Sacrifice of the Septimus: Part 1 (Afterlife saga Book 7)

  Sacrifice of the Septimus

  Part 1

  Afterlife Saga

  Book 7

  BY

  Stephanie Hudson

  Copyright

  This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the author, as allowed under terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author's rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

  Copyright © 2016 Stephanie Hudson

  All rights reserved.

  -

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Warning:

  This book contains explicit sexual content, some graphic language and a highly addictive Alpha Males.

  Cover design by: © Blake Hudson Designs

  Dedication

  I dedicate this book to all my family who have always been there for me and given me the courage to reach for my dreams, even when they seemed far…far…away.

  Painted Soul

  All of my life is a fated piece of art,

  Wandering a road, with promise from the start,

  A destiny that might follow in these steps taken,

  With love and affection that was never forsaken,

  For I wouldn’t be the person that you see painted today,

  With brush strokes of colour, along with the grey.

  And the people that I owe for this beautiful piece,

  Is the life filled with love that never could cease,

  For I owe my happiness to others around,

  To my family that will always keep me safe on the ground,

  To steer me right and keep a watchful eye,

  But fill me with hope that I can reach for the sky.

  So I soar in the air, and grab hold of my dreams,

  Whilst my family looks on, as their proudness beams,

  For they want me to do well in this life’s new venture,

  Cheering me on as I follow the road, destination adventure,

  I take strength in their comfort and confidence in me,

  And hold on to it tightly, as it sets my insecurities free.

  For there is nothing quite like that lovely family smile,

  That brightens your day when life seems like a trial,

  The kind words spoken bring hope when things seem lost,

  That last minute struggle to get I’s dotted and T’s crossed,

  The mad rush of deadlines, that keep closing in,

  But with one line, ‘You’ll do it’ gets you out of a spin.

  So to all my supportive family I tell you this sincerely,

  That my painted heart will always love you dearly,

  For each stroke made, giving me this soul,

  And painting me as this picture, swirls of colour made whole,

  I can tell you now that I will always feel proud,

  To call you my family and scream it out loud,

  For your love painted me this way, for reasons not unknown,

  And I open my heart, so that those reasons can be shown,

  As I dedicate this book to the artists of my soul,

  The reasons behind making this dream life a goal,

  To my Mother and Father and family alike,

  I hold your love dear for in my heart it did strike.

  To my Mother, Father and Sister. I will always love you, no matter what life throws our way.

  Other books by Stephanie Hudson

  Afterlife Saga

  Book 1 Afterlife

  Book 2 The Two Kings

  Book 3 The Triple Goddess

  Book 4 The Quarter Moon

  Book 5 The Pentagram Child /Part 1

  The Pentagram Child /Part 2

  Book 6 The Cult of the Hexad

  About the Author

  Stephanie Hudson has dreamed of being a writer ever since her obsession with reading books at an early age. What first became a quest to overcome the boundaries set against her in the form of dyslexia has turned into a life's dream. She first started writing in the form of poetry and soon found a taste for horror and romance. Afterlife is the first book in the series of seven, with the story of Keira and Draven becoming ever more complicated in a world that sets them miles apart.

  When not writing, Stephanie enjoys chatting with her fans and spending time with her friends. Being with her loving family as much as she can including her wonderful daughter Ava and supportive husband and personal muse Blake, who is there for her no matter what.

  "My Love and devotion is to all of my wonderful fans that keep me going into the wee hours of the night, but foremost to my wonderful daughter Ava...who yes, is named after a Demonic bird."

  Afterlife Saga is going to be 7 books in total plus spin offs, as some stories are just too big for one book, and at the moment she is working on Book 7 Part 2.

  Warning!

  This book has been written by a UK Author with a mad sense of humour. Which means the following story contains a mixture of Northern English slang, dialect, regional colloquialisms and other quirky spellings that have been intentionally included to make the story and dialogue more realistic for modern day characters.

  Thanks for reading x

  Prologue

  If you could choose how you would die which would it be? Would it be a quiet and peaceful death surrounded by those who love you, whereby you simply slip into an everlasting slumber? Or would you go out basking in a blaze of glory and forging your name in history for all of those who love you to remember?

  For most of us we have no choice or say in how we leave this world. Some are ripped from it far too early and tragically before life was even given a chance to be lived. But for the lucky ones their time comes full circle after a long fulfilling life of love and happiness, simply becoming the final chapter for them to discover. The last chapter to a story that only they know the ending to when they take the last step and breath hand in hand. Because the unforgiving truth is something we all carry with us through life and it’s as simple as…

  Every Story comes to an End.

