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Autor | Mensaje |
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Alba_Turunen Cazadora de dioses vikingos
Mensajes : 64135 Edad : 37 Localización : Toledo Empleo/Ocios : Archivera Humor : Muy feliz Inscripción : 31/03/2009
| Tema: Re: Lo que está por llegar Mar 3 Jun 2014 - 10:25 | |
| Kresley tiene que promocionar sus nuevas series porque los Inmortales tienen tanta fama que se venden por sí solos . Yo también dejé caer por ahí que no me gusta la actitud que está mostrando Kresley, porque lo considero un desprecio a sus fans, pero espero que todo esto no sea duradero y sólo una obligación de la editorial. SALUDOS _________________ El profesor de baile de la señorita Seymour de Eleanor Rigby
|
| | | Banshee Soy Cazadora y no quiero dejar de serlo
Mensajes : 45650 Edad : 47 Inscripción : 19/05/2008
| Tema: Re: Lo que está por llegar Mar 3 Jun 2014 - 12:13 | |
| Comprendo que tenga que promocionar sus nuevas series, pero lo que no me gusta es que aunque los inmortales - como dices - son muy conocidos, les esté dando de lado. _________________ "Sobreviví a través del infierno, no por mí, sino por ti. Si lo sabes, no lo dudes y por favor, salva mi vida. El desierto que atravesé sin ti estaba seco, así que por favor abrázame rápido. Sé que el mar sin ti solo será otro desierto" |
| | | Kasya Expulsada por bocazas ¡la orden era secreta!
Mensajes : 15591 Empleo/Ocios : Super pollo, pero de incognito Humor : Depende del día. Inscripción : 13/11/2012
| | | | ADRIANADEC Soy sonámbula: Escribo también dormida
Mensajes : 4844 Edad : 42 Inscripción : 16/10/2012
| | | | pricesa Cazadora en prácticas
Mensajes : 11824 Edad : 40 Localización : Tarragona.. Inscripción : 28/01/2010
| | | | Banshee Soy Cazadora y no quiero dejar de serlo
Mensajes : 45650 Edad : 47 Inscripción : 19/05/2008
| Tema: Re: Lo que está por llegar Miér 4 Jun 2014 - 12:04 | |
| Parece que escuchó nuestras quejas No creo que lo lea, me dejará con ganas de mas.Gracias por la info Adriana _________________ "Sobreviví a través del infierno, no por mí, sino por ti. Si lo sabes, no lo dudes y por favor, salva mi vida. El desierto que atravesé sin ti estaba seco, así que por favor abrázame rápido. Sé que el mar sin ti solo será otro desierto" |
| | | Alba_Turunen Cazadora de dioses vikingos
Mensajes : 64135 Edad : 37 Localización : Toledo Empleo/Ocios : Archivera Humor : Muy feliz Inscripción : 31/03/2009
| Tema: Re: Lo que está por llegar Miér 4 Jun 2014 - 13:14 | |
| _________________ El profesor de baile de la señorita Seymour de Eleanor Rigby
|
| | | eteline Celebrando una cena en tu honor
Mensajes : 7419 Edad : 49 Localización : Ciudad de Panamá Empleo/Ocios : Leer Mucho Humor : Alegre y Explosivo Inscripción : 20/09/2010
| Tema: Re: Lo que está por llegar Miér 4 Jun 2014 - 15:49 | |
| yo también vi que la Cole ya empezó a promocionar Dark Sky, confirmando la fecha de salida, pero estoy de acuerdo con mucho de lo que han dicho, claro que comprendo que ella y la editorial quieran meterle más mano a las nuevas series, pero nadie puede negar que sí están dejando un poco de lado a Los Inmortales y tras eso para poder obtener este adelanto del prologo y 1er capítulo debes inscribirte en su pagina web, no es que no quiera inscribirme, pues en su momento lo hice, pero no puede ser que cada vez que quieras un adelanto de uno de sus libros, tengas que registrarte en su pagina, eso no me parece tan logico, pero en fin, ya veremos qué pasa cuando salga el libro |
| | | crisnoega Buscadora de Dragones
Mensajes : 813 Edad : 55 Localización : GIJON Empleo/Ocios : EMPLEO: ADMINISTRATIVO. OCIO: Inscripción : 03/12/2010
| | | | Sasha ¡Llegó tu hora! Sacrificio en el volcán
Mensajes : 8667 Edad : 109 Localización : En el Santuario de Delfos Empleo/Ocios : Oráculo a tiempo parcial Humor : Bipolar: ahora sí, ahora no... Inscripción : 21/07/2009
| Tema: Re: Lo que está por llegar Vie 6 Jun 2014 - 20:08 | |
| Edit: Lo sabía, que lo sacaría cuando yo no estaba!! Después de stalkearla diariamente, esta mujer me cuela el extracto en mi ausencia. Bueno, al menos, hoy he podido pasarme y verlo. Maldita ley de Murphy!! Bueno, pues ya se puede leer el prólogo y el primer capi de Dark Skye. Lo acabo de ver en mi correo. Por fin sé el apellido de Thronos!! (Es Talos). |
| | | Nixie1612 Principiante
Mensajes : 19 Inscripción : 16/11/2013
| Tema: Re: Lo que está por llegar Vie 6 Jun 2014 - 21:03 | |
| yo lo acabo de leer, ha sido guau...por cierto Cole dijo que era el segundo libro más largo que había escrito, cual es el primero?el de declan? también a vuelto a decir que Nix aparecerá mucho en este libro, lo cual me encanta porque es mi personaje preferido, espero que saque más avances pronto... |
| | | pricesa Cazadora en prácticas
Mensajes : 11824 Edad : 40 Localización : Tarragona.. Inscripción : 28/01/2010
| Tema: Re: Lo que está por llegar Vie 6 Jun 2014 - 21:10 | |
| Creo que el de Lothaire fue el más largo, ¿verdad? Por cierto, donde se pueden leer los extractos? |
| | | ADRIANADEC Soy sonámbula: Escribo también dormida
Mensajes : 4844 Edad : 42 Inscripción : 16/10/2012
| Tema: Re: Lo que está por llegar Vie 6 Jun 2014 - 21:17 | |
| Acabo de ver el correo con el prólogo y el primer capi!!!! Qué emoción!!! Me pongo yaaaaa a leerlo!!! Edito: Ahhhhh , he leído el adelanto y está alucinante!!! Se me va a hacer eterna la espera hasta agosto,necesito leer cómo sigue!!! Aquí dejo el adelanto de Dark skye
- Spoiler:
DARK SKYE
Prologue
Deep within the Alps, mortal realm
roughly five centuries ago
Crawling along a meadow on her hands and knees, Lanthe scoured the
grass for berries or dandelions—anything to dull her hunger pangs
as her stomach seemed to gnaw on itself.
Her older sister, Sabine—or Ai-bee, as Lanthe called her—would soon
be back from the nearby human village, where she’d gone on a desperate
food run. Lanthe had wanted to accompany her, but Sabine said nine was
too young.
So Lanthe waited in this meadow, her favorite spot below the high
mountain abbey where she lived with Sabine and her parents. A fir-tree
forest surrounded the small clearing, and a placid lake reflected the
sky like a mirror. Her dress hem continually danced with swaying wildflowers.
Here, she could coax rabbits to share dandelions with her, naming the
creatures and talking to them. Other times, she’d spend hours lying in
the grass, gazing up at puffy white clouds to spot shapes.
But today was cloudless. Which was why she frowned when a shadow
passed over the sun.
She shielded her eyes to peer upward—and saw . . . wings. Deadly
wings. They belonged to a boy, one who looked as shocked as she was.
2 .
He was a Vrekener! An enemy to her kind.
As she scrambled to her feet, their eyes met. His had gone as wide as
hers. They stared, right up until the moment he flew headfirst into a tree.
Spell broken, she hiked up her dress and ran for her life. Before she’d
made the cover of forest, he dropped in front of her, spreading his wings.
She gasped, momentarily stunned by the sight of them. Vrekener
wings were jagged—more dragon than dove—with a tapering flare at
three points along the bottom. The flares farthest from the body on either
side were tipped with talons. Scary talons.
She whirled around to flee in the other direction, skirting the lake.
Though she was as fast as a fey, he again caught up with her, corralling her
with those wings. On the inside, they were gray, with lines of light forking
out all over them.
Lanthe and the boy stared at each other, his gaze flicking over her face.
Whatever he saw there made him exhale a sharp breath. Puh.
No use running. And no one would ever hear her scream. Her parents
were all the way up in the abbey, a pair of recluses. Would Sabine find
Lanthe’s mangled body down here?
