Choose Me Read online

  Contents

  Copyright

  Dedications

  Chapter 1: A Painful End or a Painful Beginning?

  Chapter 2: Pleasure Slave

  Chapter 3: Impossible Choices

  Chapter 4: Cultural Differences

  Chapter 5: Welcome to Cosa

  Chapter 6: I Don’t Want to Be Just a Pretty Doll

  Chapter 7: Why Must You Deny Me?

  Chapter 8: All the Layers of Me

  Chapter 9: As We Fall Ever Deeper

  Chapter 10: Dark Memories

  Chapter 11: A New Perspective

  Chapter 12: A Breath of Fresh Air

  Chapter 13: Wait for Me

  Chapter 14: I Made My Choice

  Chapter 15: I’m Yours and You’re Mine

  About the Author

  Preview

  Copyright

  © 2017 Delmire Hart. All rights reserved. This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of international copyright law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. Any eBook format cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.

  This is a work of fiction. All resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  This ebook contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers.

  Please don't read if you are under eighteen.

  For inquiries please contact: [email protected]

  Dedications

  Massive hugs and my never-ending gratitude to Mara who helped take this story to the next level by pointing out all my inconsistencies and adding more coma’s than I want to count!

  One day I will nail consistent use of proper grammar. Until then, she saves my life ❤

  Another big shout out to my partner for endlessly encouraging me and listening to all my story related tangents… Even if they take over an hour!

  Special mentions to Vina, Cara, and Ming.

  And of course, to everyone who has supported me and kept me motivated through all the stages of this story, thank you! ❤

  Choose Me

  By Delmire Hart

  Chapter 1: A Painful End or a Painful Beginning?

  Toru prayed that he would get there in time and urged his horse faster. They galloped at full speed, careless of debris scattered over the track they followed. If he got there in time without laming the horse, it would be a miracle. He only hoped that his squad, well soon to be ex-squad, would reach the town of Niska shortly to start the evacuation. They had received the command from higher up in the army that morning that they would retreat and leave Niska to the enemy. That alone was shocking enough without the order to leave without evacuating or warning the people.

  It wasn’t some tiny village either, there were hundreds if not thousands of people living there, but it was so far from the capital that apparently, no one from further inland cared what happened to the people there. Toru would be damned if he left people there with no warning of the impending pillage. The horse skidded suddenly and he gritted his teeth, holding on desperately. Hemlock managed to stay on her feet, not losing too much speed, and they continued on their way.

  “Nearly there, Hemlock, please just as fast as you can,” Toru muttered to the dappled grey horse. He felt bad for pushing Hemlock so hard. She had been a good horse during the time he had been on the campaign and didn’t deserve this treatment. But if they didn’t get to the battlefield soon, there would be many people facing the violence of an invading army with no warning.

  Toru had joined the army illegally, his squad hiding him from the higher ups in exchange for his elemental powers. Elementals wielded an element of nature almost like magic, each with various abilities, and were only born to the Tysealean people. Even then they were rare and there remained a lot of fear and superstition surrounding people wielding the power. They were marked at birth with colourful tattoos somewhere on their bodies that would grow and change with them. Being so rare and powerful meant that the kingdom jealously guarded their elementals, requiring them to be registered and their movements restricted.

  It was even worse for him: Being an omega and an elemental meant that if the kingdom got hold of him, he might as well be chained to the capital. Toru was lucky, living in such a distant village meant that the will of the kingdom held little sway and he could hide the sparkling silver tattoo that took up most of his chest and live as a normal person.

  Once the war broke out, he illegally joined the army to help out where he could against the invading Rokereans. He discovered he had a far greater power than most elementals and became a great boon to the Tysealean side. But once those orders were handed down to retreat and leave people to death or worse, he was done. Not being a part of the army meant he wasn’t defecting, he could view orders as a suggestion instead. A suggestion that he ignored. To hell with the army. He would stand alone against the world to buy those innocent people as much time as he could.

  Through the trees to his left he saw snippets of the field he was trying to reach before the invaders passed through. This would be where he made his stand. His squad had hopefully reached Niska by now and would be starting the evacuation. All that was left was for him to buy as much time as possible with his life. He had told them in no uncertain terms to return to their posts after they were done and not to come looking for him behind enemy lines.

  The Tysealeans had no idea how many people were in this enemy battalion and Toru was going to commit suicide to buy the most amount of time he could. He planned to use his very life force to fuel his ice and it would unleash a power far greater than what he could normally manage.

  That was his trade off. Throughout his mad dash to the battlefield, he had been determined to put that out of his head but now it was time to say his goodbyes. He offered up a small apology to his parents, who had given him life and freedom and didn’t stop him from going to war even when they disapproved. Now they wouldn’t get to see their son again.

  “Yharis, please watch over them as you have watched over me.” He wasn’t sure if the goddess of elementals would watch over normal people but they had birthed him and he didn’t have enough faith to pray to anyone else. It felt like a shallow attempt to smooth over the pain they would feel when he never returned home, pain caused by him and his foolish actions.