  But what if you could change that ending? What if it was one you never thought possible who held control of it all in the palm of his hand? The one you would have risked everything you ever cared about to prove time wrong. What if the knife that was threatened against your throat was being held by a hand you knew…by a hand belonging to a man you loved?

  What then of the story books and twisted fairy tale endings?

  No, when I thought about my own death I never saw what faced me now. If I could have been ruler of my own fate then my death would have been in sacrifice to save the other half of my soul. It would have been so that the man I loved would live in place of my death. So many times before I felt myself die without actually leaving this earth and every time I spoke the name of the man I lived for the most.

  But now… well now I spoke his name to save my life. Because he held my life in his hands and as the blade dug deeper into my fragile flesh, one already bruised and beaten, I knew the horrifying truth…

  Love couldn’t save me now. It was all for nothing. My sacrifice wasn’t my happy ending, it was my lost beginning. I could see that now as clearly as I could see my fear reflected in the cold metal that collecte
d my tears. So, did I see myself dying of a broken heart and soul along with a broken body…? No, that was never supposed to be my sacrifice. That wasn’t written in the fates or seen by any God, which could only mean one thing…

  I wasn’t the Chosen One after all.

  So as the tears started to fall for a new reason other than fear, I looked into the deep dark eyes of the man I loved and pleaded for my life, one…last…time.

  “Please Draven…don’t kill me.”

  Chapter 1

  Room for New Beginnings

  ‘They say time is a great healer, but it depends on which heart needs healing and in which bitter time you live. Because there are three things in life you will never get back. A word once it’s been spoken, the moment after it has passed and the time which you just lost. So is time really a healer or just a state of mind which you can choose to free yourself from? A place you can simply step away from and start over.

  So then what if you could change your destiny forever and what if you could take back time and rewrite history, all for another life? Would you sacrifice a lifetime lived for a lifetime gained?

  It may be time to find out.’

  One month earlier…

  “Seriously? I mean…seriously?”

  “Something wrong Sweetpea?”

  “Uhh…yeah! Come on, I mean seriously hunka hubby I know you’re sexy and all, but how long have I been eating cereal for?” Pip’s high pitched moan started to draw my attention away from the dark thoughts I had been slowly slipping deeper and deeper into.

  “I’m not sure my dear wife, how long?” Adam asked her after passing her the cause of her cute but bubbling outrage. I don’t think any of us were sure where this was coming from exactly or better still where it was even going but knowing Pip, then it could be anything and anywhere.

  “Since the launch of boring ass cornflakes in 1895, that’s when! Thank the beastie Gods for the 1960s and the birth of FrootLoops and Lucky Charms, that’s all I can say! And then there was the Cinnamon Toast Crunch fiasco in 1984, I mean what was I thinking?!” She complained and Adam crossed his arms as if waiting for the point but instead of pressing for it he simply stated what he thought was the obvious,

  “What did you expect Sweetheart, you don’t like Cinnamon.” I looked at Sophia, who was also another innocent bystander to this odd conversation and she rolled her eyes at me making me smile.

  “Well of course I know that but you know some people don’t eat grapes and still try the wine and besides, as a cereal connoisseur it is my duty to try them all, even the naff ones like Shreddies …I mean come on, does that sound nice to you…like eating square bits of bark a bear rubbed his ass against! Knitted by Nanas my ass, more like knitted by damn crazy squirrels with a vendetta against the human race!”

  “Okay, now I am really lost, as in more than I usually am around you Pip.” Sophia said after putting down her copy of Vogue and shooting a look of disbelief at our crazy friend.

  “I think I actually understand this one. The advert for Shreddies was a load of cute old woman knitting the cereal,” I informed her and she threw her hands up in the air and said sarcastically,

  “But of course”, making me laugh.

  “I am still at a loss, my love,” Adam said nodding towards the bowl that started this whole thing.

  “Milk!” She suddenly shouted making me jump. Sophia yet again just rolled her eyes like she had heard all this before and went back to her glossy magazine.

  “Milk? I think I am missing the point here, love.” At this she growled and slapped her dainty hands on the arm rests before hoisting herself up and squaring up to her husband. She then placed her hands on her hips and looked up at him.

  “The point, my big man pop, is that I have been eating cereal since1895 and forever and a day since been eating said cereal, I have done so with enough milk to fill every spoonful and still be left enough to tip my bowl up and have a refreshing drink at the end of my meal.” Adam looked down at her like he was trying very hard not to laugh at the sight of his little wife ranting on about milk as though it was the end of the world.