Not if I use my sorcery. At the thought, she began to tremble. Lanthe
didn’t want to call on her powers. It seemed every time she did ended in
disaster. But she would against a Vrekener.
Even if he was the most handsome boy she’d ever imagined.
Looking to be a year or two older than she was, he had vivid gray eyes,
tanned skin, broad cheekbones, and sandy brown hair that tumbled over
his forehead and around his horns. Those jutting spikes were smooth and
silvery.
He had even, white teeth, with a pair of fangs! She had the mad urge to
tap one of those points with the pad of her forefinger—
“I smell magics on you,” the Vrekener said, narrowing those gray eyes.
“Are you a little Sorceri?”
There was no denying her species, so she raised her hands threateningly.
Power easily leapt to them, swirls of dazzling blue light sparkling in her
palms. “I am the Queen of Persuasion, a great and terrible sorceress,” she
.3
said in an ominous voice, even while fighting the urge to bite her fingernails.
“If you come any closer to me, Vrekener, I will be forced to hurt you.”
He didn’t seem bothered whatsoever by her show of sorcery. As if she
hadn’t spoken, he said, “Or maybe you’re a little lamb. From the sky, you
look like one, crawling around in a white frock and eating flowers.”
She drew her head back, sputtering, “Wh-what?” Was he jesting
with her?
Yes, his eyes gleamed with amusement. While she was fearing for her
life—and threatening his—he acted as if he’d just stumbled upon a new
playmate.
One he’d been longing for.
“What’s your name, sorceress?”
She was so startled she found herself saying, “Melanthe. Of the Deie
Sorceri family.”
He sounded out her name. “Mel-anth-ee.” Then he pressed his hand
over his chest. “I’m Thronos Talos, Prince of the Skye.” His tone was
filled with importance.
“Never heard of you,” she said, casting a glance over her shoulder
toward the abbey. If Sabine caught this boy here with Lanthe, her overprotective
big sister would kill him with her fantastical powers.
Lanthe didn’t like things to be killed, not even handsome Vrekeners.
As the Queen of Illusions, Sabine could make her victims see anything
she chose, changing the appearance of their surroundings. She could also
reach into a person’s mind, draw forth his worst nightmare, then present
it to him.
Unlike Lanthe, Sabine never hesitated to use her powers. . . .
“Is that where you live?” the Vrekener asked, interrupting her
thoughts. Was he following her gaze to the mountaintop?
“No! Not at all. We live far away from here. I walk leagues to get to this
meadow.”
“Really?” He clearly disbelieved her, but didn’t seem angered by her lie.
“Strange that I sense sorcery from that direction. Lots of it.”
Vrekeners tracked Sorceri by scent—and by power outlays. Lanthe
4 .
would have to get her parents to use more caution. Or try to. They were
consumed with creating ever more gold. “I don’t know what you mean.”
He let it go. “So what’s persuasion?”
She glanced down at her palms, startled to see how much sorcery she
wielded. Did she really mean to hurt him? He didn’t seem as threatening
anymore.
Pursing her lips, she called back her power. “I can make anyone do
anything I tell them to do. It’s called persuasion, but it should be called
commanding.”
Years ago, when she’d first used it, she’d crossly told Sabine to shut
her mouth. For an entire week, no one had understood why Sabine hadn’t
been able to open it. Her sister had almost starved.
“That sounds impressive, lamb. So you’re as powerful as you are
pretty?”
Her cheeks heated. He thought she was pretty? She gazed down at her
frayed dress. Though faded nearly white from repeated washing, it used
to have color. Sorceri loved color. Her feet were bare because she’d outgrown
her boots. She didn’t feel very pretty.
“I’m sure you get called beautiful all the time,” he said confidently.
No. She didn’t. She rarely encountered anyone besides her family. If
Sabine complimented her, she’d remark on Lanthe’s ability, not her looks.
And sometimes her parents didn’t seem to see her at all—
The boy started striding toward her.
“Wait, wh‑what are you doing?” She tripped back until she met a tree.
“Just making certain of something.” He leaned his face in close to her
hair, and then he . . . he scented her! When he drew back, he wore a cocky
grin, as if he’d just won a prize or discovered a new realm.
For some reason, that grin made her feel as if she’d run all the way up
the mountain. Her heart pounded, and she couldn’t seem to catch her
breath.
“You smell like sky. And home.” He said this as if it was significant—a
weighty and undeniable truth.
“What does that mean?” Gods, this boy confused her.
.5
“To me, you smell like no one else in the world ever has, or ever will.”
His gray irises glowed silver with emotion. A breeze ruffled his sandy
brown hair. “It means you and I are going to be best friends. When we
grow up, we’ll be . . . more.”
She focused on the words best friends, and ached with yearning. She’d
always wanted a friend! She loved Sabine, but her sister was twelve and
usually had grown-up stuff on her mind, like how to get warm clothing for
the coming winter, or enough food to feed four.
Lanthe supposed someone had to be concerned with those things—
since their parents were always preoccupied. When Lanthe had been a
baby, she’d called for Ai-bee over their own mother.
But Lanthe could never be best friends with a Vrekener, despite how
intriguing she found him. “You should go, Thronos Talos,” she said, just
as her stomach growled, embarrassing her and deepening his amusement.
“You might be a great and terrible sorceress, but you can’t eat sorcery,
can you?” He spread those spellbinding wings. “Will you stay here if I go
find food for you?”
“Why would you do that?”
His shoulders went back, his silvery eyes alight—as if with pride.
“That’s my job now, lamb.”
She sighed. “I don’t understand. We’re enemies. We’re not supposed to
be like”—she waved from herself to him—“this.”
He winked at her. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”
Four months later
Thronos . . . told.
And then Lanthe made him pay for it.
One
An island, somewhere in the Pacific Ocean
modern times
As Lanthe sprinted down a shaking, smoky tunnel, she focused on
her friends ahead: Carrow, a witch, and Carrow’s newly adopted
daughter, Ruby. The witch was holding the seven-year-old girl in her arms
as she ran headlong for an exit out of this godsforsaken maze.
Lanthe followed, gripping her sword with a gauntleted hand, her metal
claws digging into the handle. She tried to smile for Ruby, who was frowning
back at her.
Carrow—or Crow, as Ruby called her—and Lanthe had attempted to
turn their dire escape into a fun-filled adventure for her. Snarky and adorable
Ruby clearly wasn’t sold.
Charging into the tunnels had seemed like such a good idea at the time,
a way out of the Order prison they’d all been jailed in—and an escape
from other immortals. After tonight’s cataclysmic overthrow, Loreans
stalked the fiery halls, hunting for prey. Carrow’s estranged husband, who
might or might not be evil, hunted for her.
Another quake rocked the tunnel, grit raining down over Lanthe’s
black braids. Unfortunately, Lanthe had her own stalker—Thronos, a
crazed, winged warlord who’d been obsessed with capturing her for the
last five hundred years.
8 .
But Vrekeners feared enclosed spaces; anything underground was a
forbidding landscape, much less a failing tunnel. He’d never follow her
into this subterranean maze.
Explosions sounded somewhere in the distance, and the tunnel
rumbled. Seemed like such a good idea. She gazed up, saw the immense ceiling
supports bowed from strain. No wonder. New mountains were sprouting
from the earth all over this prison island, courtesy of Lanthe’s fellow
Sorceri.
A boulder dropped in her path, slowing her progress. Rock dust
wafted over her like a grainy curtain, spattering her face and Sorceri mask.
Carrow and Ruby grew indistinct in the haze. The two turned a corner,
out of sight.
As Lanthe increased her speed, she gave a frustrated yank on her
torque, a treat from the humans for all their immortal captives. The indestructible
collar prevented them from using their innate abilities, neutralizing
strength, endurance, and healing.
Some of the prisoners—all of the most evil ones—had had theirs removed
this night. Lanthe still wore one, which wasn’t fair, since few would
consider her “good.”
Without that torque, she would have been able to command stronger
beings to protect her and her friends. She would have been able to read an
opponent’s mind, run with supernatural speed, or create a portal to step
through—away from this island nightmare forever.
Away from Thronos.
Lanthe hiked up her metal breastplate—not ideal for running for one’s
life. Nor were her metal mesh skirt and thigh-high stiletto boots. Still she
sped forward, wishing her thoughts would stop returning to her age-old foe.
During their captivity, she’d had the shock of her life when guards had
dragged Thronos by their cell. He’d let himself be seized by the Order and
taken to her prison—Lanthe knew it. With malice in his eyes, he’d grated
to her, “Soon.”
When Carrow had asked about that, Lanthe had been sparing of the
details: “Would you believe that Thronos and I were childhood friends?”
