Corrupted: An Epic Dragons and Immortals Romantic Fantasy (Fallen Emrys Chronicles Book 1) by E.E. Everly (motivational books for men txt) 📕

I could have counted them. The wind rustled his umber curls, and his hazel eyes glinted in the low light.

Brenin grinned, causing his eyes to crinkle around the edges. His unwavering regard flustered me, broke me out into a sweat, and nearly had me gasping for breath, so I looked beyond his ear into the meadow.

Yes, the meadow. Completely safe.

His tempting hazel eyes were not.

The day had shifted into evening, but the sky still held its brilliant blue light and billowing clouds. The grass and wildflowers swayed in the wind.

I vaguely heard the sheep call as the wind whipped stray strands of hair across my face and batted my skirt against my ankles. “Ahnalyn,” my flock teased. “Ahnalyn. What have you gotten yourself into now?”

I was hallucinating.

Unable to grasp the full repercussions of what I’d uttered, I absentmindedly brushed the hair out of my face and clarified. “You’ll have your answer in three days.”

“All right, Ahnalyn.” Brenin’s voice held a slight amusement, and his smile didn’t falter.

Rigid with unease, I stared blankly. My attention didn’t return to Brenin until he grabbed my hand and squeezed it.

I hesitantly emerged from my torpor and looked at him apologetically. “Sorry.” The warmth and strength of his hand was a comfort.

“An escort will arrive for you the third morning.” He leaned in and kissed me—a faint, delightful flutter—on my cheek.

My lungs stopped moving.

Brenin turned away, gently dropping my hand. He slipped down the hill and faded into the sun’s glare.

Somehow, I remembered to breathe again.

I’m nuts. Completely nuts.

What have I agreed to?

As I’d done countless times in the past, I rubbed my fingers across the iridescent stone hanging from the leather cord around my neck. The smoothness reassured me and kept me sane, especially when I said hasty words to charming men.

Just one charming man.

Why’d I tell him three days? I thumped my palm on my forehead. He’s sending an escort! He seemed so sure of my response. But was I? I should have refused him, but only an absolute fool would dismiss such a life-changing offer.

I slumped to my knees and cradled my heavy head in my hands. The rustling of the leaves drowned out all but the relentless bleating of my flock, who were still mocking me. With my eyes closed, I tilted my face to the sky, soaking in the day’s radiance and feeling the tranquil breeze.

I don’t know if I should do this. Mother, tell me what to do.

A glimmer of flame blazed into my vision, and heat more powerful than the sun’s warmth rushed over me.

Don’t be afraid of the unknown, whispered a soothing voice in my head. This is a path you can trust.

No. I flushed, not the least bit alarmed by the familiar voice and vision in my mind. This is a path that will change my life forever.

AHNALYN

The evening task of ushering the sheep into the paddock stretched on forever. I secured the bleating throng in the pen, relieved their mocking had withered to timid jabs, and rushed across the shadowy yard to a modest cottage. I pushed the old wooden door open to welcome the pungent scent of stew.

“Onion… my favorite.” I wiped my hands on my skirt while I crossed the room to give my father, Owein, a kiss on his stubbly jaw. “Smells delicious.”

Father huffed. “Same meal we had the night before.” He picked up a bowl to ladle stew into it.

I smiled. Father was still a handsome man for his age, with a strong build matching his equally energetic spirit.

“Tad,” I said, calling him the endearment children used for their fathers. “I’ll do that. Sit. I have something to tell you.”

How to start? What would be his reaction?

“Do ya now?” Father surrendered the bowl into my hands, and I dished the contents of the pot into it.

With shaking hands, I passed the bowl to Tad and began filling one for myself.

“Might it have to do with that boy?” Tad asked.

“That boy? You mean that man. Brenin is a man.” My cheeks became hot as I recalled the whisper of Brenin’s lips against my face.

That was the closest I had come to a real kiss.

And it had nearly made me pass out.

“Still a boy in the eyes of a father. Don’t tell me it makes any difference with his upbringing.” Father blew on a spoonful of stew, so steady, so calm.

Meanwhile, my chest was quickly tightening.

I ruffled Tad’s short hair before sitting at the table just big enough for two, knocking my knee on the leg. I winced but held in a curse. That was the second time in four days I’d done that. Instead of picking up my spoon, I scrutinized Father’s face. His tan, leathery skin contrasted with mine, which never reddened in the sun and stayed as pale as the moon.

We didn’t look alike at all. Except our brown hair.

I blurted my words. “He asked me to marry him.” I expected Tad to sputter and cough his food across the table.

I was wrong.

Father didn’t show any response. He lifted another spoonful to his mouth and took a careful sip.

I slapped the table, hoping to rile him. “Tad! Did you hear me? Aren’t you going to say anything?” I couldn’t believe he sat there emotionless. The man who had raised me, his only daughter, on his own, didn’t care that I had been asked to marry someone!

Slowly but surely, a smile curved on his mouth, showing unmistakable mischief. “I know.”

Ready to throttle him, I shook my head. “What… you know? How’s that possible?”

“Brenin came to the house this afternoon before he met you in the meadow.”

My mouth hung agape. “He asked your permission?”

Father stopped eating. “He most