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Shattered Destiny Episode Three
Shattered Destiny Episode Three
Shattered Destiny Episode Three
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Shattered Destiny Episode Three

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Shar’s taken, and Xarin will do everything in his power to get her back.
It won't be enough.
They’re up against forces greater than the very universe.
And they have no time left. In Shattered Destiny Episode Three, wheels are set in motion. Shar and Xarin are thrust further apart as the fight for the Milky Way, and each other, begins.
....
A light-romance sci-fi, Shattered Destiny follows a gritty warrior and a cold prince fighting destiny to find each other one more time. If you love your space operas with action, heart, and a splash of romance, grab Shattered Destiny Episode Three today and soar free with an Odette C. Bell series.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateMay 2, 2016
ISBN9781310011818
Shattered Destiny Episode Three

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    Shattered Destiny Episode Three - Odette C. Bell

    Chapter 1

    Shar

    I woke. Briefly. My consciousness flashed before me like a blast from a gun.

    I saw slices of the Arterian tracker’s black robes.

    I saw sections of the brown metal walls, of the tunnel floor and ceiling, of the rust-colored puddles, of the broken cargo boxes.

    My consciousness swept in and out, in and out like a lazy wave brushing against the shore.

    The next time I woke I was outside. A long way out of the city. My face was pressed down in a pile of sand. I knew the sensation well from my time on the refinery. I recognized sand better than I recognized my own face.

    I tried to move.

    Couldn’t.

    My entire body was wrapped up in that silver metal wire. I could feel it bunch against my clothes, wrap around my ankles, lock my wrists in place behind my back. A few loops even covered my face. I could only half open one eye. It darted around, saw the mound of sand in front of my face, then managed to see a slice of the sky above.

    It was blue. A new day.

    Which meant we’d been traveling through the night. That didn’t mean much, as the night was short on this planet. It still meant I’d been out – slipping in and out of consciousness – for several hours.

    I heard them speaking. Just low, hushed tones at first, barely recognizable.

    My ears were ringing, mind practically shaking from the effects of whatever they kept injecting me with.

    But I started to discern what they were saying above the general hum and crackle in my ears.

    Soon. Ship… will come soon.

    I focused my mind on the voices, using every last scrap of energy I could.

    I would have gritted my teeth, but I couldn’t spare the energy. Instead I forced my attention into a point as if I were trying to shove it through the eye of a needle.

    Ship will… touchdown… two minutes.

    Two minutes. Ship. My mind latched onto those words, realizing how important they were.

    Is the suppression field holding? one of them asked. Now I could hear better, I realized he had a different tone to the other two. More forthright, more authoritative.

    Though my brain was truly addled, I had enough attention left over to realize he was probably in charge.

    Yes. It is doubtful we needed it, anyway. It appears they have little if any connection.

    … Connection.

    That word slammed into my mind with all the force of a boot to the head.

    It almost made me shiver, but I couldn’t fight against the effects of the silver wire. It wasn’t just the jolt of electricity it had sent slamming through my body in the tunnel – it was having a lasting effect on me.

    Still… that word – connection – I had a bone-shaking reaction to it.

    It’s best to be safe. Inject her with the blocker.

    Yes, noble one, one of them said.

    Noble one? It was an odd way to refer to a superior.

    It reminded me I knew little about Arterian society. Sure, they were all awful, but I was suddenly aware that if I understood more about their culture, I may appreciate what was going on here.

    Because why the hell had three Arterian trackers – not to mention an Arterian assassin – come after little old me? Had I pissed the prince off that much? Was this some roundabout way of killing me?

    Even as I thought it, I knew it was impossible.

    Because suddenly I was reminded of the Prince’s expression when he’d seen me being attacked by the assassin.

    Crushed. Broken. Splintered with fear.

    And yet he’d gone on to abandon me to the void, choosing Princess Arteria instead.

    Just thinking about that brought up another wave of hatred towards him, but it couldn’t last.

    Suddenly I heard footsteps behind me.

    I drove my eyes closed, not wanting the trackers to realize I’d woken.

    I felt somebody latch a hand onto my neck and pull me up by the silver wire. I could feel my body was cut in numerous places from it. My cheeks, my wrists, my arms and legs.

    I wasn’t stupid enough to groan in pain.

    I waited as somebody injected something into my neck. Though my body desperately wanted to pull away, I grit my teeth and ignored the urge.

    Once the guy was done injecting me with the blocker, as they’d called it, he dumped me back on the ground. Not placed me, gently guiding my head down so I wasn’t injured. No, my head slammed into the sand with a rattling shake. These were obviously real nice people.

    I didn’t allow myself to open my eyes until I heard the footsteps recede far enough away that I knew they wouldn’t be able to see me.

    Then I carefully, cautiously half opened my eye.

    The three Arterian trackers were behind me, so there was nothing to stop me from surveying the landscape.

    As I couldn’t move, my view was limited. Just the mound of sand in front of me, leading out to a dirty, dusty flat area that looked like a ramshackle ship port, if I was any judge.

    God, they must somehow have taken me to the other side of the planet, or well out of the city and into the desert, at the very least. These Arterian trackers were either exceptionally good at stealing what they required, or they’d been planning this for a long time.

    I didn’t like either option.