.9
Later, Carrow had pressed, so Lanthe had admitted, “He’s broken
because of me. I ‘persuaded’ him to dive from a great height. And not to
use his wings.” Most of his skin had been slashed and scarred, the bones
of his wings and limbs fractured—before his immortality had taken hold,
before he could regenerate.
What more could Lanthe say? How to explain the bond she and
Thronos had shared? Until he’d betrayed her fragile trust . . .
Well, Carrow, Thronos led his clan to my family’s secret lair one night. His father
killed my parents, lopped their heads right off with a Vrekener fire scythe. My fierce
sister Sabine retaliated, taking the father’s life. When she was nearly murdered, I gave
Thronos wounds that would last an eternal lifetime, then left him to die.
Alas, since then, things have gone downhill.
“Air’s getting fresher!” Carrow called from somewhere ahead. “Almost
there!”
At last, the smoke was clearing. Which meant Lanthe needed to catch
up. Who knew what could be awaiting them out in the night? Thousands
of immortals had escaped.
Had this many enemies ever been so concentrated in one inescapable
place?
She readied her sword. A vague memory arose of holding her first one.
Mother had absently handed each of her daughters a golden sword, telling
them, “Never depend solely on your powers. If you and your sister want
to survive to adulthood, you’d best get handy with one of these. . . .”
Now Lanthe kept her weapon poised for—
Pain on her ankle?
Body reeling forward?
One second Lanthe had been sprinting; the next she was on her face,
sword tumbling in front of her. Something had her! Claws sank into her
ankle, piercing the leather of her boot. She screamed and thrashed, but it
hauled her back.
Ghoul? Demon? Wendigo? She stabbed her metal claws into the
ground, scrabbling for purchase, looking over her shoulder.
Her own nightmare.
10 .
Thronos.
His scarred face was bloodied, his towering body tensed. A maniacal
glint shone in his gray eyes as his wings unfurled—they seemed to flicker
in the dim tunnel. A trick of light.
The bastard had actually braved an underground shaft. Vrekeners never
abandon their hunt.
“Release me, you dick!” She kicked out with more force, but she was
no match for his strength. Wait, why didn’t he have a collar? Thronos
was akin to an angel, a warrior for right.
She knew he’d become a warlord. Had he turned evil over these
centuries?
“Let her go, Thronos!” Carrow yelled, charging. She’d parked Ruby
somewhere, returning to take on a Vrekener.
For Lanthe. I knew I liked that witch.
Before she could reach Lanthe, Thronos had used one of his wings to
send Carrow sprawling. The witch scrambled up again, drawing her own
sword.
Lanthe continued to thrash, filled with dread. Thronos was too strong;
like Lanthe, Carrow still had her collar.
When the witch charged again, a wing flashed out once more, but Carrow
anticipated the move, hunching down to slide under it. She shoved
her sword up, piercing the wing, leaving her weapon to hang like a giant
splinter.
He gave a yell, releasing Lanthe to pluck the sword free. Blood poured
from him, pooling in the gravel.
Carrow lunged for Lanthe, snaring her hand. Before she could get
Lanthe up and running, Thronos seized Lanthe’s leg again, wrenching her
back—but Carrow and Lanthe kept their hands locked.
It was a losing proposition. Ruby was vulnerable without Carrow. And
for all the grief, heartache, and pain Thronos and his kind had dished out
to Lanthe over the years, she didn’t believe he could murder her in cold
blood.
.11
She chanced another look back. No matter how much he’d looked like
he was about to.
His blood-splattered face was as grim as a reaper’s, his lips thinned, his
scars whitening. The age-old question arose: did he want to abduct her or
kill her? Or abduct her to torture then kill?
No, no, he couldn’t hurt her; Lanthe was his fated mate. Hurting her
would hurt him.
The tunnel quaked again. In the distance, Ruby called, “Crow!”
“Save Ruby!” Lanthe cried. Smoke thickened, rubble building around
them.
Carrow shook her head, digging in determinedly. “I’ll save you both.”
In a deafening rush, rocks began to tumble down from the ceiling, filling
the space between Carrow and Ruby.
Ruby screamed, “Crow! Where are you?”
Carrow screamed back, “I’m coming!”
“Save your girl!” Lanthe yanked her hand free, allowing Thronos to
haul her away. “I’ll be okay!”
Carrow’s stricken face disappeared as he dragged Lanthe into the
smoke.
After three weeks of imprisonment at the hands of vile humans,
Lanthe had been caught again—by something she hated even more than
mortals who enjoyed vivisecting their captives. “Let me go, Thronos!”
Her body lurched with each of his limping steps.
Almost at once, he veered into a smaller off-shoot tunnel that she
hadn’t seen when speeding past it.
“You’re going the wrong way!” She dug her metal claws in, raking furrows
into the ground. When a cloud of gravel erupted in front of her face,
she coughed up grit. “Damn it, Thronos, turn back!” Blood continued
to pour from his wing, leaving a trail beside Lanthe’s furrows. “We were
almost at an exit before!”
She and Carrow had been hoping to reach the shore. Now he seemed
to be ascending. Leave it to a Vrekener to make for the high ground.
12 .
“Centuries I’ve waited for this,” he grated, never loosening his viselike
grip around her ankle.
Another quake rocked the tunnel. When a boulder crashed down beside
her, she stopped clawing with her gauntlets, instead crying, “Faster,
idiot!”
As if she weighed nothing, he yanked her up from the ground and into
his arms in one fluid move. He’d grown taller than any Vrekener she’d
ever seen. He must be nearing seven feet in height, looming over her five
and a half feet. With his gaze boring into hers, he squeezed her against his
chest.
His hair—too light to be black, too dark to be brown—was streaked
with ash, the matte gray matching his eyes. But as he beheld her, his irises
turned to that brilliant silver—like lightning. Like his ghostly wings.
“Let me go!” she yelled, slashing at him with her claws.
He dropped her to her feet—just to shove her against the wall. With
his rigid body pressed against her, he leaned in, tilting his head creepily.
Was he going to kiss her? “Don’t you dare!” She moved to strike him
again, but he pinned her wrists above her head.
A heartbeat later, he took her mouth, dumbfounding her. He slanted
his lips more aggressively, burning away her shock.
She bit his bottom lip. He kept going. She bit harder.
He squeezed her wrists until she thought he would snap her bones.
She released him, and he finally drew back, smirking with bloody fangs.
“Now it begins.” With his free hand, he swiped his fingers over his
bloody mouth, then reached to smear her lips with crimson.
She jerked her head away. Dear gods, he’s been maddened.
Another quake; more rocks joined that huge boulder, blocking the way
they’d come.
“Just brilliant!” She was trapped with Thronos, her survival tied to his.
She gazed back at those rocks. Had her friends made it out alive?
Reading her worry, he sneered, “I’d be more concerned about your
fate.” She faced her enemy with dread. “Which has at last been sealed. . . .”
|
| | | tsu Diosa Atlante
Mensajes : 1358 Localización : mansion de la hermandad Inscripción : 16/07/2010
| | | | pricesa Cazadora en prácticas
Mensajes : 11824 Edad : 40 Localización : Tarragona.. Inscripción : 28/01/2010
| Tema: Re: Lo que está por llegar Vie 6 Jun 2014 - 23:39 | |
| - ADRIANADEC escribió:
Aquí dejo el adelanto de Dark skye
- Spoiler:
DARK SKYE
Prologue
Deep within the Alps, mortal realm
roughly five centuries ago
Crawling along a meadow on her hands and knees, Lanthe scoured the
grass for berries or dandelions—anything to dull her hunger pangs
as her stomach seemed to gnaw on itself.
Her older sister, Sabine—or Ai-bee, as Lanthe called her—would soon
be back from the nearby human village, where she’d gone on a desperate
food run. Lanthe had wanted to accompany her, but Sabine said nine was
too young.
So Lanthe waited in this meadow, her favorite spot below the high
mountain abbey where she lived with Sabine and her parents. A fir-tree
forest surrounded the small clearing, and a placid lake reflected the
sky like a mirror. Her dress hem continually danced with swaying wildflowers.
Here, she could coax rabbits to share dandelions with her, naming the
creatures and talking to them. Other times, she’d spend hours lying in
the grass, gazing up at puffy white clouds to spot shapes.
But today was cloudless. Which was why she frowned when a shadow
passed over the sun.
She shielded her eyes to peer upward—and saw . . . wings. Deadly
wings. They belonged to a boy, one who looked as shocked as she was.
2 .
He was a Vrekener! An enemy to her kind.
As she scrambled to her feet, their eyes met. His had gone as wide as
hers. They stared, right up until the moment he flew headfirst into a tree.
