Goings - Kindred

Other Books By Rebecca Goings

On Eagles Wings

In Your Arms

The B*E*A*S*T* Within

B*E*A*S*T* of Burden

Underneath The Mistletoe (in Mistletoe Magic)

Promise Me Forever

Nature of the B*E*A*S*T

Sincerely Yours

Once A Dreamer

Champagne Books Presents

Kindred

By

Rebecca Goings

This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the authors imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Champagne Books

www.champagnebooks.com

Copyright 2009 by Rebecca Goings

ISBN 978-1-926681-78-8

March 2010

Cover Art Amanda Kelsey

Produced in Canada

Dedication

For my daughter Hannah, who, with her childlike imagination, helped Mommy name Spirit Mountain. And for Donica, who kicked my ass to get this beeyotch out the friggin door.

One

Portland, Oregon, Present Day

Alana, sweetheart, you are not human.

Alana Caprias eyes widened at her grandmothers dying words. Hush, Grandmother. Dont talk now. With tears in her eyes, she pulled up the blanket on the old womans chest.

Nonsense, her grandmother said with a slight grin. You think I am senile, but Im not. My heart is failing, not my mind.

Alana sniffled, her chin trembling. Her grandmother was suddenly wracked with a bout of coughing, but refused the water Alana offered.

Grandmother, please dont die. A deep despair overcame her and she closed her eyes to ward off the sting of her tears.

Ohposh, the old woman whispered. Everyone must gosometime.

She lay in a large mahogany bed next to a bright, sunny window with warm sunlight filtering through it. The walls of the room were paneled in dark wood, with expensive oil paintings adorning them. Grandmother hadnt wanted to die in a hospital. Shed wanted a peaceful passingin her own bed.

Youre too young to die. Alana trembled as she sat on the bed, taking the older womans hand in hers.

It is true. I am young. But this world has aged me muchfasterthan Dragoran.

Dragoran? Grandmother, lie back on your pillows and rest. You arent making any sense.

Raising her brow, the older woman chuckled, but then looked as if she regretted it, coughing violently into her lace handkerchief. Alana, its time you learned the truth.

What truth?

Taking a deep breath, her grandmother said again, You are not human.

But

Shush. I am dying. Let me speak.

With a slow nod, Alana nibbled her bottom lip with worry. Her grandmother was obviously delirious. She decided to humor her.

This will behard for you to hear, but hear it you must. You are not fromthis world. Your mother and father did not die in a car accident when you were a baby, and Iam not your true grandmother.

Alanas eyes filled with fresh tears. What?

I was aservantin your parents household in Dragoran.

Is that another country? Wiping the tears from her eyes, Alana smiled and tried to play along.

No, my dear. Another world. Dragoran is the kingdom of dragon-shifters, and you, sweet Alana, are one of them.

Dragons? Alana repeated, taking in all the knickknacks and paintings in the roomeach one depicting a majestic dragon. For as long as she could remember, her grandmother always had a fascination with them. She even had a standing mirror adorned with many dragons carved into the dark wood curling around the glass.

Glancing up from the bed, Alana saw that very mirror in the corner of the room, shimmering with the reflected light from the sun. Her own reflection looked haggard. She needed a shower and a good nights sleep something fierce, but she refused to leave her grandmothers side. It had been a rough night, and Alana had the bags under her eyes to prove it.

Ah yes, her grandmother said, her voice a little softer. Your eyes are drawn to the gateway.

I was admiring your mirror, Alana said. I always did love it.

And rightly so, child. It is not just any mirror, but a gateway to Dragoran, to your very own betrothed, Rionshalintaris.

Smiling, Alana cocked her head, enjoying her grandmothers strange story. My betrothed?

The older woman nodded. From the House of Ice, he is. And the Crown Prince of Dragoran, a stunning blue dragon shifter who breathes icy fire.

Tell me then, Grandmother, why are we here instead of there?

Your parentswere murdered. Alana gasped as her grandmother coughed into her handkerchief.

They were killed right afteryou were betrothed to Rion. You see, my dear, you are special. Your birthmark gives you away. You are from the extremely rare House of the Sun. She paused to take a deep breath. There is only one dragon-shifter born to that House every thousand years.

Unconsciously, Alana rubbed at her birthmark under the fabric of her white cotton shirt. It was underneath her left collarbone. She often stared at it as a child, admiring its strange golden color and wondering why it resembled a dragon in flight. But that had merely been the fancy of a child, finding shapes in strange things, especially when her own grandmother had a penchant for the winged, mythical beasts.

II wassupposed to bring you through the gateway myself on your twenty-second birthday a few weeks ago, her grandmother said, panting now. That was to bethe day of your bonding toto Rion. But I was in the damned hospital!

Grandmother, dont upset yourself, Alana said, pushing her back down into the pillows. Youll only be in more pain.

The old woman winced and closed her eyes, collapsing with exhaustion. Go to him, she whispered. Alana barely heard her words.

Who?

Rionshalintaris, my dear. The mirror will take you to him. It is a gateway to Dragoran. Believe me, childyou are the only one who can ensure the reign of the House of Ice for the next thousand years. If you do not go backI fear the House of Fire will attempt to overthrow Rion and his family, and all of Dragoran will be thrown into chaos.

II dont understand, Alana said, sniffling. Her grandmother wasnt making any sense.

The older womans hand reached out and grabbed hold of Alanas right shoulder. A surging bolt of heat suddenly shot forth from her palm, burning Alanas skin, and the birthmark underneath her clothing began to throb. The outline of the mark itself seemed to cut into her shoulder, making her cry out in pain.

Looking under her collar, Alana could see the mark actually glowing. A curious wonder came over her as she glanced back at her grandmother.

What did you do? she whispered in awe.

Ive awakenedthe shifterin you, my dear. The old woman fell back to the bed, gasping. Go to Rion. He is your Kindred. Reclaim your birthright. Be the next queenof Dragoran

But Grandmother, I Looking up from underneath her shirt, Alanas eyes rested on her grandmothers vacant gaze. Grandmother?

With a burning shoulder and a burning heart, she bent over and softly kissed the old womans cheek. Hot tears escaped her eyes as uncontrollable sobs shook her entire body.