All signs point to Davina being the witch of the catastrophic prophecy, but she’s not so sure.
Out Now! – The Witch of the Prophecy by Victoria Jayne
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Title: The Witch of the Prophecy
Author: Victoria Jayne
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Publisher: Young Ink Press
Length: 64,000 Words
Release Date: December 4, 2018
Divina’s had it with the prophecy.
The vampire whose heart beats for a witch that belongs to a wolf shall save us all. He shall take his throne and rule over all kinds. If not, the vampire who belongs to the witch will end all kinds.
Divina’s not convinced the prophecy is about her. Her manipulative vampire ex-boyfriend, Rori, is reluctant to give up his love for her to pursue the throne. Meanwhile, the wolf shifter meant to claim Divina doesn’t believe in the prophecy. However, he does believe Divina is his mate.
With the pressures of the prophecy and the most powerful coven in the present-day United States, Divina is left to choose between complying with the prophecy and mating with Aric—or leaving it all behind to allow the catastrophic possibility of supernatural beings getting exposed to humans.
Out in the middle of nowhere, with no clothes, and smelling the equivalent of filet mignon, his wolf had set him up well. Torn between the desire to investigate the fragrance, and maintaining human societal norms of modesty, Aric lingered under the cover of bushes and trees.
Metaphorical thunderbolts splintered before his eyes. Pain shot through his skull as he flew forward bracing himself on all fours. Aric’s hand reached to the back of his head protectively and to check for bleeding.
“What the fuck!?” he rumbled in confusion.
“Who are you?” a feminine voice demanded.
Lifting his chest, getting to his knees, Aric turned toward the sound of crunching leaves beneath shuffling feet. Blinking a few times did nothing to cure his double vision. He assumed he had a concussion. If he had been human, he’d be unconscious. The pain in his head throbbed while Aric struggled to see properly.
“W-wh-why are you naked?” the female voice questioned him.
Rising to his feet, Aric shifted his position, in an attempt to both hide the chubby semi-erection and to offer some modesty. It must have been interpreted as a sign of aggression.
Aric heard the whoosh and put his arm up to block the giant branch the female wielded as a weapon. The vibration of pain ricocheted up his forearm when it collided with the impromptu weapon. Aric howled and his eyes watered.
Aric twisted his wrist, wrapped his fingers around the branch, and yanked. It came loose from her hands quickly. He tossed the stick away and thanked his supernatural genes and the strength given to him by his wolf, who, oddly, pranced about within him with elation rather than recognizing the aggression the woman showed toward them.
“Wha—” she gasped.
Still unable to see her clearly, the blurry female form stepped back from him. Aric wobbled slightly and fell to his knees again for stability.
Once his vision slowly returned to normal, and in the glow of the moon, he gasped when he finally laid focused eyes on her visage. Her high cheekbones, plump lips, golden skin tone stunned him. His mouth fell open. The mass of dark waves pulled into a messy pony shimmered in the moonlight giving her a halo effect. Aric felt as if he knelt at the feet of a goddess.
She wore an extremely large, faded, hooded sweatshirt and tight jeans. Aric lifted himself to a standing position on shaky knees. He stood several inches over her at his full height. His wolf howled within him while he fought the wolf’s urge to grab the woman. It did nothing to ease the pounding pain in his head from her attack.
“You’re magnificent,” he murmured.
The unknown female took another step away from him.
“Uh, thanks?” she said.
Her pale blue eyes darted left and right, as though she searched for an escape route.
The throbbing pain in the back of his head dulled as he studied her. He absentmindedly raised a hand and rubbed at the place where she had struck him. The semi was now a full-on raging erection and proudly protruded from his pelvis as if to salute her.
Aric’s face heated when her eyes dipped to it. Her cheeks reddened. She held a hand over her mouth.
“Oh my God!” she gasped.
Her expression reflected panic. She bent her knees prepared to run. Her eyes sought the best escape route.
“No. Don’t,” Aric protested, surprising himself.
She paused. The female stared at him, bewildered.
He brought both his hands over his crotch. “Sorry.”
“Why are you naked?” she demanded a second time.