Spell broken, she hiked up her dress and ran for her life. Before she’d
made the cover of forest, he dropped in front of her, spreading his wings.
She gasped, momentarily stunned by the sight of them. Vrekener
wings were jagged—more dragon than dove—with a tapering flare at
three points along the bottom. The flares farthest from the body on either
side were tipped with talons. Scary talons.
She whirled around to flee in the other direction, skirting the lake.
Though she was as fast as a fey, he again caught up with her, corralling her
with those wings. On the inside, they were gray, with lines of light forking
out all over them.
Lanthe and the boy stared at each other, his gaze flicking over her face.
Whatever he saw there made him exhale a sharp breath. Puh.
No use running. And no one would ever hear her scream. Her parents
were all the way up in the abbey, a pair of recluses. Would Sabine find
Lanthe’s mangled body down here?
Not if I use my sorcery. At the thought, she began to tremble. Lanthe
didn’t want to call on her powers. It seemed every time she did ended in
disaster. But she would against a Vrekener.
Even if he was the most handsome boy she’d ever imagined.
Looking to be a year or two older than she was, he had vivid gray eyes,
tanned skin, broad cheekbones, and sandy brown hair that tumbled over
his forehead and around his horns. Those jutting spikes were smooth and
silvery.
He had even, white teeth, with a pair of fangs! She had the mad urge to
tap one of those points with the pad of her forefinger—
“I smell magics on you,” the Vrekener said, narrowing those gray eyes.
“Are you a little Sorceri?”
There was no denying her species, so she raised her hands threateningly.
Power easily leapt to them, swirls of dazzling blue light sparkling in her
palms. “I am the Queen of Persuasion, a great and terrible sorceress,” she
.3
said in an ominous voice, even while fighting the urge to bite her fingernails.
“If you come any closer to me, Vrekener, I will be forced to hurt you.”
He didn’t seem bothered whatsoever by her show of sorcery. As if she
hadn’t spoken, he said, “Or maybe you’re a little lamb. From the sky, you
look like one, crawling around in a white frock and eating flowers.”
She drew her head back, sputtering, “Wh-what?” Was he jesting
with her?
Yes, his eyes gleamed with amusement. While she was fearing for her
life—and threatening his—he acted as if he’d just stumbled upon a new
playmate.
One he’d been longing for.
“What’s your name, sorceress?”
She was so startled she found herself saying, “Melanthe. Of the Deie
Sorceri family.”
He sounded out her name. “Mel-anth-ee.” Then he pressed his hand
over his chest. “I’m Thronos Talos, Prince of the Skye.” His tone was
filled with importance.
“Never heard of you,” she said, casting a glance over her shoulder
toward the abbey. If Sabine caught this boy here with Lanthe, her overprotective
big sister would kill him with her fantastical powers.
Lanthe didn’t like things to be killed, not even handsome Vrekeners.
As the Queen of Illusions, Sabine could make her victims see anything
she chose, changing the appearance of their surroundings. She could also
reach into a person’s mind, draw forth his worst nightmare, then present
it to him.
Unlike Lanthe, Sabine never hesitated to use her powers. . . .
“Is that where you live?” the Vrekener asked, interrupting her
thoughts. Was he following her gaze to the mountaintop?
“No! Not at all. We live far away from here. I walk leagues to get to this
meadow.”
“Really?” He clearly disbelieved her, but didn’t seem angered by her lie.
“Strange that I sense sorcery from that direction. Lots of it.”
Vrekeners tracked Sorceri by scent—and by power outlays. Lanthe
4 .
would have to get her parents to use more caution. Or try to. They were
consumed with creating ever more gold. “I don’t know what you mean.”
He let it go. “So what’s persuasion?”
She glanced down at her palms, startled to see how much sorcery she
wielded. Did she really mean to hurt him? He didn’t seem as threatening
anymore.
Pursing her lips, she called back her power. “I can make anyone do
anything I tell them to do. It’s called persuasion, but it should be called
commanding.”
Years ago, when she’d first used it, she’d crossly told Sabine to shut
her mouth. For an entire week, no one had understood why Sabine hadn’t
been able to open it. Her sister had almost starved.
“That sounds impressive, lamb. So you’re as powerful as you are
pretty?”
Her cheeks heated. He thought she was pretty? She gazed down at her
frayed dress. Though faded nearly white from repeated washing, it used
to have color. Sorceri loved color. Her feet were bare because she’d outgrown
her boots. She didn’t feel very pretty.
“I’m sure you get called beautiful all the time,” he said confidently.
No. She didn’t. She rarely encountered anyone besides her family. If
Sabine complimented her, she’d remark on Lanthe’s ability, not her looks.
And sometimes her parents didn’t seem to see her at all—
The boy started striding toward her.
“Wait, wh‑what are you doing?” She tripped back until she met a tree.
“Just making certain of something.” He leaned his face in close to her
hair, and then he . . . he scented her! When he drew back, he wore a cocky
grin, as if he’d just won a prize or discovered a new realm.
For some reason, that grin made her feel as if she’d run all the way up
the mountain. Her heart pounded, and she couldn’t seem to catch her
breath.
“You smell like sky. And home.” He said this as if it was significant—a
weighty and undeniable truth.
“What does that mean?” Gods, this boy confused her.
.5
“To me, you smell like no one else in the world ever has, or ever will.”
His gray irises glowed silver with emotion. A breeze ruffled his sandy
brown hair. “It means you and I are going to be best friends. When we
grow up, we’ll be . . . more.”
She focused on the words best friends, and ached with yearning. She’d
always wanted a friend! She loved Sabine, but her sister was twelve and
usually had grown-up stuff on her mind, like how to get warm clothing for
the coming winter, or enough food to feed four.
Lanthe supposed someone had to be concerned with those things—
since their parents were always preoccupied. When Lanthe had been a
baby, she’d called for Ai-bee over their own mother.
But Lanthe could never be best friends with a Vrekener, despite how
intriguing she found him. “You should go, Thronos Talos,” she said, just
as her stomach growled, embarrassing her and deepening his amusement.
“You might be a great and terrible sorceress, but you can’t eat sorcery,
can you?” He spread those spellbinding wings. “Will you stay here if I go
find food for you?”
“Why would you do that?”
His shoulders went back, his silvery eyes alight—as if with pride.
“That’s my job now, lamb.”
She sighed. “I don’t understand. We’re enemies. We’re not supposed to
be like”—she waved from herself to him—“this.”
He winked at her. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”
Four months later
Thronos . . . told.
And then Lanthe made him pay for it.
One
An island, somewhere in the Pacific Ocean
modern times
As Lanthe sprinted down a shaking, smoky tunnel, she focused on
her friends ahead: Carrow, a witch, and Carrow’s newly adopted
daughter, Ruby. The witch was holding the seven-year-old girl in her arms
as she ran headlong for an exit out of this godsforsaken maze.
Lanthe followed, gripping her sword with a gauntleted hand, her metal
claws digging into the handle. She tried to smile for Ruby, who was frowning
back at her.
Carrow—or Crow, as Ruby called her—and Lanthe had attempted to
turn their dire escape into a fun-filled adventure for her. Snarky and adorable
Ruby clearly wasn’t sold.
Charging into the tunnels had seemed like such a good idea at the time,
a way out of the Order prison they’d all been jailed in—and an escape
from other immortals. After tonight’s cataclysmic overthrow, Loreans
stalked the fiery halls, hunting for prey. Carrow’s estranged husband, who
might or might not be evil, hunted for her.
Another quake rocked the tunnel, grit raining down over Lanthe’s
black braids. Unfortunately, Lanthe had her own stalker—Thronos, a
crazed, winged warlord who’d been obsessed with capturing her for the
last five hundred years.
8 .
But Vrekeners feared enclosed spaces; anything underground was a
forbidding landscape, much less a failing tunnel. He’d never follow her
into this subterranean maze.
Explosions sounded somewhere in the distance, and the tunnel
rumbled. Seemed like such a good idea. She gazed up, saw the immense ceiling
supports bowed from strain. No wonder. New mountains were sprouting
from the earth all over this prison island, courtesy of Lanthe’s fellow
Sorceri.
A boulder dropped in her path, slowing her progress. Rock dust
wafted over her like a grainy curtain, spattering her face and Sorceri mask.
Carrow and Ruby grew indistinct in the haze. The two turned a corner,
out of sight.
As Lanthe increased her speed, she gave a frustrated yank on her
torque, a treat from the humans for all their immortal captives. The indestructible
collar prevented them from using their innate abilities, neutralizing
strength, endurance, and healing.