    If they were too good, there’d be no way I would be able to escape. And if there’d been planning this for a long time… I couldn’t even begin to comprehend that possibility. Because I couldn’t even begin to comprehend why these men were after me in the first place.

    My gaze darted over the ramshackle spaceport, towards a few equally ramshackle buildings in the distance. They were nothing more than old metal frames, sections of piled up stone and wood, and awnings of flex canvas. The winds on this part of the planet were obviously brutal, as the canvas was practically shredded. As another gust whistled past, several strips of canvas banged against the wind, pounding like a drumbeat.

    The wind blew sand in my eyes. I blinked them closed but opened them almost immediately.

    I knew my only chance of escaping was to look for an opportunity and take it.

    Anything.

    Before my opportunity could come, I started to hear a low, thumping, violent rumbling shift down from above. At first I couldn’t hear it over the whistle of the wind. Then it became unmistakable.

    A ship was coming in to land.

    Sure enough, I felt the downward pressure of its thrusters push against my clothes and plaits.

    I still kept one eye open as I locked it on that looming shadow above.

    Soon enough, it came into view.

    It was powerful, large, and it was a strange sleek design I’d never seen. Instantly my gaze locked on the massive blue engine ports. They were the color of topaz lit up by bursts of flames.

    The downward thrusters kicked up great clouds of sand, and as the cruiser swept in to land, the sand was burnt up by the engine ports.

    Though the cruiser pilot had to be skilled to avoid us and land on such a ramshackle pad, he still couldn’t avoid everything, and a thrust of wind from the engines completely obliterated a shack on the opposite side of the landing area. There was the sound of metal groaning and wood splitting. Several sheets of canvas came loose, caught by the wind, and were buffeted off into the desert.

    My gaze locked on them until finally I heard footsteps. From behind, the three men drew up alongside me.

    I closed my eyes.

    It’s time. There is no longer any point in waiting, the man in charge said.

    The other two did not reply. Instead one of them leaned down and grabbed the silver metal rope.

    The guy proceeded to drag me across the compacted sand. I felt my body bang into every stone, my skin grate against every grain of sand. New cuts appeared over my skin as the silver wire sliced harder and harder into my body. Droplets of blood trailed down my hands and cheeks.

    I felt the thundering pulsations of the ship’s engine pound into the ground, felt them climb through my body and slam into my jaw.

    They were nothing – nothing – compared to the roar of my heart.

    I was about to be taken off this planet.

    And away from him.

    Xarin….

    Prince Xarin

    I wasted no time. I got a ship.

    Though it theoretically should have been impossible, I slipped off my own vessel. I pretended to Arteria, the captain, Mark, and anyone else who would care that I had withdrawn into my room for several days of uninterrupted meditation. I informed the captain that he would not contact me, even for operational questions.

    While my crew and Arteria thought I was holed up in my room, I slipped off the Illuminate and headed straight to the merchant world where Shar had been kidnapped.

    Suffice to say, for the entire duration of the short journey, every second felt like an hour.

    By the time I finally landed on the planet and disembarked my superfast vessel, my entire body itched with nerves.

    Now I’d accepted the obvious fact I’d tried to push away for so long – that Shar was my betrothed – I tried to connect with her.

    I knew enough about the betrothal tradition to appreciate that an enduring connection existed between two betrothed through time and space. Not just a connection struck through a contract – a physical, real connection that bound the two for eternity.

    Theoretically I should be able to call upon that connection – reach out to Shar. Assist her, even.

    I couldn’t. No matter how hard I tried, no matter how much I pushed my mind into finding her, I couldn’t.

    Either I was too weak and mentally undisciplined to make the connection… or something was blocking us.

    As a cold shiver ran down my back and sank hard into my spine, I pushed away one dark possibility. That the reason I couldn’t hear Shar, was that she was no longer there to hear. That she was dead.

    It didn’t take long to slip on to the merchant world.

    Suffice to say, I was not in my usual armor.

    Even one hint of the purple and gold, and it would be obvious to anyone that I was a member of the Arterian Royal family. A connection I could not afford to reveal. Instead I wore a simple, drab brown set of transport ship armor. Or at least, that’s what it looked like. I’d instructed my own armor to alter its outer appearance. It would retain every single advantage it had – advantages I feared I would need.

    This merchant world was like every other I’d visited. Teeming with aliens of every single race. I wasn’t used to being jostled in a crowd. I wasn’t used to being alone without guards, either. But it made it easier to slip past the various arguing aliens as I headed towards the Arterian AI unit. I’d already maintained a remote connection to it, and I let the unit guide my armor.

    The longer I traveled, and the more the dark night dwindled, the more fear climbed my back. Though climbed wasn’t quite the right word. It felt as if every single cell was being replaced by total, pure panic.

    There was a limit to how fast I could go. I couldn’t break into a full sprint and push my way through the crowd – I’d draw too much attention. And it was vital no one knew why I was truly here.

    If the Arterian AI unit was correct, and Arterian trackers had kidnapped Shar… my gut sank through the floor just thinking of it.

    The Arterian trackers were an unknown, shady group within the Empire. On the face of it, they simply served the empress – completing whatever tasks they were set. But there was a rumor – an enduring one – that the trackers really had another purpose. To acquire and suppress information relating to the Illuminates and the Great War. Back when I’d been a

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