Wonderland Chapter Seven Teaser

Alright, so this weekend is Memorial Day weekend, and as I posted earlier somewhere, I'm going back home to Austin to see my family since I've been M.I.A. since Easter. As promised, I submitted WONDERLAND Chapter Seven to Lit today, since I'm not sure when Chapter Eight will go up. It's a bit of a doozie and it took a lot out of me to write. Hopefully it answers most of the questions everyone has - and brings up more. The next couple of chapters are going to be overwhelming for me, and already I wish I could just write a big "AND THEY ALL LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER", stick a fork in it and call it done. *sighs sadly* Obviously, I can't get my way, that'd be totally unfair to Tempest and the crew.
Anyway, before I leave, I wanted to post a teaser from Wonderland's Chapter Seven, because I enjoy messing with all of your minds. Without further ado...


WONDERLAND
Chapter Seven


“This is it?” Talon asked, his grey eyes wandering over the jagged rock before slowly tracing up the mountain face to the towering snow-capped peak above. The forest around them was absolutely silent and still, save for the tiniest breeze that ruffled the flyaway strands of Talon’s braid.

“It is,” Damien answered in a tone just as hushed as Talon’s. Something about this place required such solemnity...and it made Talon’s teeth ache.

Ruffling his wings slightly to dispel the growing uncertainty in his heart, Talon walked forward and through the yawning open cavern carved into the mountainside. With his back turned, he had missed the exchange of astonished looks between the six young trackers behind him.

Unknowingly, he had breached a powerful protection spell, cast by the Ancients themselves in the aftermath of the Great Battle. Without the permission of the Elders, walking into the entrance of the Final Eden should’ve killed him, but yet, he was still standing.

“Are you coming?” Talon asked the group, his low voice managing to echo. When none of them said a word, he looked over his shoulder to see six stricken faces staring back at him.

In that moment, a cloying smell of rotten fruit greeted his nostrils, the air thickening with the scent and coating his lungs as Talon took a deep breath.

The stricken looks on the tracker’s faces slipped into ones of horror as the source of the rotten stench stepped out of the darkness of the cavern.
Talon faced forward again and stared into the cold black eyes of the Raspan King, the gargantuan male’s thin lips pulled back to reveal a razor-sharp smile. Two scouts flanked the king in their natural Raspan forms, flashing yellowing teeth at the group at Talon’s back. The smell of fresh blood began to overpower that of the rot and Talon felt his heart clench with agony, though his expressionless face revealed nothing of the torment within.

The Final Eden, the Queensland hideout, the Elder’s sanctuary...it was gone. The overpowering wave of death and blood radiating from the tunnel at the Raspan King’s back foretold of what would be gathered inside.

Not for the first time since Talon’s awakening, he was reminded of the grim reality that faced him.

He was the last of the Ancients. He was the last of the Tze’hoc Clan. And all he had at his disposal to face the rapidly breeding menace that was his enemy were six weak-blooded Gargoyles and a snarky Drul.

The Raspan King, Fuyher-se, chuckled low in his massive throat before straightening up to his full height.

“Tze’sic. We meet again,” the Raspan King rumbled from low in his broad, muscled chest, amusement twisting the features of his face until they were far more grotesque than normal.

Talon smiled coldly. “That we have,” he answered quietly, his silver eyes glowing in the darkness of the cave, his magic coursing strong through his veins. He would not die in this cave, not when he still had his mate to go to, brood to raise, and a mass of people who he needed to protect. He would fight, albeit alone or with an army at his side.

Fuyher-se would not leave this cave unharmed. 

Talon would make sure of that.

The king, well aware of the Gargoyle’s intentions, chuckled. But he was no fool. A thousand years of rest and of unreleased magic made the slimmer male Gargoyle in front of him a dangerous enemy. But he would leave this cave alive. His scouts would make sure of that.

Fuyher-se smiled, his eyes turning a deep glowing crimson. “KILL THEM!” he commanded, his roar ringing in Talon's ears.

The cavern became a battlefield within seconds.

Talon did not hesitate – dodging Fuyher’s downward swipe with one beefy paw he kicked up off the rocky cavern floor and dug the claws of his feet into the Raspan’s thighs, gripping pure meaty muscle. Once he had a good grip he buried the claws of his hands into the Raspan’s forearms. Fuyher roared in agony as Talon dislodged muscle from bone, the sound of ripping flesh and their growls a background adding to the soundtrack of the fight raging around them.

Moving fast, Talon jerked the lower half of his body to throw the Raspan off-balance, the tipped claws of his wings’ forearms sinking into the king’s ankles to weaken his stance further. Fuyher grimaced and surged his arms forward, pushing against Talon’s strength, his fingers outstretched, hungering for the place where Talon’s wings met with his back.

Cutting his losses, Talon removed his toenails from the beast and kicked up his legs to shred his chest instead, curling up his body and launching off before Fuyher could grab hold.

The Raspan King touched the clawed flesh of his exposed chest in awe, watching as small chunks of black fur and muscle fell softly to the floor, his black blood flowing freely. Talon was breathing hard already, internally swearing at his prolonged inactivity. Ripping through Fuhyer had felt as though he had been attempting to claw through this mountain. His fingers and ankles radiated pain that spoke wonders of his remissive training.

Suddenly, the king let out a roar that had Talon wincing in agony at its strength. The Raspan threw himself at Talon, both bodies falling hard to the dirt. Not making the mistake of bringing up his wings, Talon used his tail to grip the Raspan’s throat then—

Wait.

His throat!

Talon let out a yell torn between relief and a battle cry as he maneuvered the large, fumbling Raspan King into an awkward angle on his side and sunk his teeth, fangs and all, into Fuyher’s flesh.

Unlike the bites he shared with Tempest, this blood-taking was meant to inflict pain. Judging by the massive yelps and roars that escaped Fuyher’s throat, Talon’s venom and fangs were doing just that. Talon closed his eyes briefly as the king’s magic and power flooded into his own being, the animalistic rage of the Raspan fueling his own strength and hunger.

Talon chuckled at the whimper the king released seconds later when Talon’s free hand sunk into the flesh of Fuyher’s back, digging through muscle, arteries, and other tissue to grab a hold of the king’s spine.

Talon...

The soft female whisper was his undoing.

Talon’s eyes whipped open, revealing the blood red of his irises. His eyes were unseeing of the remaining Raspan scout that came to aid his fallen leader. His eyes did not see the small team of Raspan’s that emerged from the forest and began to give aid to Quincy, who had been torn in half, or the female Raspan that was chasing after the scout coming towards him now.

Talon’s eyes were locked on the ghostly image of the woman he had left behind, of the mate he had yet to claim as his own.

“Tempest...” he breathed, his mouth sliding from the king’s neck.

He came to his senses much too late.


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...and have a great weekend, everyone!
Peace from ATX, LilyArc.