks. “Birdie can tap into people’s minds. She can hear their thoughts and she could hear Jeremiah’s.”

  The room is silent and my breath squeezes from my lungs at the idea of Miss Birdie being able to hear my thoughts. I try to remember what I was thinking when we were outside and my face pales. I was thinking of her, of how attracted to her I am.

  “Her magic grows, Colton,” Florence announces.

  Taking a step backward, I wonder what all of this means. The prophecy is so vague, everything that Colton has told me, is just theory and that she and her sisters are going to be powerful and they are meant to be the wives of the most powerful leaders of the world. But then what?

  “Sparks flew between us earlier. I don’t know how, but they did. Are you saying, telepathy, like how I talk to Lonesable? It seems impossible,” he rasps. “Especially for a woman.”

  Slowly, he makes his way toward the side of the bed, and I watch as he sinks down next to her. Watching them together, I realize that their pull is indeed intense. It’s so strong that you can practically feel it.

  I would be more surprised in this moment if the gods were not involved, because this all seems so unworldly. Then it happens. He reaches out, his fingers touching the side of her face, and a light starts to glow around them.

  “Oh my,” Florence gasps.

  They begin to fade, Colton calls out, but the sound fades as they simply disappear in front of us.

  Turning my head, I look over to Florence, but she is not offering any calm advice. Her mouth is hanging open and she’s staring at the empty bed. Then she lets out a wail and extends her hands.

  Florence starts to chant something that I can’t understand and sparks fly from her fingertips, but nothing happens. Then as if whatever she is trying to do completely depletes her energy, she collapses as well.

  Thatcher scoops her up and Ernest demands she be taken to his room, all the while the rest of us just continue to stare at one another, exchanging glances, but too in shock to actually speak. Then, as if things could not get any stranger, they do.

  We hear a loud neigh, then there are shouts of the men from all around the camp. Rushing toward the window, I blink, more than once, at the sight before me. A gigantic white horse, a gigantic flying white horse is landing in the middle of the camp with a man on its back.

  “I think the prophecy is about to begin,” Markus breathes.

  “I think it’s already begun.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  COLT

  It’s as if a bright light flashes in front of me, barring me from seeing anything around us. I pinch my eyes closed, gripping Birdie’s hand tightly, unsure of what is happening around us. When it disappears, I blink a few times and glance around the room.

  We’re in a cave.

  Clearing my throat, I stand to my feet, taking Blue Lightnin’ out of my hip holster. I hear a growl and spin around to see one of my lions standing right next to Birdie.

  Did you bring me here? I demand.

  He shakes his head once, then turns and looks down at a still passed out Birdie.

  Her magic is strong. I can smell it. She brought you here.

  How? She is passed out.

  He grunts, not giving me an answer, probably because he doesn’t know what it could be. We watch one another for a moment, then he grunts again and jerks his head.

  She will wake soon.

  Where are we? I demand.

  Just outside of your property, not far. A day’s ride to your home.

  It’s my turn to snort. Not far? We have no horse, we don’t have proper coverings from the sun or water to drink. A day’s ride will be a three-day walk, in the elements, which means we could and probably would die on the way.

  Just as I am about to tell the beast that we would not make the journey, Birdie stirs on the floor of the cave. Crouching down next to her, I watch as the lion sits back on his hindquarters and watches.

  Birdie’s eyelids slowly flutter open, then they focus on me and they widen. She sits straight up, lifting her palm to her head and resting it against her forehead as she inhales a deep breath before releasing it.

  “Colt?” she whispers as her eyelids open again. “Where are we?”

  I smirk. “You transported us to the lion’s den. I don’t know how, considering I didn’t even know where it was,” I inform her.

  We like it that way. The lion announces, loud and clear in my head.

  Birdie’s eyes widen and she turns her head, probably sensing the lion at her side. I hear her let out a little screech before she shifts her gaze back to meet mine.

  “How?” she hisses.

  Chuckling, I shake my head. “I don’t know. Florence told me that she took some of your power outside, that she also put some kind of spell on you to hinder your magic. I sense that it did not work.”

  Birdie laughs, though it doesn’t sound very humor-filled, it actually sounds very strained. Then her eyes fill with tears.

&nbs
p; “I don’t know how I did this. What do we do?” she whispers.

  Clearing my throat, I reach for her, gathering her in my arms as I sit down on the floor of the cave, before I situate her in my lap. Lifting one of my hands, I tuck a piece of loose hair behind her ear as I look into her eyes.

  “I’ll call for Lonesable. He’ll come to us. The lions will give him directions.”

  Not likely.

  Turning my head to the lion, I narrow my gaze at him. It’s either that or we make a home out of your den for ourselves?

  He lets out a disgruntled sigh and shakes his head, his mane moving from side to side as well. Fine, he snaps.

  Though I think we may need your protection, could you move closer to the house for a few weeks? There are two groups and whatever this prophecy is hurtling toward us.

  He snorts in my direction, then stands and turns away from me before walking deeper into the den. We will do this for you.

  “Colt?” Birdie whispers.

  “I asked him to move the lions closer to the house. I’m going to reach out to Lonesable to come out this way and take us home.”

  She presses her lips together, her gaze searching my own. “I have to confess something,” I whisper. I watch her for a long moment, her eyes still shifting as they search mine. “I can hear other people’s thoughts.”

  I should tell her that I already know, but I decide against it. She thinks that she is telling me something important, and it is, but she doesn’t need to feel as though it is insignificant because I already know this about her.

  “What have you learned?” I ask softly.

  She smiles, though it’s a sad smile and my heart aches at the sight. “You love me,” she breathes.

  My lips twitch. “I already told you that I did, darlin’.”

  She nods her head. “Yes, but I heard it in my head first, in my head, but in your words with your voice. I can also hear my sister Dru sometimes.”