Some of the prisoners—all of the most evil ones—had had theirs removed
this night. Lanthe still wore one, which wasn’t fair, since few would
consider her “good.”
Without that torque, she would have been able to command stronger
beings to protect her and her friends. She would have been able to read an
opponent’s mind, run with supernatural speed, or create a portal to step
through—away from this island nightmare forever.
Away from Thronos.
Lanthe hiked up her metal breastplate—not ideal for running for one’s
life. Nor were her metal mesh skirt and thigh-high stiletto boots. Still she
sped forward, wishing her thoughts would stop returning to her age-old foe.
During their captivity, she’d had the shock of her life when guards had
dragged Thronos by their cell. He’d let himself be seized by the Order and
taken to her prison—Lanthe knew it. With malice in his eyes, he’d grated
to her, “Soon.”
When Carrow had asked about that, Lanthe had been sparing of the
details: “Would you believe that Thronos and I were childhood friends?”
.9
Later, Carrow had pressed, so Lanthe had admitted, “He’s broken
because of me. I ‘persuaded’ him to dive from a great height. And not to
use his wings.” Most of his skin had been slashed and scarred, the bones
of his wings and limbs fractured—before his immortality had taken hold,
before he could regenerate.
What more could Lanthe say? How to explain the bond she and
Thronos had shared? Until he’d betrayed her fragile trust . . .
Well, Carrow, Thronos led his clan to my family’s secret lair one night. His father
killed my parents, lopped their heads right off with a Vrekener fire scythe. My fierce
sister Sabine retaliated, taking the father’s life. When she was nearly murdered, I gave
Thronos wounds that would last an eternal lifetime, then left him to die.
Alas, since then, things have gone downhill.
“Air’s getting fresher!” Carrow called from somewhere ahead. “Almost
there!”
At last, the smoke was clearing. Which meant Lanthe needed to catch
up. Who knew what could be awaiting them out in the night? Thousands
of immortals had escaped.
Had this many enemies ever been so concentrated in one inescapable
place?
She readied her sword. A vague memory arose of holding her first one.
Mother had absently handed each of her daughters a golden sword, telling
them, “Never depend solely on your powers. If you and your sister want
to survive to adulthood, you’d best get handy with one of these. . . .”
Now Lanthe kept her weapon poised for—
Pain on her ankle?
Body reeling forward?
One second Lanthe had been sprinting; the next she was on her face,
sword tumbling in front of her. Something had her! Claws sank into her
ankle, piercing the leather of her boot. She screamed and thrashed, but it
hauled her back.
Ghoul? Demon? Wendigo? She stabbed her metal claws into the
ground, scrabbling for purchase, looking over her shoulder.
Her own nightmare.
10 .
Thronos.
His scarred face was bloodied, his towering body tensed. A maniacal
glint shone in his gray eyes as his wings unfurled—they seemed to flicker
in the dim tunnel. A trick of light.
The bastard had actually braved an underground shaft. Vrekeners never
abandon their hunt.
“Release me, you dick!” She kicked out with more force, but she was
no match for his strength. Wait, why didn’t he have a collar? Thronos
was akin to an angel, a warrior for right.
She knew he’d become a warlord. Had he turned evil over these
centuries?
“Let her go, Thronos!” Carrow yelled, charging. She’d parked Ruby
somewhere, returning to take on a Vrekener.
For Lanthe. I knew I liked that witch.
Before she could reach Lanthe, Thronos had used one of his wings to
send Carrow sprawling. The witch scrambled up again, drawing her own
sword.
Lanthe continued to thrash, filled with dread. Thronos was too strong;
like Lanthe, Carrow still had her collar.
When the witch charged again, a wing flashed out once more, but Carrow
anticipated the move, hunching down to slide under it. She shoved
her sword up, piercing the wing, leaving her weapon to hang like a giant
splinter.
He gave a yell, releasing Lanthe to pluck the sword free. Blood poured
from him, pooling in the gravel.
Carrow lunged for Lanthe, snaring her hand. Before she could get
Lanthe up and running, Thronos seized Lanthe’s leg again, wrenching her
back—but Carrow and Lanthe kept their hands locked.
It was a losing proposition. Ruby was vulnerable without Carrow. And
for all the grief, heartache, and pain Thronos and his kind had dished out
to Lanthe over the years, she didn’t believe he could murder her in cold
blood.
.11
She chanced another look back. No matter how much he’d looked like
he was about to.
His blood-splattered face was as grim as a reaper’s, his lips thinned, his
scars whitening. The age-old question arose: did he want to abduct her or
kill her? Or abduct her to torture then kill?
No, no, he couldn’t hurt her; Lanthe was his fated mate. Hurting her
would hurt him.
The tunnel quaked again. In the distance, Ruby called, “Crow!”
“Save Ruby!” Lanthe cried. Smoke thickened, rubble building around
them.
Carrow shook her head, digging in determinedly. “I’ll save you both.”
In a deafening rush, rocks began to tumble down from the ceiling, filling
the space between Carrow and Ruby.
Ruby screamed, “Crow! Where are you?”
Carrow screamed back, “I’m coming!”
“Save your girl!” Lanthe yanked her hand free, allowing Thronos to
haul her away. “I’ll be okay!”
Carrow’s stricken face disappeared as he dragged Lanthe into the
smoke.
After three weeks of imprisonment at the hands of vile humans,
Lanthe had been caught again—by something she hated even more than
mortals who enjoyed vivisecting their captives. “Let me go, Thronos!”
Her body lurched with each of his limping steps.
Almost at once, he veered into a smaller off-shoot tunnel that she
hadn’t seen when speeding past it.
“You’re going the wrong way!” She dug her metal claws in, raking furrows
into the ground. When a cloud of gravel erupted in front of her face,
she coughed up grit. “Damn it, Thronos, turn back!” Blood continued
to pour from his wing, leaving a trail beside Lanthe’s furrows. “We were
almost at an exit before!”
She and Carrow had been hoping to reach the shore. Now he seemed
to be ascending. Leave it to a Vrekener to make for the high ground.
12 .
“Centuries I’ve waited for this,” he grated, never loosening his viselike
grip around her ankle.
Another quake rocked the tunnel. When a boulder crashed down beside
her, she stopped clawing with her gauntlets, instead crying, “Faster,
idiot!”
As if she weighed nothing, he yanked her up from the ground and into
his arms in one fluid move. He’d grown taller than any Vrekener she’d
ever seen. He must be nearing seven feet in height, looming over her five
and a half feet. With his gaze boring into hers, he squeezed her against his
chest.
His hair—too light to be black, too dark to be brown—was streaked
with ash, the matte gray matching his eyes. But as he beheld her, his irises
turned to that brilliant silver—like lightning. Like his ghostly wings.
“Let me go!” she yelled, slashing at him with her claws.
He dropped her to her feet—just to shove her against the wall. With
his rigid body pressed against her, he leaned in, tilting his head creepily.
Was he going to kiss her? “Don’t you dare!” She moved to strike him
again, but he pinned her wrists above her head.
A heartbeat later, he took her mouth, dumbfounding her. He slanted
his lips more aggressively, burning away her shock.
She bit his bottom lip. He kept going. She bit harder.
He squeezed her wrists until she thought he would snap her bones.
She released him, and he finally drew back, smirking with bloody fangs.
“Now it begins.” With his free hand, he swiped his fingers over his
bloody mouth, then reached to smear her lips with crimson.
She jerked her head away. Dear gods, he’s been maddened.
Another quake; more rocks joined that huge boulder, blocking the way
they’d come.
“Just brilliant!” She was trapped with Thronos, her survival tied to his.
She gazed back at those rocks. Had her friends made it out alive?
Reading her worry, he sneered, “I’d be more concerned about your
fate.” She faced her enemy with dread. “Which has at last been sealed. . . .”
Guapa, muchas gracias!! Me ha encantado. Presiento que será uno de mis favoritos , siempre y cuando Lanthe no se parece en nada a su hermana. Por cierto: - Spoiler:
Creo que hay más aquí, estoy segura de que él no la traicionó, algo había pasado y tengo ganas de saberlo ya..
|
| | | ADRIANADEC Soy sonámbula: Escribo también dormida
Mensajes : 4844 Edad : 42 Inscripción : 16/10/2012
| Tema: Re: Lo que está por llegar Sáb 7 Jun 2014 - 2:39 | |
| Les dejo la traducción del adelanto!!! - Spoiler:
Cielo Oscuro
Prólogo En lo profundo de los Alpes, reino de los mortales Hace aproximadamente cinco siglos.