“Uh,” Aric stalled. For some reason, he didn’t think telling her he had just shifted from wolf to human form would be a good idea. Humans tended to freak out when confronted with creatures they thought were mythical. Plus, there was the whole death thing, if the council found out about a supernatural being outing himself to humans. They took that shit super serious. Aric liked his life. He liked it even more, having met this female.
“Pay attention,” she snapped. “You don’t need power, just Divina,” she spoke simply. “You don’t need the council seat, just your witch.”
Tightening his mouth into a firm line, Rori considered her words. The witches could be testing him. Through this manipulation, this appearance of Ines, they could be testing his resolve to sacrifice love for the throne, for the good of all kinds.
“If I do that then I will be the one to end us all,” he said, wary of Ines’ intentions.
Ines shook her head. “You have no desire to do such a thing,” she pointed out. “How could you end us if you don’t want to?”
She coughed again harder and longer this time. She looked at her hand and cursed before wiping it on the woolen blanket she held close around her.
“They are forcing you into a place you’re not meant to be, Roricus. You have to follow your heart, now that it beats. Don’t let the witches make you a puppet,” she said urgently.
He regarded her with a sideways glance. Her sickly form shivered under the blanket.
“What did they do to you?” he asked again.
With words in direct conflict with not only Esmine’s but Ines’ own words, Rori questioned her motive. Add her withering appearance, and it felt wrong.
With a tight-lipped frown Rori pondered his previous idea of her presence being a test by the Ember Witches; a test to his commitment to the throne. The more she talked, the more Rori felt the witches were pushing him toward the sacrifice.
She turned away from him. She tried to get up, but the witch lacked the strength and fell back down.
“Love, Roricus. Love is what you need to fight the prophecy,” she rasped.
Rori clenched his teeth. The manipulations needed to stop. His nostrils flared as his frustrations grew. The incessant games of the Ember Witches, of this witch, was enough to drive a lesser man crazy.
“They cast you out,” he surmised. “Did they strip you as well?” he asked.
She said nothing.
However, her trembling increased and the blanket slipped from her shoulder revealing her state of emaciation. She bowed her head and displayed just how thin her once lush red hair had become. She refused to lift it to him or, perhaps, she lacked the strength.
“Divina is to take your seat isn’t she?” Rori further concluded.
“You went against the witches knowing that it was your seat up for grabs,” Rori said.
He breathed in sharply with the belief he knew Ines’ true intentions. He closed his eyes, trying to push down the bloom of rage growing and spreading in his chest. When he opened them again, the world was tinged red.
“You are here to sabotage—”
Ines sprang up interrupting his words. The blanket fell to her feet and exposed her skeletal body with clothing dangling from her. Sores covered her gray skin. Her eyes lacked the shine and youth they had the first time she promised him power.
Cold radiated off her and crept over Rori’s skin.
“I went against my coven for what is right!” she hissed. “I went against my coven for love,” she declared. “For your love, for Percival’s love! For Divina and Selene!”
Her bony fingers gripped his forearms. The sharp digits dug into the muscular flesh of Rori’s arms, threatening to pierce through with a strength he didn’t realize she possessed. She shook as all her energy appeared concentrated on her hold on him.
“You are not fit for the council, Roricus,” she seethed. “You lack the age and the commitment. It is meant for Percival. The coven fears Selene’s devotion to her vampire.”
“You were the one who said I could have power,” Rori said through gritted teeth.
The chill forced its way through his body stemming from her hands wrapped around his arms.
“I lied,” she said. Releasing Rori’s arms she hung her head and shrunk back into her blanket. “I’m not proud of it. I did it for my coven. But, my coven is wrong.” She peered up at him with wide eyes. The fury gone from them, sadness took its place. “They can’t tamper with what is meant to be. And what is meant to be is you and Divina, your love,” she said as her voice cracked.
She took a deep breath, obviously tired from the energy it took to speak of such things in her weakened state.
“You can have love. You will, if you chose Divina. The throne is meant for Percival. The seat is meant for Selene. The coven wants to change that but they shouldn’t.” As she spoke, she collapsed into a heap between the two planters.
Crouching, Rori reached out for the arms of the witch. When he gripped her, she howled in pain. Rori held her frail limbs and shook her. The tortured woman wailed as the skin on her arms ripped in his hands.
He pulled back, letting her go. His eyes widened and his mouth fell open in horror seeing the bits of flesh stuck to his fingers and palms.
