Europe stretched from the mouth of the Viseu and Golden Bistrita rivers all the way to the great Hungarian Plain, the Rocky Mountains were located in western North America and stretched all the way from Canada to New Mexico. The eastern edge of the Rockies had been inhabited by the banished males of his ancestry, those who had been forced from the Transylvanian Alps many 36
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centuries earlier as part of the Blood Curse. Eventually, they had settled along the central Front Range, building a lasting society—and a legacy of wealth.
Nathaniel had grown to love this "new" land, with its enormous, jutting mountain peaks, reaching impossibly high into the bluest of skies. He adored the endless valleys and forests, with their mild spring and summer weather, and he practically worshiped the purple and orange sunsets.
And he never grew tired of discovering the endless channels of water—rivers bursting with white-water rapids, waterfalls pouring out of steep cliffs, and sparkling, crystal lakes hiding deep within secret meadows.
As he approached the Valley of Shadows, he surveyed the land below. The descendants of King Sakarias had originally settled in the region some 2,800 years ago, separating the vast mountain ranges into two distinct regions: all the land to the west of the Red Canyons had been claimed by the Dark Ones, the descendants of Jaegar; while all the land to the east of the canyons had been inhabited by the descendants of Jadon.
The approaching valley below was a neutral zone that connected the two.
As Nathaniel slowed to make his descent, he could see the slender silhouette of a woman; she was rocking back and forth like a frightened child, kneeling on the ground.
Absently, he wondered how she had gotten so close to the Red Canyons. She should have been able to feel the dark hand of warning that safe-guarded the region; it was set in 37
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place by the sons of Jadon to keep out humans who might wander too close.
Curious, Nathaniel landed out of view behind a small grouping of pine trees and watched the human female. She was clearly distressed, her narrow shoulders hunched over from the weight of her tears, but she did not appear to be in any immediate danger.
To be perfectly honest, Nathaniel was grateful for the momentary distraction from his grief, however slight.
Cautiously, he stepped out from behind the trees. His eyes immediately searched hers out to project a sense of calm.
"Hello," he called softly.
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38
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Chapter Four
Jocelyn jolted and screamed in fright, the sudden appearance of the dangerous-looking male shocking her back into the moment. Although he immediately put up both hands—palms forward, in a timeless gesture of peace—she wasn't about to take any chances. She sprang to her feet, drew her gun, and cocked the trigger, all in one smooth motion. Holding it forward in a two-armed stance, she slowly backed away, her eyes glued to the stranger.
"Don't move!"
The tall dark male raised his hands even higher, flashing a slow, easy smile that was loaded with heat. His perfect teeth gleamed in the night. "I'm sorry if I frightened you. I heard you scream and thought you might need help." His timbre was deep and alluring.
Jocelyn felt instantly drawn to the male, like a paper clip to a magnet. His voice was pure poetry, a gentle caress to the soul, and it was edged with a faint, almost medieval accent.
Jocelyn had heard that accent before.
"I said don't move!" This time, she shouted the command, pointing the barrel of the gun directly between his eyes. "And don't come any closer."
"I'm not moving," he assured her. "I just came to see...are you okay?"
Jocelyn fought the subtle coercion in his voice. "Quit talking!"
His eyebrows shot up. "Interesting."
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He muttered the word beneath his breath, and then he became deathly quiet as his eyes swept