  His chest clenched tightly and he could see an image of his mother crying silently in the rain at the emptiness in her heart. Toru closed his eyes and tried to will away the picture before his own tears welled up. He loved her so dearly, she didn’t deserve that kind of pain. But then neither did the people he would hopefully help protect.

  Please understand, please.

  Opening his eyes again, Toru discovered that they approached the end of the forest and the start of the lush fields that would be his final resting place. He slowed Hemlock to a walk. The sun shone through the overhead canopy of leaves, dappling the path in front of him with sparking light and filling the space with a sense of sleepy peace. What he could see of the fields also gave a sense of tranquillity. The long, lush grass was a deep emerald that swayed in the slight breeze, just beckoning for bare feet and speaking of lazy days.

  It all seemed at odds with the impending bloodshed, but he couldn’t ask for a nicer place to lay at rest. Hopefully the stark red of his death would quickly be soaked up by the earth to turn the field back to its beautiful emerald and leave memories of this day to be forgotten once his bones were swallowed up by
nature.

  Hemlock was heaving and out of breath and when Toru looked down he felt a pang of guilt because she was foaming at the mouth. He had pushed her too hard for too long.

  “It’s okay.” He gently patted the horse’s neck. “We’ll be resting soon.” He reined Hemlock in at the tree line and surveyed the area ahead of him. He could see the Rokerean troops at the other side of the field near a large crystalline lake. There were so many. They must number in the thousands, surely. It seemed as though they were getting ready to move. He had made it in time.

  Toru let out a breath he hadn’t known that he had been holding. Nerves and apprehension made themselves known, and he kicked Hemlock forward before they had time to paralyse him. He made his choice hours ago, and now it was time to face the music.

  The horse bounded forward and Toru could hear the blood pounding in his ears along with the muted drumming of Hemlock’s hooves on the grassy carpet underneath them. He pulled on the reins, slowing to a halt in the middle of the field and watching the flurry of activity as the enemy soldiers tried to figure out what he was doing and what was going on. It was rare for a lone person to approach such an army, especially one clearly from the Tysealean front lines.

  He waited; he had time after all. All the time in the world, really. The more confused they were, the longer they took, the more time he brought for Niska. Eventually a large group of mounted soldiers cautiously made their way forward and Toru swung out of his saddle, gently rubbing Hemlock’s sweaty neck in goodbye.

  “I’m sorry, Hemlock, you were a good horse. Thank you for carrying me so far,” he whispered before striding out in front of her. The soldiers were rapidly getting closer and Toru took a deep breath, closing his eyes and focusing. The image of his elemental power appeared before his eyes, a tranquil pool of water similar to the rivers that used to flow through the forests near his home. Rocks lined the edge and bottom of the pool, along with soft earth and grassy banks. The surface of the liquid was covered in a thin layer of ice patterned with jagged factures. Overall it was beautiful and deceivingly idyllic.

  He mentally drew from that pool of liquid and felt the ice crawl through his veins with a thrilling chill. The air around him dropped in temperature and the blades of grass around his feet frosted over. He pushed out and felt the frost racing out in front of him towards his opponents.

  Toru opened his eyes while continuing to draw from his reserve of ice. He could faintly make out his tattoo glowing silver under his shirt at the edge of his vision. It pulsed brighter and brighter the more power he drew and held onto. His whole body thrummed with the icy chill his element brought to him. He let the breath he was holding out and lashed his hand out in front of his body. Large spikes of ice erupted from the frost underneath the soldier’s feet and tore through the unprotected underbellies of their mounts.

  Toru flinched at the horses’ screams as they writhed in agony. I‘m sorry. I am so, so sorry but I can’t have your masters get any further. Death always twisted his gut with unpleasant feelings and the poor horses were innocent beings. He was usually used to help patrols retreat when they came upon enemy forces or for defence from arrows by erecting ice walls.

  This would be his first time killing.

  He was offering himself up in sacrifice for this deed in protecting his people, so he would just have to shut the blood and pain and fear out. Hopefully he wouldn’t live long enough to question if the ends justified the means.

  Several men didn’t get up after that initial burst, either trapped under their mounts, crushed by panicked hooves, or caught by the sheer force of the ice slicing through weak points in their armour. The sounds of the horses and the yelling and cursing from the men were shrill and grating in his ears. His fingers twitched with the need to cover them and block it all out.

  Instead he pushed out with his ice again and like geysers they spewed forth from the ground with devastating force. The way the shards glittered in the sunlight would be beautiful if he could ignore the implication of the red oozing down the ice. Morbidly beautiful perhaps.

  If only he could block out the screams. There were far more human voices in the cacophony now; screaming, sobbing, begging. The sounds were like physical pressure in his ears, ripping their way into his skull. He caused this. His ice, what felt like the very essence of his soul had caused such pain and loss of life and this was only the beginning. Toru’s stomach heaved, threatening to spill its contents onto the ground but he couldn’t stop. Not now. It was too late to do anything but see it through to the end.