  “And that there is… Not. Enough. MILK!” After she shouted this and pointed to the bowl on the table, I had to confess I found myself doing the same thing as Adam after she added the foot stomp to make her point.

  “Is this another one of your odd ways of telling me you want sex?” he asked and if I had been swallowing my tea at the time I would have choked!

  “NO! This is my way of telling you that I NEED MORE MILK!” she shouted then snatched the bowl off the table and stomped back over towards the huge dining table that was laid out with every form of breakfast item you could imagine. She left her poor husband still dazed and confused standing next to where Sophia and I were sat looking exasperated.

  “Is she alright?” I asked him in a soft voice. He gave me a small smile and looked back at Pip over his shoulder before saying,

  “No, but I am sure she will get over it.” Then he bowed his head like the perfect gentleman at us both and left. I was just about to ask Sophia what all that was about when she said,

  “It’s the wedding.” I frowned for a second but before I could ask her to explain my brain clicked into place. I released a deep sigh telling Sophia I now understood. Shortly after I had returned back to myself and after Draven and I had hidden away in our room for a whole twenty-four hours, I had spent my time with those I loved and missed, Pip and Sophia being two of them. I remember smiling as it hadn’t taken Pip long before she had steered the conversation towards the upcoming human style wedding that it was obvious she was looking forward to.

  However, it didn’t take her long to lose her enthusiasm after I said I only wanted a small wedding and absolutely no way, no how, to what we Brits called a ‘Hen Do’, which was actually what Pip had been most excited about planning. This hadn’t exactly surprised me as she informed me that she had been doing research, which always meant a dangerous thing was brewing in Pip’s world. This was confirmed when she found out that a ‘Hen Do’ consisted of mostly, cocktails, strippers and cock shaped products, which translated to Pip as an excuse to create an X rated version of Disneyland for the night!

  “Shit.” I muttered looking over to her and seeing her angry milk pouring that sloshed all over the edges of the bowl. Poor Adam was trying to help but like a teenager discovering her first period she slammed the jug down and shouted,

  “Stop crowding me! I can do it!” To which he simply shrugged his shoulders and went to sit back down, no doubt hoping his wife’s shit storm would soon pass. I had never seen Pip like this and I didn’t know whether to stay strong with what I wanted, or in this case what I didn’t want or to just give in.

  “Would it really be so bad?” Sophia asked and when I looked back to her I noticed that she too was looking at our unhappy Pip. I felt awful and let my head roll back against the sofa I was sat on with a big sigh. I couldn’t help but feel stuck between a Demon rock, which was Draven and a hard little Imp that was one of my best friends.

  After waking up from being lost for nine months I found myself bombarded with hard feelings to face. Months of lost time that I simply wanted to get back and with it I found myself torn with guilt for what the people I loved had gone through. I was still in mourning for Jack, one of my dearest friends who could now be lost forever simply because he went in search of his friend. He had fallen into this sticky web of another world and become a victim of a hidden war between the light and the darkness. I remember the endless tears as it all slowly came back to me all that had happened to Jack and RJ. How Jack had been deceived by Celina, like the rest of us had and I couldn’t help but feel responsible.

  Since then Draven had all his people, those that were loyal to him, out looking for answers as to where the people responsible could be. Aurora was still in hiding and was at the lowest depths of Hell for all we knew. Jack was most likely with her, if he was still alive that was.

  I cried in Draven’
s arms for hours with him whispering words of promise to me as I eventually fell asleep through exhaustion. I remember waking up and my first thought was wondering how I would be able to face RJ, knowing what I knew and what she didn’t. They had thought it best for the moment to simply say he was missing and that they were doing everything in their power to get him back, which wasn’t exactly a lie.

  But he wasn’t the only one missing.

  So was Pythia.

  The night I first saw Katie in the mirror when she told me about the dream where the Oracle spoke to her, I had then left the room in search of her down in the Temple. I had been convinced that this had to be my time for finally finding out the truth of the prophecy and mostly what my part to play in it was. However, all I found was a vast open space and twisted old memories of death, destruction and a power balance tipped by the will of good versus evil. The fact that I became Draven’s wife there in the eyes of the Gods was unfortunately shadowed by all we had lost, which made it hard to see what had been gained.

  I didn’t want to feel this way. In fact I hated that I did and wept on the cold stone floor down there because of it. This was where Draven found me. I remember looking up as soon as I heard his footsteps and our desperate gazes met across the ancient room. He waited as one lone tear fell to the floor before crossing the room, cutting the space between us and simply picking me up to carry me back to our bedroom. He never said a word and neither did I. It wasn’t because there was nothing to say, it was because my tears said it all.