Title: Stolen Moon
Series: Light Chronicles # 2
Author: Kimber Leigh Wheaton
Genre: Fantasy Romance
Publisher: Astraea Press
Cover by: AM Design Studios
Expected Date of Publishing: August 19, 2014
Ethan ~ a mercenary leader trapped between his growing attraction to Katarina and his responsibility to protect his friends from the evil pursuing her.
Zebulon ~ a malicious sorcerer waging war as though it's a game, caring nothing for the lives he destroys in his quest for power.
Drawn together by a moonstone medallion—an indestructible relic with immense magical power.
Katarina steals the medallion from Zebulon and flees in the dead of night. Together with Ethan and his mercenaries, she struggles to stay one step ahead of the sorcerer and his minions in a race against time to save her homeland. Fierce battles, ravenous monsters, and bloodthirsty brigands—those are no surprise. But Katarina never dreamed her greatest obstacle could be falling in love.
My heart wrenches when he's hit on the back of his head with a saber. He collapses to the deck unmoving. I race to his side, cutting down the three pirates surrounding him. Ignoring the battle raging all around me, I fall to my knees beside him. He stares up at me, sorrow marring his handsome features. I brush the hair from his forehead with my fingertips, watching the blood gush from the wound on his head. It's a fatal injury. He'll bleed out within moments.
"I'm so sorry, Katarina," he murmurs as I gaze into his stricken brown eyes. "I wish…I…"
"Shh, don't speak," I say, grasping his hand while his body shakes.
"S-stay strong," Harris whispers. "Don’t let… him catch you… save Tellain."
Harris knew? I gaze at him in silent question and he nods. He knew I was on the run from Zebulon the whole time. This man I thought a scoundrel could have made a fortune turning me in and now he’s dying in an attempt to protect me instead.
"How?" I ask around the lump in my throat.
"W-wanted pos… ter."
Coughs wrack his body. With a grunt of pain, he raises his hand and brushes a light caress across my cheek with his fingers, leaving a warm smear of blood behind. His eyes glaze over in death, and I close them with my fingertips, saying a quick prayer to War God Ramil.
I rise and return to the battle raging around me, shaking with an overwhelming combination of fright and fury. Captain Harris was the only skilled swordsman on this ship, with him gone… I steel my back along with my resolve. I’m the only thing standing between the pirates and my family now—they need me, the people of Tellain need me. This is no time for sorrow, regret, or dread.
When I bury my fear, rage-fueled adrenaline consumes me. Several stunned brigands fall under the wild, almost berserk swings of my sword. Intense anger gives me strength. I cut a swath through the pirates, leaving injured and dead men lying in my wake.
My sword pierces through the stomach of a small pirate standing near the cabin door. His muddy brown eyes meet mine, shock etched across his young face. My heart sinks. He's a boy, not more than twelve-years-old. We stare at each other, my sword still lodged in his torso. I watch the light in his eyes dim until they glaze over and roll backward. The young pirate writhes a bit on my sword before sliding off and collapsing to the ground, a tangle of lifeless limbs. I somehow manage to continue on, though my fury has faded to grief. The only thing that keeps me swinging my sword is years of intense training, duty so deeply ingrained it's become a part of me.