Her Fallen Champion – Luna Lawson

Behind me, the portal still hung open, though greatly diminished now—barely larger than a window, and its edges curling inward like burning paper. Through it, I could see the ruined garden, and the flashing of lights—red and blue—and Annalise herself. Our eyes met through the diminishing opening, hers wide with something I couldn’t interpret from this distance. Her lips moved, forming words I couldn’t hear through the barrier between worlds. The portal shuddered, collapsing further.

In seconds, it would be gone entirely, and the connection would be severed. I raised my hand in a final farewell, my throat too tight for words that wouldn’t be heard anyway. Then Annalise moved. Not away, as any sane person would from a collapsing magical doorway. She moved toward it. Running. She lunged forward with startling speed; her expression was the same one I’d seen in her kitchen when she’d faced down fae hunters with nothing but a cast iron pan. “No!” I shouted and reached helplessly toward the rapidly shrinking opening.

“Annalise, don’t!” But she was already running, covering the distance between herself and the portal in desperate strides. There was a moment I could see that she realized it might be too small already, but she barrelled onward. She leapt—actually leapt—through the air toward the narrowing gap. For one suspended moment, I was certain she’d miss, and that she’d crash to the ground in the place where the portal had been.

My heart stopped, frozen between beats. Then her body hit the opening, and squeezing through the too-small space with a sound of tearing fabric and a cry of pain that echoed in my ears. I lunged forward and caught her as she tumbled through. We fell together onto the forest floor in a tangle of limbs and kicking feet. Behind her, the portal sealed with a sound like thunder, and the last connection to the human realm vanished as if it had never existed.

Annalise lay half-across me, and her body shuddered with the trauma of transition. Her skin glowed faintly with residual magic, and her hair lifted slightly with static energy. Blood trickled from her nose and the corner of her mouth. The crossing was painful at the best of times—and this hadn’t been the best of times. It was a miracle we’d ended up in the same place. “Are you insane?” I gasped when I found my voice and pushed myself up to examine her for any serious injuries. “You could have been killed!

You could have been trapped between realms!” Annalise coughed and wiped blood from her lip with the back of her hand. When she looked up at me, her hazel eyes were bright with triumph despite the pain evident in her expression.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. OceanofPDF.com CONTENTS 1. Annalise 2. Annalise 3. Ash 4. Annalise 5. Ash 6. Annalise 7. Ash 8. Ash 9. Ash 10. Ash 11. Annalise 12. Annalise 13. Annalise 14. Ash 15. Ash 16. Annalise 17.

Ash 18. Annalise 19. Ash 20. Ash 21. Annalise Epilogue ~ Ash More from Luna Lawson OceanofPDF.com T 1 ANNALISE he path to my cottage never seemed quite so long as it did that evening, my arms ached under the weight of a box of antique books and specialty tea tins that hadn’t sold that day. The Renaissance Faire had been good to me—better than expected for a wet spring weekend—but six hours of smiling at customers and explaining the provenance of the leather-bound volumes, some of which I’d re-bound myself, had left me hollow.

My feet ached, and the hem of my gown was soaked through from the wet grass. I adjusted my grip on the wooden box and caught the scent of bergamot, jasmine, and old paper that wafted up from the box. Almost there. Home was just beyond the bend, my small sanctuary with its herb garden and reading nook called to me. I could sleep for a week. The day had been surprisingly profitable. I’d sold three first editions to a collector who recognized their worth without haggling, and the specialty teas—blends I’d created myself with names like “Midnight Scholar” and “Librarian’s Comfort”—had nearly sold out.

People at these events were always drawn to the romance of old things, and the appeal of holding the weight of history in their hands. I understood the appeal; it was why I’d built my little business in the first place, that bridge between past and present. Everything in this box would go back into my shop in the morning. I let out a heavy sigh and shifted the box in my arms. “Maybe it can wait a few days,” I muttered. My cottage came into view as I rounded the bend, its stone walls and slate roof a familiar silhouette against the darkening sky.

Thankfully, I’d remembered to leave the porch light on before I’d left that morning. I’d chosen this place on purpose. It was isolated enough, needed a little TLC, and it had been cheap.

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.

Book Information

• Unique ID: fa2d5a4855a28d80
• File Extension: .pdf
• File Size: 2,432,669 bytes (2.32 MB)
• Title: –
• Author: Unknown
• Pages: 225
• Language: English (en)

Reading & Word Statistics

• Estimated Reading Time: 352.91 minutes
• Total Words: 70,582
• Total Characters: 407,743
• Average Words per Page: 313.7
• Average Characters per Page: 1812.19

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