The Guardian King

Chapter One

Hello Readers,

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Thank you so much for joining me on this journey! I am very grateful to each and every one of you! Constructive criticism is always appreciated and I encourage readers to point out errors or inconsistencies, it’s how I get better… just please be kind. Though this is my second novel, it’s my first fantasy story. TGK has a bit of a different feel than my first novel, A Hand to Hold, but I hope you enjoy it all the same.

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***BE AWARE***

THIS IS BOOK ONE of TWO. I have only just begun creating the outline for the sequel, so if you’re a reader like me, who prefers to read a story in its entirety without having to pause in the middle, perhaps it’s best you not start this one until the second is completed. Just wanted to give you a heads up.

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Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy The Guardian King!

~ E. K. Michaels

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Chapter One

~ Ember’s POV

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I shifted uncomfortably in the driver’s seat and rubbed my dry eyes one at a time. The nearest mile marker represented seventy miles until I reached my destination. As the sign faded away in the rearview mirror a massive yawn overtook me. I reached for the coffee purchased during my previous pit stop, but grimaced from its lack of warmth.

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After returning the paper cup to the holder, I blasted the AC in a further effort to stave off exhaustion. Two days in the car pushed me to my breaking point. Apprehension grew with every mile put behind me. I’d never been a risk taker, and moving halfway across the country to an unknown place was about as risky as decisions came.

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With one hand remaining on the steering wheel, I reached for the object in my lap. As I stroked the porous sand dollar, I drew strength from my mom’s last gift. The only force propelling me forward stemmed from the knowledge I hadn’t left anything behind. Mom’s loss left me without a tether. I’d drifted aimlessly for years, until an unexpected visit to the hospital forced me to reevaluate my life. I came to the conclusion my risk averse nature had been nothing but a handicap. In search of a fresh start, free from grief and lingering trauma, I called the only person left I could trust.

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I turned the car into the driveway of The Ashford Inn just as the sun began to kiss the horizon. The timing was fortunate. I wouldn’t have been able to keep sleep at bay once night came. With my feet planted firmly on solid ground again, I stretched my cramped muscles and took in my surroundings. Enormous trees bordered the quaint property, but not a single rogue leaf blemished the gravel. The manicured landscape revealed pride of ownership and welcomed weary travelers. Eye-catching flower beds bursted with a rainbow of blooms, and old-fashioned lamp posts illuminated the front porch steps. However, nothing could compare to the majestic mountains the inn lay within the shadows of. A soft smile came over me at the breathtaking sight and my soul felt peace for the first time since losing my mom.

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Before I reached the wooden steps of the large Queen Anne style house, the front door whipped open. A forty-something female flew down the steps, bounding with excitement. “Ember!” she squealed wrapping her arms around me.

“Hi, Beth,” I calmly replied into her russet-brown hair. She rocked me back and forth as she embraced me with ferocity, saying, “Please… call me Aunt Beth.”

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I’d only met Beth Ashford once in person; the day of mom’s funeral. She was my only link to the father I never met. In my early childhood, Beth and mom spoke on the phone once a year, on dad’s birthday. As technology advanced, they got with the times and began FaceTiming, but still only once a year. I never understood that. But mom made sure I understood, if I ever needed anything, Aunt Beth was someone to whom I could always turn.

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Beth pulled back to look at me, but left her hands gripping my shoulders. “I can’t believe you’re actually here!” she expressed with joyful eyes. I attempted to make my smile match hers, but the exhaustion, both physical and mental, was too great. “Yeah, finally,” I replied. “It’s been a long two days.”

“You poor thing. You must be tired. Let’s go inside.” She took the heavy duffel bag from my hand and gestured for me to enter ahead of her.

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Inside the foyer I admired the pleasant decor of the antique house. Every detail had been beautifully updated while retaining a lot of it’s original charm. It was simply adorable. If I didn’t know better it seemed as though I’d stepped through the cover of a home decor magazine. Everything was cozy and inviting. I’d always found old houses to be stuffy. However, Beth’s place radiated comfort and tranquility, causing me to take my first deep breath since leaving home.

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Still grinning broadly, Beth lead me up the stairs. Maybe I would be happy too after a full nights sleep. At the moment, fatigue prevented me from feeling much of anything. Weariness ran through me in more ways than one. I wanted to share in Beth’s excitement, but my presence there had less to do with desire and more to do with necessity.

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“Isaac is so excited to finally meet you,” Beth all but sang as we reached the second floor. “Unfortunately, he’s at his sister’s place right now. I wasn’t expecting you quite so early. Oh, I can’t wait to introduce you to Gemma! She’s a few years older than you, but I’m sure the two of you will become fast friends.”

“Um, yeah. Maybe.”