Arrastrándose a lo largo de un prado en sus manos y rodillas, Lanthe recorrió la hierba, bayas y dientes de león -nada para calmar sus dolores de hambre, su estómago parecía roerse a sí mismo. Su hermana mayor, Sabine o Ai-bee, como Lanthe la llamaba-no tardaría en estar de vuelta de la aldea humana cercana, donde había ido en una desesperada búsqueda de los alimentos. Lanthe había querido acompañarla, pero Sabine dijo que con nueve años era demasiado joven. Así Lanthe esperaba en este prado, su lugar favorito de la Abadía de la montaña donde vivía con Sabine y sus padres. Un bosque de abetos rodeaba el pequeño claro, y un plácido lago reflejaba el cielo como un espejo. Su vestido con dobladillos bailaba continuamente con flores silvestres mientras se mecen. Aquí, ella podría convencer a los conejos a compartir los dientes de león con ella, nombrando a las criaturas y hablar con ellas. Otras veces, ella pasaba horas tumbada en la la hierba, mirando a las nubes blancas hinchadas buscando detectar formas. Pero hoy el día estaba despejado. Razón por la cual ella frunció el ceño cuando una sombra pasó sobre el sol. Ella se protegió los ojos para mirar hacia arriba y vio. . . alas . Mortales alas. Pertenecían a un niño, alguien que parecía tan sorprendido como ella. Era un Vrekener! Un enemigo de su especie. Cuando ella se puso de pie, sus ojos se encontraron. Se habían ampliado tanto como los de ella. Se miraron, justo hasta el momento en que voló de cabeza en un árbol. El hechizo se rompió, ella se subió el vestido y corrió por su vida. Antes de que ella llegara a la entrada del bosque, él cayó delante de ella, extendiendo sus alas. Ella se quedó sin aliento, momentáneamente aturdida por la vista de ellas. Las alas del Vrekener eran irregulares de dragón ,más de paloma con una llamarada que se estrechaba en tres puntos a lo largo de la parte inferior. Las llamaradas más alejadas del cuerpo a ambos lados se inclinaban con garras. Garras de miedo. Ella se dio la vuelta para huir en dirección contraria, bordeando el lago.
Aunque ella era tan rápida como un hada, de nuevo se encontró con ella, acorralandola con esas alas. En el interior, que eran de color gris, con líneas de luz de algún tipo sobre ellas. Lanthe y el chico se miraron fijamente, su mirada agitada sobre su cara. Lo que vio allí le hizo exhalar un suspiro agudo. Puh. No serviría correr. Y nadie la oiría gritar. Sus padres estaban lejos en la abadía,como un par de reclusos. Encontraría Sabine el cuerpo de Lanthe destrozado aquí abajo? No si uso mi magia. Con ese pensamiento, ella comenzó a temblar. Lanthe no quiso hacer un llamado a sus poderes. Parecía que cada vez que ella lo hacía, terminaba en desastre. Pero lo haría contra un Vrekener. Incluso si él era el chico más guapo que jamás había imaginado. Mirándolo debía ser un año o dos mayor que ella, tenía los ojos grises vivos, piel bronceada, pómulos anchos, y el cabello castaño claro que le caía sobre la frente y alrededor de sus cuernos. Esos picos que sobresalían eran lisos y plateados. Tenía incluso, dientes blancos, con un par de colmillos! Tuvo el impulso loco de tocar uno de esos puntos con la yema de su dedo índice- "Huelo magia en ti", dijo el Vrekener, entrecerrando los ojos grises. "¿Eres una pequeña herchicera?" No se podía negar su especie, por lo que levantó las manos amenazadoramente. Potencia fácilmente saltó a ellas, los remolinos de luz deslumbrante azul espumoso en su palmas. "Yo soy la Reina de la persuasión, una gran y terrible hechicera", dijo en una voz siniestra, incluso mientras luchaba contra el impulso de morderse las uñas. "Si te acercas más a mí, Vrekener, me veré obligada a hacerte daño." Él no parecía importarle en absoluto r su espectáculo de magia. Como si ella no hubiera hablado, dijo, "O tal vez eres un corderito. Desde el cielo, lo parecías, arrastrándote con un vestido blanco y comiendote las flores ". Levantó la cabeza hacia atrás, paralizada en caos, "¿Q-qué?" Estaba bromeando con ella? Sí, sus ojos brillaban con diversión. Mientras ella estaba temiendo por su vida y se sentía amenazada,él actuaba como si acabara de tropezar con una nueva compañera de juegos. Una que había estado esperando. "¿Cómo te llamas, bruja?" Ella estaba tan sorprendida que se encontró diciendo, "Melanthe. De la Deie de la Familia Sorceri ". El articuló su nombre. "Mel-anth-ee". Entonces él le apretó la mano sobre su pecho. "Soy Thronos Talos, Príncipe de Skye." Su tono era lleno de importancia. "Nunca he oído hablar de ti," dijo ella, echando un vistazo por encima del hombro hacia la abadía. Si Sabine atrapaba a este chico aquí con Lanthe, su sobre protectora hermana mayor lo mataría con sus poderes fantásticos. A Lanthe no le gustaba que las cosas fueran sacrificadas, ni siquiera a Vrekeners guapos. Como la Reina de las Ilusiones, Sabine podría hacer que sus víctimas vieron solamente lo que ella elegía, cambiar la apariencia de su entorno. Ella también podía llegar a la mente de una persona, hacer surgir su peor pesadilla, entonces se la mostraba. A diferencia de Lanthe, Sabine nunca dudó en utilizar sus poderes. . . . "¿Allí es en donde vives?", Preguntó el Vrekener, interrumpiendo sus pensamientos. ¿Estaba siguiendo la mirada hacia la cima de la montaña? "¡No! No, en absoluto. Vivimos muy lejos de aquí. Camino kilómetros para llegar a esta pradera ". "¿En serio?" Él claramente no le creyó, pero no parecía enojado por su mentira. "Es extraño que tenga la sensación de magia de esa dirección. Mucha de ella ". Los Vrekeners rastreaban a las Sorceri por el olor y por el poder que desencadenaban. Lanthe tendría que decir a sus padres que fueran más cautelosos. O tratar. Estaban consumidos por la creación de cada vez más oro. "No sé lo que quieres decir." Él lo dejó pasar. "¿Y qué es la persuasión?" Ella miró las palmas de sus manos, sorprendida al ver la cantidad de brujería que había ejercido. ¿De verdad quería hacerle daño? No parecía ya tan amenazante Frunciendo los labios, ella llamó a su poder. "Puedo hacer que cualquier persona haga lo que le ordene hacer. Se llama persuasión, pero debería ser llamado Al mando ". Hace años, cuando por primera vez lo había usado, ella enfadada le dijo a Sabine que cerrara su boca. Durante toda una semana, nadie había entendido por qué Sabine no había sido capaz de abrirla. Su hermana casi había muerto de hambre. "Eso suena impresionante, cordero. Así que eres tan poderosa como eres de bonita? " Sus mejillas se calentaron. Pensaba que era bonita? Ella miró hacia abajo, su vestido raído. Aunque parecía casi blanco de repetidos lavados, casi no tenía color .Las Sorceri amaban el color. Iba descalza porque había dejado sus botas. Ella no se sentía muy bonita. "Estoy seguro de que te llaman hermosa todo el tiempo", dijo con confianza. No. no lo hacían. Rara vez se encontró con alguien además de su familia. Si Sabine la felicitaba, ella comentaba sobre la capacidad de Lanthe, no de su apariencia. Y a veces sus padres no parecían verla en absoluto- El muchacho comenzó a dar zancadas hacia ella. "Espera, Qu--¿qué estás haciendo?" Ella tropezó hacia atrás hasta que se topó con un árbol.
