Corded (The Corded Saga Book 1) Read online

  Corded

  The Corded Saga

  Alyssa Rose Ivy

  Contents

  Copyright

  Books by Alyssa Rose Ivy

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Afterword

  DIRE: The Dire Wolves Chronicles

  Prologue

  Mary Anne

  Copyright © 2017 Alyssa Rose Ivy

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written approval of the author.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Cover Design: Phatpuppy Art

  Created with Vellum

  Books by Alyssa Rose Ivy

  Flight (The Crescent Chronicles #1)

  Focus (The Crescent Chronicles #2)

  Found (The Crescent Chronicles #3)

  First & Forever (The Crescent Chronicles #4)

  Soar (The Empire Chronicles #1)

  Search (The Empire Chronicles #2)

  Stay (The Empire Chronicles #3)

  Savor (The Empire Chronicles #4)

  Storm (The Empire Chronicles #5)

  Seduction’s Kiss (The Allure Chronicles #0.5)

  Lure (The Allure Chronicles #1)

  Lust (The Allure Chronicles #2)

  Lost (The Allure Chronicles #3)

  Love (The Allure Chronicles #4)

  Dire (The Dire Wolves Chronicles #1)

  Dusk (The Dire Wolves Chronicles #2)

  Dawn (The Dire Wolves Chronicles #3)

  Forged in Stone (The Forged Chronicles #1)

  Forged in Ice (The Forged Chronicles #2)

  Forged in Fire (The Forged Chronicles #3)

  Hunt (The Grizzly Brothers Chronicles #1)

  Heat (The Grizzly Brothers Chronicles #2)

  Corded (The Corded Saga #1)

  The Hazards of Skinny Dipping (Hazards)

  The Hazards of a One Night Stand (Hazards)

  The Hazards of Sex on the Beach (Hazards)

  The Hazards of Mistletoe (Hazards)

  The Hazards of Sleeping with a Friend (Hazards)

  Shaken Not Stirred (Mixology)

  On The Rocks (Mixology)

  Derailed (Clayton Falls)

  Veer (Clayton Falls)

  Wrecked (Clayton Falls)

  Beckoning Light (The Afterglow Trilogy #1)

  Perilous Light (The Afterglow Trilogy #2)

  Enduring Light (The Afterglow Trilogy #3)

  Life After Falling

  Full Moons and Mistletoe

  www.AlyssaRoseIvy.com

  www.facebook.com/AlyssaRoseIvy

  twitter.com/AlyssaRoseIvy

  New Release Newsletter

  [email protected]

  To anyone who has ever faced adversity.

  One

  There is nothing romantic about laundry. Nothing at all. I picked up a damp t-shirt and hung it on the line as I remembered when Quinn, my older sister, had refused to do the wash for that very reason. Her dramatic outbreak had even garnered a rare smile from our father. I wasn’t sure if I’d seen him smile again since, and it had been well over a year since my sister had even lived at home.

  Quinn had followed her quest for romance into an early marriage—one that my father whole heartedly supported, yet I’d fought against. My sister and I didn’t need to settle down with men when we had each other. Marriage and romance were the things of books—made up stories that filled the pages of the fairytales our mother left behind. If it had been up to my father, he would have burned the hardcover books covered in bright images of princesses in ball gowns and princes on steeds. He would have, but he didn’t. He could never say no to Quinn.

  I hung up the last of the clothes onto the line. I’d spent the better half of the morning bent over the washboard. Although there was some electricity available in our town, my father refused to let us use it. It would draw too much attention, and attention was the last thing we needed.

  Every piece of clothing I’d washed that day was off-white. The color of un-dyed cotton. We didn’t have the time or use for anything else. I didn’t mind the monochromatic colors of our clothes. When I wanted to see color I’d run out to the green grass of the meadow behind the house and stare up at the seemingly endless blue sky. It was only there—far away from the rest of my life— that I allowed myself to think about another life. But not Quinn. Quinn had thought about it constantly. She made her own make-up and jewelry while she endlessly daydreamed about meeting her Prince Charming. When Prince Charming never showed, she’d settled for the closest thing she could get.

  I pinned up one last shirt and took a seat on the old wooden stool. I was working ahead of schedule. If I could get my work done early I might get some time to read. The one guilty pleasure Quinn and I shared. The difference was she believed in the happy endings. I didn’t.

  The sound of a bell ringing made me freeze. After a sliver of a second of shock, I headed for the barn. That bell only meant one thing, and hesitating—even for a single moment—could be disastrous.

  I headed right for the loose floorboard, opening it up and sliding into the hole my father had dug for us years before. I covered myself with straw before replacing the heavy wooden board above me. I tried to steady my breathing. They’d be listening for it.

  I heard the crunch of boots outside and curled up into a ball. This wasn’t the first time the traders had been to our farm. They ran raids at least once a month, more if they heard about sightings. This was their third visit in two weeks. I’d been reckless and let a boy from outside town see me. Even wearing pants and a hooded tunic he’d known me for what I was, a girl.

