Ancient Blood: The Fallen Read Online Free
Author: Renea Taylor
injustice of the world, I found myself being placed within yet another foster home.
I’d expected nothing less than what I’d already become acquainted with in the others, having in fact, not even unpacked for the first several weeks I was on the Lambros Ranch, my tiny clutch of clothing remaining in the small, cheap chain store plastic bags as I'd fully expected each day to see the old and battered orphanage station wagon pulling up outside the Ranch-house, prepared to whisk me back to the orphanage, once again having been unwanted by my foster family.
You see, over the past several years my clothing and I had been carted from orphanage, to foster home and then back to the orphanage, before being placed, yet again, in another foster home, leaving me to feel as if I never really belonged anywhere.
In truth I hadn't , for with each placement, I quickly became unwelcome and feared, for I often woke screaming in the wee hours of the morning, suffering strange nightmares and leaving those that lived within the home distressed from the strange unexplained events within the home, for often small fires would flare up out of nowhere during these times.
It was only within the walls of the Lambros home though, that I began to find what it was like to be held and comforted. To be soothed, and receive understanding when I would wake from the horrible visions that held my mind shackled tightly within their grasp, awaken wrapped securely within the fatherly arms of Miles, or the brotherly embraces of either Arreon or Luke, even, on the odd occasion, those of Dante’s.
Slowly however, and over time, months in fact, as I was reluctant to lower my guard, not trusting the authenticity of anything lasting, and fearing that if I did relent, the strange fires would begin again, bringing about the occurrence of being vanquished back to the orphanage, I allowed myself to open up and respond to the warmth and patience I was shown. To at last, feel !
Then it happened. What I feared most began to occur. The internal storms of my ability begun to attack the house, and I again retreated into my shell, fearful my secret had doomed me. However, as the burnt items that dotted about the house were replaced without fuss, the odd fires declared to be expected of old wiring that was within the house, days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months.
Time passed, and as I found myself still part of the Lambros home, I began to flower again, for I was part of a family, a real family.
Months went by, months that turned into years, and with each winters end, a new year begun, bringing forth the blossoming of springs and the multitude of greens and brilliant splashes of heady scented floral.
Greens and floras that burnt to crisps, as and before anyone was quite ready, summers would come upon the Ranch, breathing its hot breath across our flesh and scorching the land we toiled upon, and where after, we would ease those hot grueling days by rewarding ourselves with languishing laziness in the small tributaries within the bayous, and ending the evenings gazing up at the stars, breathing the sweet scent of the freshly cut hay that floated on the whispering breezes.
I truly belonged somewhere at last, and did my best to harness my ability out of respect to my home, and the man that I'd come to look upon as my dad, or that was to keep it controlled to the best of my ability.
Arreon and Luke had, as well, became true siblings, for we fussed and fought as only brothers and a sister could. However, Dante and I were never quite able reach that comfortable area in our relationship, for something different simmered between us, and as nature would have it, it was Dante that broke my heart.
Chapter 3
We don't receive wisdom; we must discover it for ourselves after a journey no one can take for us or spare us.
…Marcel Proust
2008 Baton Rouge Louisiana
Five years pass
“…The soul known to us as Miles Lambros we
I’d expected nothing less than what I’d already become acquainted with in the others, having in fact, not even unpacked for the first several weeks I was on the Lambros Ranch, my tiny clutch of clothing remaining in the small, cheap chain store plastic bags as I'd fully expected each day to see the old and battered orphanage station wagon pulling up outside the Ranch-house, prepared to whisk me back to the orphanage, once again having been unwanted by my foster family.
You see, over the past several years my clothing and I had been carted from orphanage, to foster home and then back to the orphanage, before being placed, yet again, in another foster home, leaving me to feel as if I never really belonged anywhere.
In truth I hadn't , for with each placement, I quickly became unwelcome and feared, for I often woke screaming in the wee hours of the morning, suffering strange nightmares and leaving those that lived within the home distressed from the strange unexplained events within the home, for often small fires would flare up out of nowhere during these times.
It was only within the walls of the Lambros home though, that I began to find what it was like to be held and comforted. To be soothed, and receive understanding when I would wake from the horrible visions that held my mind shackled tightly within their grasp, awaken wrapped securely within the fatherly arms of Miles, or the brotherly embraces of either Arreon or Luke, even, on the odd occasion, those of Dante’s.
Slowly however, and over time, months in fact, as I was reluctant to lower my guard, not trusting the authenticity of anything lasting, and fearing that if I did relent, the strange fires would begin again, bringing about the occurrence of being vanquished back to the orphanage, I allowed myself to open up and respond to the warmth and patience I was shown. To at last, feel !
Then it happened. What I feared most began to occur. The internal storms of my ability begun to attack the house, and I again retreated into my shell, fearful my secret had doomed me. However, as the burnt items that dotted about the house were replaced without fuss, the odd fires declared to be expected of old wiring that was within the house, days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months.
Time passed, and as I found myself still part of the Lambros home, I began to flower again, for I was part of a family, a real family.
Months went by, months that turned into years, and with each winters end, a new year begun, bringing forth the blossoming of springs and the multitude of greens and brilliant splashes of heady scented floral.
Greens and floras that burnt to crisps, as and before anyone was quite ready, summers would come upon the Ranch, breathing its hot breath across our flesh and scorching the land we toiled upon, and where after, we would ease those hot grueling days by rewarding ourselves with languishing laziness in the small tributaries within the bayous, and ending the evenings gazing up at the stars, breathing the sweet scent of the freshly cut hay that floated on the whispering breezes.
I truly belonged somewhere at last, and did my best to harness my ability out of respect to my home, and the man that I'd come to look upon as my dad, or that was to keep it controlled to the best of my ability.
Arreon and Luke had, as well, became true siblings, for we fussed and fought as only brothers and a sister could. However, Dante and I were never quite able reach that comfortable area in our relationship, for something different simmered between us, and as nature would have it, it was Dante that broke my heart.
Chapter 3
We don't receive wisdom; we must discover it for ourselves after a journey no one can take for us or spare us.
…Marcel Proust
2008 Baton Rouge Louisiana
Five years pass
“…The soul known to us as Miles Lambros we
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