"Sólo asegurándose de algo." Inclinó su rostro cerca de ella y su pelo, y luego él. . . él olió su perfume! Cuando él se retiró, llevaba una engreída sonrisa, como si acabara de ganar un premio o descubierto un nuevo reino. Por alguna razón, esa sonrisa la hizo sentir como si hubiera corrido todo el camino hasta la montaña. El corazón le latía con fuerza, y ella no era capaz de recuperar el aliento. "Hueles como el cielo. Y a casa. "Lo dijo como si fuera una importante verdad y de peso innegable. "¿Qué significa eso?" Dioses, este muchacho la confundía. "Para mí, hueles como a nadie más en el mundo ha olido, ni nunca lo hará." Su iris grises brillaban de plata con la emoción. Una brisa le alborotó el arenoso cabello castaño. "Esto significa que tu y yo vamos a ser los mejores amigos. Cuando hayamos crecido, vamos a ser. . . más ". Ella se centró en las palabras mejores amigos, y le dolía de anhelo. Ella Siempre quise un amigo! Ella amaba a Sabine, pero su hermana tenía doce años y normalmente tenía cosas de adulta en su mente, como la forma de conseguir ropa de abrigo para la llegada del invierno, o suficiente comida para alimentar a cuatro. Lanthe suponía que alguien tenía que preocuparse por esas cosas- ya que sus padres siempre se preocuparon. Cuando Lanthe había sido un bebé, ella había llamado por Ai-bee sobre su propia madre. Pero Lanthe nunca podría ser la mejor amiga de un Vrekener, a pesar de lo intrigante que lo encontrara. "Tienes que irte, Thronos Talos," dijo ella, cuando su estómago gruñó, avergonzándola y profundizando la diversión de él. "Tu puedes ser una gran y terrible bruja, pero no se puede comer la hechicería, ¿verdad? "Él extendió esas alas fascinantes. "Te vas a quedar aquí mientras me voy a encontrar comida para tí? " "¿Por qué harías eso?" Sus hombros se volvieron, sus ojos plateados encendidos con orgullo. "Ese es mi trabajo ahora, cordero." Ella suspiró. "No lo entiendo. Somos enemigos. No se supone que debe ser como "-se señaló a sí misma y a él -" esto ". Le guiñó un ojo. "No voy a decir nada si tú no lo haces."
Cuatro meses más tarde
Thronos. . . dijo
Y luego Lanthe le hizo pagar por ello.
Uno
Una isla, en algún lugar del Océano Pacífico Tiempos modernos
Mientras Lanthe corría temblorosa, en un túnel lleno de humo, se centró en sus amigas por delante: Carrow, una bruja, y su recién adoptada hija, Ruby. La bruja estaba sosteniendo la niña de siete años de edad, en sus brazos mientras corría precipitadamente hacia una salida de este laberinto godsforsaken. Lanthe las seguía, agarrando su espada con una mano enguantada, con sus metálicas garras excavando en el mango. Ella trató de sonreír a Ruby, quien tenía el ceño fruncido a su vez. Carrow-o Crow, como Ruby la llamaba-y Lanthe habían intentado convertir su huida desesperada en una aventura llena de diversión para ella. Divertida y adorable. Rubí claramenteno no se lo compró. Escapar por los túneles había parecido una buena idea en el momento, una manera de salir de la prisión de la Orden donde todos habían sido encarcelados,junto a otros inmortales. Tras el derrocamiento cataclísmico de esta noche, los Loreans acechaban por los pasillos de fuego, a la caza de presas. El Ex esposo de Carrow, que podía o no ser malvado, la perseguía a ella . Otro sismo sacudió el túnel, arenilla llueve sobre las trenzas negras de Lanthe . Desafortunadamente, Lanthe tenía su propio Acosador-Thronos, un enloquecido señor de la guerra, con alas que había estado obsesionado con la captura de ella por los últimos quinientos años. Pero los Vrekeners temían a los espacios cerrados; lo subterráneo estaba descartado como escape, mucho menos un túnel en su defecto. Nunca la seguiría en este laberinto subterráneo. Las explosiones sonaban a lo lejos, y el túnel retumbó. Parecía una buena idea. Ella levantó la vista, vio el inmenso techo que se inclinada. No es de extrañar. Nuevas montañas estaban brotando de la tierra en toda esta isla prisión, cortesía de las compañeras Sorceri de Lanthe. Una roca cayó en su camino, frenando su progreso. Polvo de la roca flotaba sobre ella como una cortina granulada, salpicando su rostro y su máscara Sorceri. Carrow y Ruby se mezclaron en la bruma. Las dos se perdieron en una esquina, fuera de la vista. Mientras Lanthe aumentaba su velocidad, le dio un tirón de frustración a su Torque , un regalo de los seres humanos para todos sus cautivos inmortales. El indestructible collar les impedía el uso de sus habilidades innatas, neutralizando la fuerza, resistencia, y la curación. Algunos de los presos-todos los más malvados –se habían quitado los suyos esta noche. Lanthe aún llevaba uno, lo que no era justo, ya que pocos la considerarián "buena". Sin ese torque, ella habría sido capaz de imponer a fuertes seres para protegerlas a ella y a sus amigos. Ella habría sido capaz de leer en la mente de su oponente, correr con velocidad sobrenatural, o crear un portal para cruzar, lejos de esta pesadilla isla para siempre. Lejos de Thronos. Lanthe se subió su coraza de metal-no es ideal para correr por la propia vida. Tampoco eran la falda de malla de metal y botas de tacón de aguja hasta el muslo. Aún así, ella aceleró hacia adelante, deseando que sus pensamientos dejaran de regresar a su enemigo ancestral. Durante su cautiverio, había tenido el susto de su vida cuando los guardias traían arrastrando a Thronos por su celda. Se había dejado capturar por la Orden y llevar a prisión-Lanthe sabía. Con malicia en sus ojos, la había mirado a ella y dicho, "Pronto". Cuando Carrow había preguntado acerca de eso, Lanthe había sido parca en los detalles: "¿Creerías que Thronos y yo éramos amigos de la infancia?" Más tarde, Carrow había presionado, por lo Lanthe había admitido: "Él está roto por mi culpa. Yo lo persuadí a bucear desde una gran altura. Y que no usara sus alas. "La mayor parte de su piel había sido acuchillada y con cicatrices, los huesos de sus alas y extremidades fracturadas-antes de su inmortalidad, antes de que pudiera regenerarse. ¿Qué más podría decir Lanthe? ¿Cómo explicar el vínculo que ella y Thronos habían compartido? Hasta que él había traicionado su frágil confianza. . . Bueno, Carrow, Thronos lideró a su clan a la guarida secreta de mi familia una noche. Su padre mató a mis padres, cortando sus cabezas con una guadaña de fuego Vrekener. Mi feroz hermana Sabine tomó represalias, tomando la vida del padre. Cuando ella fue casi asesinada, le di a Thronos heridas que durarían por el curso de su vida eterna, entonces lo dejé para morir. Por desgracia, desde entonces, las cosas han ido cuesta abajo. "Aire fresco!" Carrow llamó desde algún lugar más adelante. "Casi estamos allí! " Por fin, el humo se despejaba. Lo que significaba que Lanthe tenía que seguir arriba. ¿Quién sabía lo que les esperaba en la noche? Miles de inmortales se habían escapado. Habían habido alguna vez tantos enemigos concentrados en un lugar sin escape? Ella preparó su espada. Un vago recuerdo surgió de su primer celebración. Madre había entregado distraídamente a cada una de sus hijas una espada de oro, diciéndoles, "Nunca dependan únicamente de sus poderes. Si tú y tu hermana quieren sobrevivir hasta la edad adulta, será mejor ser hábil con una de estas. . . . " Ahora Lanthe mantuvo su arma preparada para- Un dolor en el tobillo? Su suerpo tambaleándose hacia adelante? En un segundo Lanthe estaba corriendo; el siguiente estaba cayendo sobre su rostro, la espada cayendo delante de ella. Algo la tenía! Garras se hundieron en su tobillo, perforando la piel de su bota. Ella gritó y pateó, pero tiró de ella hacia atrás. Ghoul? Demonio? Wendigo? Ella clavó sus garras metálicas en el suelo, escarbando para avanzar, mirando sobre su hombro. Su propia pesadilla. Thronos. Su rostro lleno de cicatrices estaba ensangrentado, su cuerpo se tensó imponente. Un maníaco destello brilló en sus ojos grises y las alas desplegadas-parecían parpadear bajo la tenue luz del túnel. Un truco de la luz. El hijo de puta realmente había enfrentado un túnel subterráneo. Los Vrekeners nunca abandonan su caza. "Suéltame, imbécil!" Pateó con más fuerza, pero no era rival para su fuerza. Espera, ¿por qué no tenía un collar? Thronos era semejante a un ángel, un guerrero del bien. Ella sabía que él se había convertido en un señor de la guerra. ¿Se había vuelto malo durante éstos siglos? "Déjala