  The barn door swung open before slamming into the wall. I pinched myself to stop the shaking. It might give me away.

  “We know there’s one here. I heard she might even be a blonde.” The scratchy voice came from across the barn. I could see a dark shadow through the floor boards. Maybe he wouldn’t walk all of the way in.

  “I don’t know where you got your information, but there is no girl here.” My younger brother’s voice filled the cavernous barn, and my chest tightened with fear. What was Thomas doing with the trader? He was going to get himself killed.

  A loud thump made me jump. “Quit the bullshit. Where’s the girl?”

  “No. Girl.”

  I realized with sickening certainly that the thump was Thomas being thrown into the barn wall. Based on his difficulty speaking, he was also being choked.

  Another bang. “If I find out you’re lying, you will be extinguished.”

  My stomach lurched, threatening to spill my breakfast. I bit down on my tongue in a desperate attempt to keep quiet.

  “Until then.” The trader laughed.

  I covered my ears, selfishly trying to block out the sounds of the beating I knew was occurring above me. If I actually believed the beating would stop with my appearance, I would hav
e shown myself in a second, but I knew it would help nothing. The male members of my family meant nothing to the traders; they’d kill them once they were no longer deemed useful. The trader only spared Thomas now in the hopes he’d give me away.

  As the door slammed closed I let my mind wander to my sister and niece. I hoped with everything I had that Benjamin had been able to hide them in time.

  “You can come out.” My father’s gentle voice calmed me. I brushed off the hay and moved the board.

  My father reached a hand down to pull me out. His eyes weren’t on me though. They were on a bloodied body across the barn.

  “Thomas!” I barely looked at my father before running to my brother. He was cut up and swollen. I cursed silently as I carefully touched the imprint of a boot over his forehead. Thomas was only fifteen—far too young to be forced to play the part of protector.

  “Oh, Thomas.” I pulled him into my arms. Relief flooded me when he moved his hand to grab my skirt.

  “It’s okay, Kayla.” He opened one of his grayish-blue eyes, and I cradled him against me.

  The tears spilled down my face. How was it okay? There was nothing okay about grown men beating up a teenage boy in search of a girl, but it was the norm when you lived in a society of ninety-nine percent men.

  I spent the entire night at Thomas’ bedside. I couldn’t bear to leave his side even though I knew the medicine my father had given him would keep him sound asleep all night.

  “You have to eat.” My father came to sit down next to me at the foot of the bed.

  “I don’t have an appetite.” I placed a hand on Thomas’ leg over the blanket. He looked so young lying there, but the welts and bruises on his face told a different story.

  “Benjamin and I decided it isn’t safe for Quinn to come see Thomas yet. We can’t have you all in the same place.” My father’s eyes filled with unshed tears.

  I nodded. “Quinn shouldn’t see him this way. She has too much to worry about with Bailey.” I thought about Quinn’s little girl.

  “Sometimes it sounds like you’re the older sister.”

  I tried to smile, but it was a pitiful attempt. “I promised Mom I’d always be there for Quinn, and I will be.”

  “You also promised your mother you wouldn’t cut your hair short—and I don’t agree with that promise.”

  “She didn’t want us to lose ourselves. She wanted us to resist.”

  “At what cost? It only makes you more of a target.” His eyes reflected a mix of anger and hurt. He loved my mother as much as a man could love a woman, but he didn’t like the legacy she left with us. It was more than her fairytales that filled Quinn’s mind with dreams. She’d hated our life in hiding, and she’d told us every chance she had we needed to strive for more.

  “I was a wearing a hood when I saw the boy.” I looked away, too ashamed to face my father.

  “This wasn’t your fault.” He put a gentle hand on my shoulder. Everything about him was gentle except when it came to protecting his girls.

  “Yes it was. I should have been more careful. I shouldn’t have left the farm during daylight.”

  “You were bringing medicine to your sick niece. It’s not as though you were out gallivanting.” He gestured wildly with his hands.

  “Gallivanting? I don’t think I’ve heard you use that one before.” I closed my eyes, giving myself a single moment to recharge. I opened them right back up.

  His lips twisted into just a hint of a smile. My father’s face was wrinkled from years working the fields in the hot Georgia sun. He’d been a farmer his whole life. His parents had moved from the city right as the clubs took over. They were one of the few families reproducing like normal—therefore they were a target.

  “If you won’t eat, you should at least rest.”

  “I should. With Thomas in bed I’ll need to help in the fields tomorrow.” I smoothed the blue quilt again.

  “Absolutely not! That’s exactly what the traders are hoping for.”

  “I can’t stay inside forever.”

  “I will not lose you.” He pulled me into his arms. “I lost your mother; I won’t lose you girls.”

