New York Times bestselling author Donna Grant returns to her beloved
Kindred world with an all-new, captivating fantasy romance series sure to
capture hearts.
Elin
feels as if she’s been in the fight of her life forever. She lost her mother to
prejudice and misunderstanding and her sister to the Coven, not to mention her
home and the freedom to use her magic without consequence. But she finally
feels as if she has found a place to at least rest—that is if she can remain
hidden.
When
a mysterious illness befalls his clan, taking many lives, Rob Mackenzie finally
goes to check on the person squatting in the cottage on his family’s land. He
hopes to find help. He doesn’t expect the most enchanting and enigmatic woman
he’s ever seen or the way she makes him feel—the passions she rouses. But it’s
clear she has secrets, and earning her trust may be the toughest battle of his
life.
When
the truth comes to light that a witch has been targeting the Mackenzie clan,
Elin can’t remain sequestered. She knows she can help, and some things are more
important—especially when they include saving the man she has quickly come to
love. But it means revealing her secret to him and those who
have hunted her kind for eons. Those who see anything they don’t understand as
evil. Still, Elin hasn’t been able to safeguard those she’s loved in the past.
She has to at least try to save Rob and his family.
Even
if it means her end.
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Kindred: The Fated #1
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Elin inhaled deeply as
she lifted her face to the morning sun. She smiled and looked around at the
glen. She had attempted to make other places her home before she found this
one, but none had worked out. She felt a soft pang in her heart when she
thought of the island she had found before. She had loved it there, but her
past had caught up with her all too soon.
Now, Elin was nestled
deep in the Scottish Highlands, far from anyone. It was a full day’s walk to
the nearest village and castle, and she kept far from it. Everything she needed
was around her. She’d made sure of that.
She looked down at the
bow in her hand and smiled ruefully. The first time she had tried to fire the
weapon, it had been disastrous. Though she kept at it until she became
proficient. It had been over a year since she’d used magic, and only then
because she hadn’t been able to fix the roof of the cottage herself.
Elin turned to look at
her home. When she came across the abandoned cottage, she had been desperate for
shelter from a brutal winter storm. Once the weather cleared, she finally got a
good look at the structure and found that it was in decent shape, other than
the roof. She’d tried to repair it herself, but she lacked the basic skills and
the knowledge. After a month of travel, she was exhausted. She wanted a place
to rest and needed somewhere to relax. The cottage had only been meant for a
brief respite during the winter, so she’d decided to use the spell to mend the
roof.
The cottage had proven
a good choice. The glen it was situated in offered the solace and isolation she
yearned for. She had been content here. Happier than she had been in some time.
Elin’s mood dampened as she thought of her island. So much of her life had been
spent hiding from the Coven. The band of witches had wanted to annihilate
anyone who stood in their way—and they’d nearly done just that. Elin had
thought she could set aside her past as a witch and lead a normal life. She’d
thought she could pretend that she didn’t have magic and get involved in a
community. She had been wrong.
So very, very wrong.
She gripped her bow and
adjusted the quiver of arrows on her back. Her gaze slid to the trees around
her. She thought of Asrail. The once-queen of the Gira had been her closest
friend. Elin didn’t know what had become of the tree nymphs since the battle
with the Coven. The Gira mostly kept to themselves. They looked like trees,
their skin and hair just like bark, so they disguised themselves in forests
where they could lure others with whispers.
The Gira were still out
there, but Elin hadn’t seen or heard any since the battle that had destroyed
the Coven. During that battle, Elin had joined a band of Witch Hunters and the
legendary Varroki warriors to defeat the Coven. That’s where she’d learned that
there were more than tree nymphs out there. There were snow and water nymphs,
as well.
The cry of a falcon
drew her attention skyward. Elin watched the bird through the branches of the
tree. She was free now—well, as free as she could be. She needed to remind
herself of that often. She wasn’t exactly hiding anymore, but she hadn’t made
herself known either. Not a bad compromise.
She had thought that
not using her magic would be all she needed to start fresh with a new life.
She’d learned the foolishness of that quickly enough. The Coven’s sweep across
Britain had left a lasting mark on everyone and everything. Those without magic
were wary of any newcomers. They were superstitious, bigoted. Disdainful of
anything they didn’t understand—as well as suspicious of anyone new.