ir, Thronos!" Carrow gritó. Ella había dejado a Rubí en algún lugar, para volver a hacer frente al Vrekener. Por Lanthe. Yo sabía que me gustaba esa bruja. Antes de que pudiera llegar a Lanthe, Thronos había utilizado una de sus alas para enviar Carrow en retirada. La bruja trepó de nuevo, atrayendo su propia espada. Lanthe continuó movimiento las piernas, llena de pavor. Thronos era demasiado fuerte; como Lanthe, Carrow todavía tenía su collar. Cuando la bruja volvió a la carga, un ala brilló una vez más, pero Carrow anticipado el movimiento, encorvada hacia abajo para deslizarse por debajo de ella. Empujó su espada, perforando su costado, dejando su arma colgadacomo una gigante astilla. Dio un grito, liberando a Lanthe para arrancar la espada y liberarse. La sangre se derramaba de él sobre la grava. Carrow se abalanzó sobre Lanthe, atrapando su mano. Antes de que pudiera llegar a ella, Thronos agarró la pierna de Lanthe, tirando de ella de nuevo pero Carrow y Lanthe mantuvieron sus manos bloqueadas. Era un caso perdido. Ruby era vulnerable sin Carrow. Y por todo el dolor, la angustia Thronos y los suyos habían seguido a Lanthe a lo largo de los años y ella no creía que podía matarla a sangre fría. Ella se arriesgó a mirar hacia atrás. No tenía importancia cómo la había mirado salvo lo que estaba a punto de hacer.Su rostro salpicado de sangre era tan sombrío como la de un segador, sus labios delgados, sus cicatrices blanqueadas. La vieja pregunta sería: ¿quería secuestrarla o matarla? O secuestrarla para torturarla y luego matarla? No, no, no podía hacerle daño; Lanthe era su compañera predestinada. Lastimarla sería hacerse daño. El túnel se estremeció de nuevo. A lo lejos, Ruby llamó, "Crow" "Cuida a Rubí!" Gritó Lanthe. El humo se espesó, escombros de construcción en torno a ellas. Carrow negó con la cabeza, con determinación. "Voy a salvarte también." En una ráfaga ensordecedora, rocas comenzaron a caer desde el techo, llenando el espacio entre Carrow y Ruby. Rubí gritó, "Crow! ¿Dónde estás? " Carrow gritó de nuevo: "Yo voy!" "Cuida a tu chica!" Lanthe tiró de su mano libre, lo que permitió a Thronos arrastrarla lejos. "Voy a estar bien!" El rostro afligido de Carrow desapareció mientras arrastraba a Lanthe en el humo. Después de tres semanas de encarcelamiento a manos de los viles seres humano Lanthe había sido capturada de nuevo por algo que ella odiaba aún más que los mortales que disfrutaban de la vivisección a sus cautivos. "Déjame ir, Thronos!" Su cuerpo se sacudió con cada uno de sus pasos cojeando. Casi al mismo tiempo, se desvió en una ramificación del túnel más pequeño que No había visto por el exceso de velocidad cuando pasó. "Vas por el camino equivocado!" Le clavó las garras de metal rastrillando surcos en el suelo. Cuando una nube de grava estalló en frente de su cara, ella escupió arena. "Maldita sea, Thronos, da marcha atrás!" Sangre continuaba vertiendo de su ala, dejando un rastro junto a los surcos de Lanthe. "Estábamos casi en una salida antes! " Ella y Carrow habían tenido la esperanza de llegar a la orilla. Ahora parecía ser ascendente. Deja a un Vrekener buscar por las zonas altas. "Siglos he esperado por esto", dijo, nunca aflojando su agarre alrededor de su tobillo. Otro sismo sacudió el túnel. Cuando una roca se estrelló a su lado, ella dejó de arañar con sus guanteletes, en lugar de llorar, "Más rápido, idiota! " Como si no pesara nada, él tiró de ella hacia arriba desde el suelo hacia sus brazos en un movimiento fluido. Había crecido más alto que cualquier Vrekener que ella había visto alguna vez. Él debe estar llegando a los siete pies de altura, que se cierne sobre sus cinco pies y medio. Con su mirada clavada en la de ella, él la apretó contra su pecho. Su cabello demasiado clara para ser negro, demasiado oscuro para ser de color marrón-estaba manchado con la ceniza, el mate gris a juego con los ojos. Pero a medida que ella lo contemplaba, sus iris se tornaron similares a la plata. Al igual que sus alas fantasmales. "Déjame ir!" Gritó, golpeando contra él con sus garras. Él la dejó caer a sus pies, sólo para empujarla contra la pared. Con el cuerpo rígido se apretó contra ella, inclinando la cabeza espeluznantemente. ¿Iba a besarla? "Ni se te ocurra!" Ella se movió para golpearlo de nuevo, pero él le sujetó las muñecas por encima de su cabeza. Un instante después, él tomó su boca, dejándola pasmada. Él se inclinaba sobre sus labios de manera más agresiva, derrumbando su conmoción. Ella le mordió el labio inferior. Él siguió su beso. Le mordió más fuerte. Apretó sus muñecas hasta que ella pensó que le iba a romper los huesos. El la dejó en libertad, y finalmente se retiró, sonriendo con los colmillos sangrientos. "Ahora comienza." Con su mano libre, él limpió sus dedos por encima de su boca ensangrentada, y luego llegó a manchar sus labios con carmín. Ella sacudió la cabeza. Por todos los dioses, ha enloquecido. Otro sismo; más rocas que se unieron a la enorme roca, bloqueando el camino por donde habían venido. "Simplemente genial!" Estaba atrapada con Thronos, su supervivencia ligada a la de él. Ella le devolvió la mirada a esas rocas. Lograrían sus amigos salir con vida? Leyendo su preocupación, se burló: "Yo estaría más preocupada por tu destino ". Ella enfrentó a su enemigo con pavor. "Lo que al fin se ha sellado. . . . "
Disculpen algún que otro error , suelo leer inglés pero no lo traduzco por escrito, pero quería compartirlo para las que no entienden el idioma y que todas podamos disfrutar de este pequeño bocado de Los inmortales Saludos |
| | | Nixie1612 Principiante
Mensajes : 19 Inscripción : 16/11/2013
| Tema: Re: Lo que está por llegar Sáb 7 Jun 2014 - 13:34 | |
| Gracias por la traducción, ya lo había hecho con el traductor google, pero esta claro que no se pueden comparar, la primera vez me resulto difícil entender algo de lo que ponía... |
| | | eteline Celebrando una cena en tu honor
Mensajes : 7419 Edad : 49 Localización : Ciudad de Panamá Empleo/Ocios : Leer Mucho Humor : Alegre y Explosivo Inscripción : 20/09/2010
| | | | Kattra Reina de los parajes intermedios
Mensajes : 66805 Edad : 45 Localización : en mi mundo Humor : voluble Inscripción : 31/03/2010
| Tema: Re: Lo que está por llegar Sáb 7 Jun 2014 - 15:48 | |
| Gracias por las novedades y gracias Adriana por la traducción. _________________ Miniharén de romántica: Vlad Tepesh - Vishous - Zsadist - Rhage - Illium - Malkom Slaine - Vane Kattalakis Miniharén de Ficción: Aragorn - Kvothe - Lestat de Lioncourt - Lobezno - Sean Kendrick - Gunnarr - Cuatro Mascota: K´Vruck |
| | | ADRIANADEC Soy sonámbula: Escribo también dormida
Mensajes : 4844 Edad : 42 Inscripción : 16/10/2012
| | | | Alba_Turunen Cazadora de dioses vikingos
Mensajes : 64135 Edad : 37 Localización : Toledo Empleo/Ocios : Archivera Humor : Muy feliz Inscripción : 31/03/2009
| Tema: Re: Lo que está por llegar Sáb 7 Jun 2014 - 21:45 | |
| Gracias por el extracto chicas , pero no quiero leerlo , seré paciente y no me spoileo. - Nixie1612 escribió:
- yo lo acabo de leer, ha sido guau...por cierto Cole dijo que era el segundo libro más largo que había escrito, cual es el primero?el de declan?
también a vuelto a decir que Nix aparecerá mucho en este libro, lo cual me encanta porque es mi personaje preferido, espero que saque más avances pronto... Sí, el libro de Lothaire fue el más largo, y luego creo que el de Declan y Regin (cada vez los hace más largos, pero yo encantada de la vida si los sigue escribiendo tan bien ) SALUDOS _________________ El profesor de baile de la señorita Seymour de Eleanor Rigby
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| | | Fantástica Buscando grupo de ayuda
Mensajes : 26861 Edad : 46 Localización : En medio del océano... Empleo/Ocios : Pensar y meditar... Humor : Raro, raro, raro... Inscripción : 21/12/2010
| | | | Kasya Expulsada por bocazas ¡la orden era secreta!
Mensajes : 15591 Empleo/Ocios : Super pollo, pero de incognito Humor : Depende del día. Inscripción : 13/11/2012
| | | | ADRIANADEC Soy sonámbula: Escribo también dormida
Mensajes : 4844 Edad : 42 Inscripción : 16/10/2012
| | | | Kasya Expulsada por bocazas ¡la orden era secreta!
Mensajes : 15591 Empleo/Ocios : Super pollo, pero de incognito Humor : Depende del día. Inscripción : 13/11/2012
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