She was also infinitely grateful not to be the sole mother present. Aedre’s distended stomach proclaimed there’d soon be another playmate for Lucian.
Melita told them her story, amidst numerous interruptions as the women exclaimed over the details. They also shared tidbits about their mates. All save Cassie, who was content with her “pets” or so she claimed. Dozens of furred creatures roamed about the living space. Even a bird flapped its wings in one corner.
“There,” Aedre proclaimed as she finished Melita’s hair.
Cassie helped her into a lovely gown of dark green silk. “You are stunning,” she declared, and the other women agreed with murmurs of approval.
“It’s a shame it’ll be ruined once that centaurs gets his hooves on you.” Kyme winked at her. Melita’s cheeks flushed. The amazon was right. Thereus would tear this dress to pieces.
A sharp knock pounded at the door. Cassie opened it, and the Water Borne male named Kai announced, “Time’s up, ladies. That is one impatient centaur.” He grinned at Melita while the women laughed. Her cheeks flamed once more.
“Bonded males.” Kyme huffed.
They ushered her out of the cabin and through the village, toward the lake. At the end of a dock, her centaur paced. Behind him, the vast ocean sparkled as if the sun dropped diamonds onto its surface. A handful of sleek vessels bobbed with the currents off to his right, framing the perfect scene. Spectators gathered on the land, mermaydes floated in the water, and in the distance, a musician strummed a harp.
His gaze solely on her, Thereus, her magnificent centaur, waited to make her his bride.
***
Even the drink Thereus shared with Arsenius while they’d spent the hour conversing had done nothing to calm him. He’d waited more than mere weeks for this—an eternity.
Melita stole his breath as she glided to him in a dark green dress that perfectly accentuated her feminine curves and the rich mahogany of her hair and eyes. I’d wed her in a paper sack. He’d trekked through Hell to be here and he’d do it a thousand times more. Just to hold her. To kiss her. To love her.
True, it would have been nice to have his family at his wedding, but the people of Halcyon were his family as well.
This time the ceremony was quick. Thereus never had a chance to feel nervous. Within minutes, they’d both spoken their vows and he was kissing her. Nothing had ever tasted as sweet as Melita’s lips. Fire seared his bonding mark, completing the ritual. He reined in his horse, remembering the spectators. There’d be enough time for that. Very shortly.
Pulling back, he peered into her shining eyes. Melita. His Melita. So beautiful, so brave, yet such a gentle soul. How could he ever have mistaken her for anything but his mate?
“No matter what form you take, you’ll never hide from me again. Come here, me buxom beauty.” Flashing her a wicked grin, he scooped her in his arms and carted her off. The crowds parted with cheers and howls of encouragement. While he carried her, his nymph set about using her seductive talents, diverting his strength into that part of him which would claim her endlessly.
Damn, but returning to his home was the best decision he’d ever made.
He was one lucky centaur. One lucky centaur indeed.
*****
Olympian – the lingua franca (common tongue) of the gods and their descendants.
potamoi – a river demon
raptio – sexual slaves
Adrasteia – Arsenius’s brigantine. Named after his half-sister, the goddess of revenge and balance.
morphos – a shift in form, whether permanent or temporary. E.g. when a centaur changes form from a centaur to a human, he undergoes the morphos.
chalkos, argyros, and chrysos – three passwords to the symposium, meaning copper, silver, and gold.
asphodelus, eros, aionios – three passwords to Halcyon, meaning daffodil, love, and eternal.
lyssa – a madness affecting centaurs, especially related to an incomplete bonding.
melita – term of endearment meaning“honey-sweet”.
quarter – pyrate term for “mercy”.
Old Centaurion – an ancient centaur language.
Meliae – honey nymphs.
I could not be happier to be publishing the second story in my Halcyon Romance Series. I love exploring this crazy world of Greek mythology and I’m so excited to finally share my lusty centaur Thereus with everyone.
Thank you to all of the members of the FTHRW critique group who read through early versions of this story and helped shape it.
I couldn’t have done this without the support and encouragement of my lovely beta readers—Ashley, Nicola, Bonnie, April, and Gina. Love you, ladies!
To my amazing street team, Rachael’s Rush Hour, I truly appreciate your endless enthusiasm.