Still, Elin had slowly
made friends on the beautiful island. Up until a little girl had become ill.
Many used herbs to help the sick, but she had been the newest member of the
community. So, when the child recovered fully after Elin’s help, they’d
immediately begun calling her a witch.
Which, she was.
Elin had tried to
ignore it, but the locals became increasingly hostile. In the end, she’d snuck
away during the night, thus beginning the six-month journey, moving around
until she’d stumbled upon her cottage. She liked it there. A lot. She didn’t
want to leave, but she knew it was only a matter of time before she would have
no other choice. Until then, however, she would enjoy her home.
Elin walked to the
river and knelt beside it. She put a hand in the cold water that ran off the
nearby mountains. The fish were plentiful, and she had become adept at catching
them. Between the fish and her use of the bow, she didn’t lack for meat. When
the temperatures began to warm, and the snow started to melt, she discovered
the array of greens and berries, as well. There was, in fact, no need for her
to go to the village. Although she had gone once.
They’d thought she was
a traveler, so no one paid her any heed when she bought what she needed and
returned to the cottage. Other than that one visit to the village, she hadn’t
encountered anyone. That wasn’t to say she hadn’t heard the voices of those
nearby. Fortunately, though, no one ventured her way.
Elin drank deeply from
the river before flicking water from her hand. Then she got to her feet and
turned to retrace her steps to the cottage. The nicker of a horse froze her in
her tracks. Her head whipped around to the ridge above, where a lone man sat
atop a steed.
She remained hidden
behind a tree. The figure was just a dark outline, too far away for her to see
where he looked, but she wasn’t going to take any chances. Her heart thudded in
her chest as she silently prayed he would move away. Seconds passed as she
waited for him to decide. The horse’s head bobbed up and down, seeming almost
as impatient as she for the man to ride away. Then, the animal began to walk
down to the glen.
“Nay,” Elin whispered.
She glanced at her
cottage. Smoke curled in a thin, gray ribbon from the chimney. She would never
make it inside without being seen by the rider, who was now headed straight for
her home. No one had bothered her in months. Why was he here? What did this man
want? Maybe if she remained hidden, he would leave, thinking he’d missed the
occupant.
Her gaze left him long
enough to sweep the area to see if there were more men, but it seemed to be
only him. She slid her gaze back to him. He rode past her, allowing her a
glimpse. His light brown hair was loose about his shoulders, with a strip of
leather holding back the top half from his face. His tartan was dark green,
navy blue, black, red, and white, and the sword strapped across his back wasn’t
there for show. She caught a glimpse of his boots. Worn but well made, proving
he wasn’t some peasant who held onto his family’s weapon.
He grasped the reins
loosely but confidently. The horse was well cared for and was, by all
appearances, a pricey steed. A person could tell a lot from how someone cared
for their animals. Her gaze lifted to the man’s face. She managed to get a
brief peek of his profile and saw that his gaze swept the area but returned
again and again to the cottage.
Elin knew the Mackenzie
clan controlled this land. Since the cottage had been abandoned, she had hoped
that no one would mind if she used it for a bit. The problem was, she hadn’t
moved on as she’d told herself she would—as she should have two months ago. The
area was beautiful, the game plentiful, and it was isolated. It had everything
she needed. Why couldn’t people just leave her alone?
The man pulled gently
on the reins to halt the animal as they reached the cottage. He didn’t ride up
to the door. Instead, he stopped with room enough to give him a good view of
the front and sides.
“Hello?” he called in a
deep voice.
Elin’s fingers dug into
the bark of the tree. She almost wished she was a Gira so she could disappear
against the bark and keep the man from finding her. No one would. But she
wasn’t a tree nymph. She was a witch. Her kind had been hunted for generations,
and it wouldn’t stop because people were afraid of anything they didn’t
understand. They never stopped to consider if she was doing good with her magic
or not. The simple fact that she had it was enough to condemn her.
The man swung his
muscular leg over the horse and dismounted quietly. He gave the animal a pat on
the side of the neck as he studied the cottage. The horse didn’t budge from its
spot.
“Anyone home?” he asked
louder.
Elin glanced around
her. She could make a run for it, but he would likely hear. The only option she
had was to remain hidden behind the tree and hope the man left quickly. All she
needed was enough time to gather her meager belongings and head out. The
thought made her heartsick, but what else could she do?
