The Sword (Sons of Destiny, Book 1)
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The first novel of the Sons of Destiny...a romantic tale of magic, superstition, and a love that transcends dimensions.
Eight brothers, born in four sets of twins, two years apart to the day-they fulfill the Curse of Eight Prophecy. To avoid tempting their destiny, the brothers are exiled to Nightfall Island, a land where women are strictly forbidden. But, when the youngest of the mage-brothers rescues a woman from another universe, their world is altered forever.
Kelly Doyle had wanted to get away from the world. Threatened, attacked, and accused of witchcraft, Kelly had enough of her narrow-minded small town. And now she has somehow landed in another, magical dimension-the only woman in a realm inhabited by eight men who are desperately in need of a woman's touch.
into view. Without a concern in the world, without doing more than looking around at the underbrush cursorily, the man lifted up his shirt, unfastened his trousers, and relieved himself, balancing against the tree he was watering. Trevan waited until the other man was done, turning his head away from the less than civilized display. He might have a variety of animal shapes he liked to turn himself into, but he was as fastidious as a cat. He was also probably the cleanest of the brothers, next to
boats drawn onto the sand. The tide was now well out. Some of the sailors were clamming, digging mollusks from the bared tidal sands. The rest seemed to still be off exploring the immediate land. Their poorly dressed leader was sitting in the center boat, his back to the shoreline, drinking from a glass goblet that glinted in the sunlight and eating from a pristine white napkin spread out over his lap, without a care for the world. Trevan slipped out noiselessly from between the bushes and
the stained glass windows under the balcony area, was an actual dais. A platform that stood just high enough to place a seated head level with a standing one, and just big enough for the massive, carved chair to safely perch. Trevan—or someone—had been busy; the loveseat had been gilded over and pillowed with yet more of the pilfered aquamarine silk. Dominor stood next to that dais, talking with a woman clad in a violet and cream version of Kelly’s aquamarine clothes, which were currently still
Morganen was the most powerful mage among them. He could easily cast some sort of transportational spell without Saber noticing. And they were in Morganen’s tower, after all. “Morganen.” Saber held the eyes of his youngest brother, kindhearted but reckless, in his opinion. Dangerously reckless. “Send her back. Now.” “I cannot.” “I don’t care what you think you can or cannot do—” Saber broke off in frustration. Their siblings stood in the way, trapped awkwardly between the youngest and the
as she stared at the border of white marble and light, at the granite stone floor under her palms, the stone walls lined with glass-fronted stone shelves that were stuffed with books. She turned to look around her. At the sight of Morganen less than a body-length from her, she shrieked again, throwing herself back and away from the unexpected, too-close apparition, and scrambled to her feet. That made her stagger right into Saber. He caught her to keep both of them from being knocked over. She