Rori flicked his attention to the pained witch. She crumbled flat to the floor.
“Go to your witch, Roricus. Chase your love. Don’t let them strip you too,” she sobbed.
The fruity fragrance of the potted primrose tangled with the hints of sweat and fresh sex. The pillows and duvet coiled into a heap on the bed. However, the couple responsible for the disheveled state was no longer there.
The glow from the moon shone through the large window, causing her ebony waves to shimmer, while he stroked his pale, slender fingers through her hair. He couldn’t recall another time in his life when he had felt as content as he did at that moment. His whole world was in this oversized chair.
Her plump body curved in just the right places; her olive-toned, bare form lounged across his much paler lap. As she flipped through the leather-bound text, Rori leaned in, burying his nose in her hair and inhaling deeply. He savored the raw scent of the woman who had captured his formerly still heart. He couldn’t help but smile.
Turning the page of the old leather-bound book, she read while resting her head against his chest. She was warmer than he was. She had far more life than he did. Perhaps his desire to possess her was something other than infatuation.
Pressing his lips to the top of her head, he didn’t care the cause; he only wished to have her.
How long had they sat there? How long had it been since he’d been inside her? How long had it been since she screamed his name?
Having lost the concept of time long ago, he found it worse when with her. When she shifted her position even slightly, the stimulus stirred his hunger for her again.
“I can’t believe this stuff is so hidden.” She broke through his thoughts.
He smiled. There was much about the world he wanted to show Divina before reality set in.
“Humans would not be able to handle such information.” He stroked her arm with his fingertips. “Or perhaps I should say, they didn’t, so we had to take it away and hide. The world would be a much more violent place if humans knew.”
With a furrowed brow, she turned her glacier-colored eyes that burned his soul, toward him. “You trust me?”
“You’re not fully human,” he reminded her, while playfully booping her nose before giving her a soft kiss on the forehead.
Her innocence drew him in like ants to sugar. He cherished her. These intimate moments with her were more valuable to him than any jewel or treasure.
“So you keep saying,” she grumbled, and once more shifted her hips, eliciting a groan from him.
He wondered if she knew how those full hips affected him.
Her smirk told him all he needed to know about that.
“In all my years, I have yet to be wrong,” he whispered in her ear.
Rolling her eyes before turning them back to the book, she sighed.
“I’m not sure I can handle the responsibility,” she admitted.
There: her vulnerability. Sure, she was mortal, therefore vulnerable. That wasn’t the vulnerability Rori liked. No, the uninhibited honesty she offered him showed her trust in him. How she offered him her true self without concern for self-preservation.
He loved her for it and hated himself for what he had to do with it.
Closing his own eyes, he took in a deep breath of her beautiful scent. Relishing the moment, he pushed the future from his mind.
In the end, the right now, would be all he had. There was no need to rush it. Right now could end at any moment, and he’d only have the memory to comfort him.
“You are so much stronger than you know, Divina. I will show you,” he said.
Those wide, innocent blue eyes pinned him once more. He hated the Ember Witches at that moment. He hated prophecies. He hated the world for what it was making him do.
“You’ve shown me so much already,” she said with wonder in her eyes.
He forced a smile on his face. “There is so much more.”
Three Years Later
Rori awoke from his daytime slumber with longing in his heart. Sometimes memories were the worst form of torture. When he let her go, he’d made peace with not having Divina.
Forced to walk away from her, avoiding her for three years, had helped in achieving that peace. With the prophecy set in motion, he no longer had that luxury. They sent him back to her.
Growing up on the Jersey Shore, Victoria was an insatiable reader. She adored getting lost in the worlds others created for her. During her early teen years she enjoyed the works of R.L. Stein and S.E. Hinton. As she got older, she drifted into the worlds provided for her by Anne Rice, Suzanne Wright, J.D. Tyler, Joanna Wylde, Cherise Sinclair, Dianne Duvall, and Elisabeth Naughton, to name a few. These writers spawned her love affair with both the romance genre and the world of the supernatural.
Victoria started writing as a hobby while still in high school. Now her days are spent writing, enjoying time with her husband, and her two children. She still lives in New Jersey. Victoria is a New Jersey Devils Hockey fan, an avid SecondLife Roleplayer, and a Netflix binge watcher.
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