“I mean no harm.”
She could hear his
brogue now. Elin slipped slowly around the tree to hide herself better. If he
turned around, she didn’t want him to catch sight of her. She briefly thought
of using a spell to conceal herself, but she had sworn off any and all magic.
How could she live a normal life if she kept falling back to using her
abilities anytime things became difficult? She squeezed her eyes closed and
pressed her forehead against the bark.
She had gotten lax. Too
many months without anyone coming her way had given her the illusion that she
could live her life unbothered. She was beginning to think there wasn’t a place
for her anywhere.
And though she hated to
admit it, she understood why the Coven had fought for power. If they had won,
no witch would ever be hunted again. Her life would’ve been much different if
that had happened. She could’ve lived anywhere, done anything.
Now, she yearned for a
quiet life all to herself.
One she wouldn’t get.
She swallowed and peeked around the tree to see what her visitor was doing, but
she didn’t see him. All she saw was his horse, munching lazily on some grass.
Worry shot through her. She hastily scanned the cottage. The door was closed.
Wouldn’t he have left it open had he entered? Maybe he went around the back?
Off to the side? What about the other?
But everywhere she
looked, she came up empty.
“I hope you’re no’
hiding from me, lass.”
The voice behind her
startled Elin. Her heart jumped into her throat. She spun around, her foot
slipping between two roots as her ankle twisted in her rush to get away. She
felt herself falling. Her gaze locked with blue eyes, and her brain froze. She
waited to feel her back slam into the earth. Instead, a strong arm caught her
and held her steady.
“You were hiding,” he
said with a slight frown.
Elin jerked out of his
arms and backed away from him. His sword was still sheathed, but she had felt
the strength in him. He could draw it and have the blade at her throat in
seconds. Did she use her bow? No, he could knock it away easily enough. That
meant she had to resort to magic. No. No, she couldn’t. She had promised
herself that she was finished with it.
He held up his hands
before him. “Easy, lass.” He spoke as if he were talking to someone with an
addled mind.
She ignored him and
went through her options. She could run. She knew the area. But how far would
she get before he caught up with her on his horse? Too quickly for it to make a
difference. She needed him gone so she could sneak away. Again. Was that her
life now? Slinking away before they could come for her as they had her mother?
“I’m no’ going to harm
you,” he said slowly, calmly.
Elin almost laughed.
She wasn’t going to fall for that ploy. He might only be one man, but he could
still catch her.
Unless I use magic.
She clenched her teeth
as the idea resurfaced. Come what may, she would no longer use her knowledge of
herbs to help anyone but herself. And she certainly wouldn’t do magic.
Her mother had
sacrificed herself to save Elin and her sister. Avis was dead now, having
joined the Coven. Elin was on her own. As she had always been. As she always
would be.
The man’s blue eyes
were penetrating and entirely too intelligent. It was as if they had a light
all their own. He watched her, never taking his gaze from her face.
Instinctively, her magic rose, telling her that he wouldn’t harm her.
It was a gift her
mother had told her would protect her. It had saved Elin’s life on many
occasions. But that didn’t mean she would set aside the fear that clung to her
like a spider’s web.
“I’m Rob. Who might you
be?”
“Let me leave. Pretend
you never saw me,” she blurted then inwardly winced, wishing she had thought of
something better to say, something that would indeed convince him to leave her
alone.
His brows snapped
together. “A Sassenach?”
Elin glanced to the
side. She could make it to the river. It was deep there, but it was her only
chance.
Donna is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of over a hundred novels. Her most popular series is the breathtaking Dark King (aka Dragon King) series featuring dragons, immortal Highlanders, and the Fae.
In addition to her novels, Donna has written short stories, novellas, and novelettes for digital-first and print release. She has been dubbed as giving the “paranormal genre a burst of fresh air” by the San Francisco Book Review. Her work has been hailed as having “deft plotting and expert characterization” by Publisher’s Weekly and “sizzling” by RT Book Reviews.
She has been recognized with awards from both bookseller and reader contests including the National Reader’s Choice Award, Booksellers Best Award, as well as the coveted K.I.S.S. Award from RT Book Reviews.
https://donnagrant.com/
https://www.facebook.com/AuthorDonnaGrant/
https://www.instagram.com/dgauthor/
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