  Pushing himself away from his horse, Toru staggered forward as more soldiers approached the stricken group in a rush. Blearily he made out archers in the distance, bows drawn and getting ready to fire. He mentally spread the frost across the grass in a larger arc in front of himself in preparation for needing a fast shield. For some reason, pushing ice out from the frosted-over ground had always been easier to him than the flashier way of shooting ice directly from his hands.

  Right now, he needed to conserve as much power and energy as possible for as long as possible so he could buy the most time with his life. He wasn’t going to be selling his life cheaply, that was for sure. The arrows were finally let loose and a sweeping gesture of his arm brought forth a wall of ice to cover himself.

  An ear-splitting scream sounded from behind him and Toru stumbled. Hemlock. He couldn’t bring himself to turn around and see the arrows that had sailed over his wall to hit his innocent steed. He couldn’t bring himself to put the creature out of its misery either and perhaps that was the cruellest thing of all.

  Anger welled up: at himself for his choice and at those who were invading his country, his home, those who had forced his hand, forced this series of heartbreaking choices. Toru grabbed onto that anger. It was a cold rage, so cold it burned and he let the feeling infuse his being until he could no longer see, no longer think but for the anger. And then he unleashed it.

  Toru didn’t know how long had passed since he had started this fight, it could be minutes or hours. The chilling fog of rage still burned within him, blocking out the screams and cries and the sight of sickening crimson. He kept lashing out again and again, large geysers of ice in the distance and ice shooting from his hands at close range. He was blind and deaf to the death around him. But the soldiers kept coming and he was flagging. How long? How long had he been here? How much time had he brought?

  Not enough. Not yet. More, I need more.

  The little pool of power in his mind’s eye was nearly empty and he watched as it visibly drained. He pulled, mentally willing all the moisture, all the power from the slick rocks at the bottom. All the moisture from the blades of grass at the edge of the pond and from the earth all around. He watched as the pool finally ran dry and kept pulling, kept willing the power to continue flowing within him.

  Time, I need more time.

  A terrible tearing sensation started at his fingers as he kept throwing his ice around and it began to crawl up his arm while starting in the other hand as well. And it hurt. Painful beyond imagining, it felt like his skin was tearing away from his body. Dimly he was aware of his own screaming but he was numb to the sound. He could see through his tears that his skin remained in place, fingers still able to move and ice still erupting with terrifying force around him. In fact, if anything the ice was more violent in the force of its movements now.

  He threw an arm out and nearly fainted at the pain. He stayed upright through willpower alone and gaped at the sheer force of destruction his ice was now capable of. Toru had just wiped out countless men with a bare wave of his hand but the tearing feeling was now starting at his toes and moving up towards his torso with alarming speed.

  Life force, he realised. This was the effect of using his life essence.

  He visualised his little pool of power again and froze in horror at the picture now in his mind. The liquid power was all gone, even the moisture of the rocks at the bottom was gone. The grass around the edges was shrivel
led and brown and blackening even further as he watched. The once soft earth was hard and dry with great fissures and smaller cracks patterning the surface. So dead and desolate compared to the once lush and idyllic vision. Toru felt like his heart was breaking and choked out a sob even while he still forced out his ice into the bodies surrounding him. This was his life. That was the price.

  It hadn’t really hit him before, just a vague concept that was too terrifyingly real to think of properly. He dropped to his knees and looked around with eyes clear for the first time since he had let the rage consume him. Mangled bodies of humans and horses surrounded him. Limbs missing or at odd angles and red. So much red. The sickening crimson was a sticky layer over everything. It had seeped into the very earth at his knees and created the thick mud he had sunk into. The sound hit him all at once and was almost more horrifying than sight: screaming, sobbing, begging, yelling, praying.

  Tears poured down his face and splattered onto his muddy knees. Toru brought up a hand to wipe them away and it came back smeared with red. Blood. He now cried tears of blood. The tearing sensation had stopped its advance when he stopped throwing his ice around but Toru knew it was converging on his heart. Tilting his face to the bright blue sky, he summoned the last of his will and forced out the ice in a devastating arc centered from his seated form.

  Suddenly numb to all feeling and sound, he let his eyes slip shut and body slump to the ground. He was grateful that his last vision before he died would be the crystalline sky, however selfish that might be. He only prayed that he had bought enough time for the cost of his life.

  ***

  Darkness surrounded him. It was an ebbing and flowing kind of darkness, like mist swirling around him. It caressed him with gentle tendrils and stabbed him with pointed spikes. Was this dying? The place between life and death? Snatches of sound made their way to his ears but they were indistinct, too short and too abrupt for Toru to find meaning. He floated by, numb to all but the most painful of feelings. Sparks of light wound their way into his vision but they were too bright and he cried out in pain as they flashed.