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The truth was, when it came to friends, I hadn’t any for most of my life. In large part due to my knack for pushing people away; a self-preservation tactic I’d developed early on in life. It doesn’t hurt near as much when people inevitably walked away, if I never let myself get close to them in the first place. Relying on people was asking for disappointment. A ravine lay between me and others, making me adept at being a loner.

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“I’m so pleased to have you here!” Beth stated as she turned the knob on a dark-stained oak door. “I hope you’ll make yourself at home. Your room overlooks the backyard.” The room was larger in size than expected. It comfortably housed the king-size bed, with plenty of room to accommodate the matching furniture. The built-in window seat, adorned with sage-green pillows, invited me to look through the glass. Just as Beth claimed, the windows provided a beautiful view of the property’s backside. When I peeked through the sheer white curtains, I discovered a fantasy world. The serene backyard appeared almost otherworldly. The mature trees, colorful foliage, and cobblestone path had me itching to take a walk under the leafy canopy.

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“Your place is lovely.” I told Beth sincerely when I turned back in her direction.

“Isaac will be pleased by the compliment,” she replied. “He’s poured a lot of sweat into the landscape. This place was quite overgrown and dilapidated when we first bought it fifteen years ago.” She affectionately stroked the door frame. “It’s our baby.”

“I can see the love.”

“You’re very sweet,” she said with yet another warm smile.

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Beth took a few steps further into the room, looking straight at me as she admitted, “I can’t get over how much you look like your dad.”

“Really?” With a vigorous nod she said, “With the exception of your adorable button nose, courtesy of Lisa. But your round face, light hair color, and blue eyes are all exactly like Jonas. Does the shade of your irises shift based on your mood too?”

“Oh my goodness, yes! That was from him?”

“Absolutely.”

“I had no idea. Mom never told me. She… she didn’t like to talk about him.”

“I’m so sorry, Ember.”

“It’s fine. I got used to it. Anyway, it’s nice to know I’m not the only person in existence to have color-shifting eyes. And here I thought I was at least unique in one way.”

“Ember, you are unique in so many ways.”

“Well, you don’t really know me yet. Trust me, the more you know about me, the more you’ll see, I am entirely ordinary.”

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Beth bit her bottom lip, clearly wanting to argue, but decided against it. A beat of awkwardness passed between us until she said, “Well, I’ll let you get settled. I usually lay out breakfast at seven in the morning, but as you are no mere guest, let me know if there’s a better time.”

“Seven is just fine, thanks.” Beth nodded in affirmation and as she left the room said, “Welcome to Middlebrook.”

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As I toured my new bedroom my brain filled with questions I couldn’t answer. What would my mom say if she were still alive? I’d inherited my risk-averse nature from her, therefore, I wasn’t sure she’d be happy with the choice I made to move to Colorado. Would she be disappointed in me? Or would she be proud of me for trusting my instincts, which for some reason had always been difficult. I didn’t trust myself. Some days it felt like I didn’t even KNOW myself.

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Hardly an hour after sunset, I dressed for sleep and climbed into the massive bed, piled high with soft, white blankets. With a glance at my sand dollar on the nightstand, it occurred to me I should’ve felt more anxious about the unknown road ahead. However, since arriving at Beth’s inn, all nervousness evaporated, replaced by optimistic excitement. No doubt Beth had rubbed off on me in the short time I’d spent in her presence. Perhaps she was simply THAT sort of person; the kind who spread positively wherever she went.

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Although, my heart told me the source of contentment wasn’t only from Beth. Middlebrook held a special charm I looked forward to investigating. Or more specifically, the mountains the town lay at the base of. Beth being my only family was not the primary reason I chose to move there. The traumatic end to my senior year of college triggered a reoccurring dream of the Colorado mountains. The images called to me and instilled a sense of belonging unlike anything I’d ever known. It only took a week to make the decision to move there, but over two months to sell my childhood home and get rid of anything that wasn’t vital to my existence.

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Mountains were not the only subject of my reoccurring dream. A dark-haired man had hijacked my subconscious. This unnamed man also elicited a feeling of belonging within me, only one that went much deeper. I wanted to believe in the realness of my hallucination. But he was only a figment of my vulnerable mind. My mental state had been incredibly fragile the first time I envisioned those deep set golden eyes. That masculine face etched itself into my brain. The only possible explanation; it was my subconscious’ attempt at creating a paragon, who would save me from ever getting hurt again. I called him my guardian, though I couldn’t fathom why; he wasn’t real.

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I pushed all thoughts of my guardian away, and with a gentle exhale, absorbed the realization of what I’d done. I’d followed a dream to Middlebrook. An unfamiliar emotion trickled into my veins; hope. That gave me courage to move on from my past and bravely seek out my purpose. As I laid in bed that night, thinking about the future seeped in possibility, a new thought occurred to me. I’d been true to myself for the very first time.

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