  “You won’t. I promise.” It wasn’t a promise I could keep, but it’s what he needed to hear.

  “Have you thought more about Jonathan?” His eyes pleaded with me to give him a particular answer.

  I swallowed hard. My family came above my own desires even if the thought of marriage made me sick to my stomach. I never wanted to be at the mercy of someone else, and that was all a marriage in our world could be. We were a prisoner of whatever men protected us. I preferred my father to any other man. “I’ll do anything you want me to do.”

  “He can keep you safe. He has the resources and the land. You know I’d only give you to someone I could trust.” My father’s voice sounded strained. He didn’t want to be having the discussion any more than I did. He knew how I felt about the subject.

  I patted his arm. “I know. But I’m still so young.”

  He shook his head. “You’re eighteen.”

  “Once upon a time that was young.”

  “Once upon a time? Have you been reading those old books in the attic again?”

  I smiled, for real this time. “I love those books. They were Mom’s.”

  “She’d be glad you enjoy them even if they do fill your head with unrealistic thoughts.” He stood. “Don’t stay up too late.”

  “I won’t.”

  He left, closing the door behind him. He knew I’d be spending the night with Thomas. There was no chance I’d leave my brother alone.

  Two

  Three weeks later

  “Another letter from Ethan? Does this one have money too?” I refused to even look at the letter tucked inside the bright white envelope. We couldn’t get regular post anymore, but occasionally a letter for us would be delivered to the local tavern. Even as the human population neared extinction, bars and taverns were still in business.

  “More money than last time.” Thomas sat at the long wooden kitchen table and pulled out the crisp bills from a piece of mail addressed to my father but designed for my eyes.

  “Put them away. I know we need more money, but I won’t touch anything from him.” Ethan’s name brought back painful memories I didn’t like to think about. He was my one folly, the only one who ever made me think love was possible. He was also the one to show me how silly that thought ever was.

  “You’re right about one thing. We need it.” Thomas’ face had started to heal, but even after three weeks the boot imprint was still visible.

  “I’m surprised he even remembers us.”

  “Of course he remembers us.” Thomas nudged me with his shoulder. “He especially remembers you.” Moments like these gave glimpses of Thomas’ youthfulness. I missed his toothy smile. Like everyone else, he didn’t have many occasions to use it anymore.

  “Ethan made his choice when he left. You know Father would have consented to a marriage between us if he’d been willing to wait a few more years. I was only your age.” I tried to keep the bitterness from my voice, but it was impossible.

  “He was stupid. What man would turn down the promise of a woman of his own?” Thomas read through the handwritten letter. I was way beyond caring if he read any personal sentiments.

  “I think he realized that around the same time he discovered the city wasn’t full of thousands of women like he thought.” I wished my voice didn’t sound so cold, but Ethan had hurt me in a way I didn’t think anyone could. He’d rejected me for only the chance of something better.

  We’d all grown up together. He lived on the farm next to ours, and like most kids he was an only child. With so few children being born, it was almost unbelievable my mother had three, including two girls. Ethan had counted himself lucky to get to spend time with two girls, but he always paid the most attention to me.

  I’d made the mistake of reading the first few letters from Ethan. They started within months of him leavin
g. As soon as he realized things weren’t as wonderful in the city as he hoped, he wanted to come home. He wanted me. I wasn’t willing to be any man’s consolation prize, and my father wouldn’t have allowed it. What if he’d changed his mind again? Father wanted stability for his daughters, and Ethan was the furthest possible from that.

  “He says he’d come back if he knew he could have you.” Thomas set aside the letter.

  “As if. You know I’m going to Jonathan. Ethan gave up his chance when he got on the train that day.”

  “There’s worse people than Jonathan.” Thomas didn’t need to say what he was really thinking. At least I’d have a marriage. The population was only dwindling further, and as far as we knew, there were no other girls within a hundred miles of us anymore. The traders had seen to that. They’d sold off most of the girls to the elite clubs of the city. The other ones, the ones who could bear children, were given to Central. Our government allowed trading as long as all breeders went to them. Central claimed to be doing everything to save humanity, but rounding up women and children for purposes of breeding and experimentation was inhumane. Allowing the sale of the non-fertile was just as bad. We feared Central as much as we feared the traders.

  “I know.” Thomas was right. Jonathan was nice enough, but he barely ever made eye contact with me. He wanted me for one thing, and one thing only—sex. My father pretended not to see it. It wasn’t that he didn’t care. He wanted me safe. I couldn’t fault him for that.

  “I hope you don’t leave soon. I’d miss you.” Thomas smiled in that way that brought his dimple out.

  “I’d still come home, and you could come over anytime.” Jonathan lived less than five miles from us. He was further away than Benjamin but still within walking distance.

  “I know, but it wouldn’t be the same.” Thomas picked up the letter again.

  “Throw out that letter. I don’t want to see it.”

  “Are you sure?” He turned the envelope in his hand.