Soul Fire Read online

 

   

   

  Soul Fire

  The Soul Trilogy #1

   

  Aprille Legacy

   

   

   

   

   

  Soul Fire

   

  Second Edition

  Copyright © Aprille Legacy

   

  The moral right of the author has been asserted

   

  ISBN 13: 9781492709589

   

  ISBN: 1492709581

   

   

   

  Front cover image by Moosified Images

  Cover design by E.J Duykers, R.A Dutton and L.C Ellis

   

   

   

  This is a work of fiction. All characters are fictitious. Any resemblance to any persons living or deceased is coincidental.

   

  For a limited time, log onto aprillelegacy.com and receive the second book in the trilogy for free!

   

   

   

   

   

   

  For those who wouldn’t let me give up and drove this dream. For all the Goodreaders who read and liked this work online before I’d ever thought of publishing.

  For my mother, who always read a book in my presence and taught me how to make a cup of tea.

  For the friends who’ve stuck by me through thick and thin, because there are ups and downs in every friendship.

  For anyone who dares to dream.

   

   

  Table of Contents

  ~Chapter One~

  ~Chapter Two~

  ~Chapter Three~

  ~Chapter Four~

  ~Chapter Five~

  ~Chapter Six~

  ~Chapter Seven~

  ~Chapter Eight~

  ~Chapter Nine~

  ~Chapter Ten~

  ~Chapter Eleven~

  ~Chapter Twelve~

  ~Chapter Thirteen~

  ~Chapter Fourteen~

  ~Chapter Fifteen~

  ~Chapter Sixteen~

  ~Chapter Seventeen~

  ~Chapter Eighteen~

  ~Chapter Nineteen~

  ~Chapter Twenty~

  ~Chapter Twenty-One~

  ~Chapter Twenty-Two~

  ~Chapter Twenty-Three~

  ~Epilogue~

   

   

   

   

  ~Chapter One~

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

  “Rose!” My eyes snapped open at the exact moment my chin slipped off of my hand. I caught myself from slamming into the desk, just in time to hear Mr Burgess sigh loudly. “Again, Rose? Do I need to talk to your mother?”

  All of the other students sniggered at me as I scowled.

  “No, sir,” I said quickly. Sleeping in class was my mother’s idea of committing a crime.

  Mr Burgess turned to the board, droning about something I was supposed to be paying attention to. I yawned, bored already.

   In my hometown of Ar Cena, nothing was out of the ordinary. Nestled in-between two hills, in a tiny, spring fed valley, the biggest thing to happen was the annual agricultural festival.

  “I need that assignment handed up as well,” Mr Burgess levelled a gaze at me that I pointedly avoided. “It was due two weeks ago.”

  “Sorry, I was in the city.” I replied lamely, staring out the window again. He let the non-excuse go, though he sighed as he turned back to the front of the class.

  I had in fact been at the river again, watching the birds glide in the sky and wishing that I could join them. Wanting to soar as one of them, knowing that I wasn’t going to be stuck here in this town forever. To know that one day I would be different… that I would be free.

  I dragged myself from class to class, the other students ignoring me. I longed for the bell that would signal the end of this hellish prison sentence, so that I might make it back to my car and drive towards the river, catching a few moments of peace with my book and to breathe in the fresh valley air and the silence that came with it.

  By the time I reached my final class of the day, I was more than ready to go. I sat next to the window that was permanently open, feeling the breeze on my face, knowing that my sentence would soon be served.

  I propped my feet up on the chair next to me, feeling so comfortable that I was in danger of snoozing again. My eyes raked the tree line, searching for something, anything, to break the monotony of everyday school life.

  It was then I noticed him watching me.

  A man stood just behind the line of trees. He leant easily against one of the trunks, dark hair falling into his eyes. I shivered as his gaze fell on me and our eyes met.

  The bell rang and I turned instinctively towards the door. By the time I looked back, the man was gone and my mind had already given him up as a figment of my imagination.

   I grabbed my bag and fled for the doorway, out of my seat before anyone else was. Everyone ignored the teacher’s feeble bleats for everyone to stay seated, his voice lost in the gabble of twenty teenagers at the end of a school day.

  Once in the parking lot I headed for my car, and it was as I neared my little white Hyundai that I noticed the school jerks eyeing me off on the path; something about their shifty eyes and muffled giggles gave them away. In my peripheral vision I noticed someone seated in the car in the lot behind mine and sighed. I would have to wait for them to reverse and that would mean waiting for someone – a student driver at that - to do a thousand-point turn.

  It was only as I unlocked the driver’s door and slid into my seat that I realised the other driver would have had plenty of time to move. It was only after I had turned on the ignition and started reversing that the car behind me did the same. I suddenly realised the intent of their ‘prank’.

  Honestly, this was the extent of their intelligence.

  I wound down the window.

  “Seriously?” I asked them incredulously.

  They burst into fits of laughter. I rolled my eyes but I could feel my temper beginning to prickle. I grit my teeth, and stamped on the accelerator. My car shot backwards, the car behind me mimicking me, forcing me to stop. I still didn’t have enough room to do a three point turn, so I was trapped.

  The prickle increased to an itch. I felt my foot press down again and this time I had no intention of braking. I watched in the rear-view mirror as the driver of the car opposite realised what I planned to do, his eyes widening a second before the impact. My car hit his, shattering both of our brake lights and giving him well earned whiplash. I saw his frightened eyes glance into his mirror, straight into mine, and I couldn’t resist giving him a smile and thumbs up. I spun the wheel and drove out of the parking lot, leaving a damaged car and boys with damaged egos behind me.