Thank you to my awesome review team for “hugging” me with all of your fantastic reviews.
As always, thank you to my wonderful copy editor, Kelley Heckart, for your great insights. A big thanks to NovelArt Designs for this gorgeous cover!
Karie, my ninja PA, you are the best sounding board, hand-holder, and cheerleader any author could hope for. I’m so lucky you’re mine!
Thanks to my family for always sticking with me through the long hours and hard work. Hugs and kisses.
And a huge thank you to my readers for making all of this worthwhile. Dream on!
Rachael has explored forgotten temples in Cambodia, kissed the Blarney Stone in Ireland, and stood inside the Roman Coliseum. She loves studying people and cultures, current and ancient. Her appetite for romance began with Lucy Maud Montgomery’s Anne of Green Gables, which she later nurtured with a healthy dose of Jane Austen.
As a writer of scorching hot fantasy romance, Rachael blends the lines between mythology, reality, and fantasy. In her worlds, you’ll encounter strong, sexy alpha males and the capable women who challenge them. If her heroines can’t meet their heroes toe-to-toe, then they’ll bring them to their knees.
No matter what torture she puts her characters through, true love will always prevail. Love is, after all, the most powerful force on Earth, and beyond.
Rachael holds an Honours BA in anthropology, as well as a CELTA. Her secret indulgence is her passion for baking, which she offsets with her addiction to running (she’s completed four marathons). She resides on the West Coast of British Columbia, Canada, with her husband, two children, cat, and dog.
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BOOK 1: TRANCING THE TIGER
BOOK 1.5: REMATCH
BOOK 2: BY THE HORNS
BOOK 2.5: MATCH ME LATER
BOOK 3: REINING HIM IN
BOOK 3.5: MATCHING DRAGONS
BOOK 4: IN WOLF’S CLOTHING
BOOK 1: MOON BORNE
BOOK 2: EARTH BORNE
BOOK 3: WATER BORNE
BOOK 4: METAL BORNE
BOOK 5: WIND BORNE
Want more Halcyon Romance? Read on for an exclusive sneak peek at the first chapter from Book 3, WATER BORNE:
Her path has been woven, and it doesn’t include him
Mermayde Essa has sworn allegiance to the sun god Apollo. To prove she’s ready to become his head Oracle, the Pythia, she agrees to infiltrate her enemy’’s sanctuary, Hal
cyon. Using a powerful amulet as bait, she convinces the Wind Borne Nazrin to give her passage. A winged male from a race adversarial to her own, the darkly alluring Nazrin is anything but her enemy—he’s her fated mate. And he’s everything she’s been warned against—mysterious, seductive, and tempting enough to make her challenge the gods.
What the Fates declare, always comes to pass
No one knows the consequences of a pact with Hades, Lord of the Underworld, like Nazrin does. The lovely and bewitching beauty Essa might be his mate, but the Fates have proclaimed she’s doomed to betray him, Halcyon, and the gods of the Underworld. When Hades threatened to eliminate Essa before the prophecy could be fulfilled, Nazrin traded his life for hers. Now, he’ll have to risk his future—and hers—to change her destiny.
One false move will cost them their hearts, their lives, and their souls
When their loyalties draw a line between them, they’ll either have to surrender to being the pawns of the gods, or rise up and fight for their love, even if means defying the Fates themselves.
Spring, the Ionian Sea
The twenty-third cycle of the current Pythia
Or the human year, 1691
Just an inch more. Essa gritted her teeth and fought the burning pain radiating up her arm as she extended her fingers. One, two, three. She flicked her wrist and the chain slipped, knocked loose from the loop of mesh. With a resounding thud, the amulet landed on the deck below. Out of her reach. Just as she’d intended.
Perfect.
She blew out a satisfied breath and concentrated on her dire situation. She was trapped. In a fisherman’s net. With hundreds of other fish. Others like her, well, partly like her at least.
She was one of the Water Borne, a mermayde, her blood as ancient as the oceans themselves.
Clenching her hands, she waited, repeating in her mind the story her aunt Cassandra had fabricated for this mission. The waves had carried a frightened sea turtle’s hissing to her ears and she’d been compelled to aid the creature ensnared in a gillnet set by the Earth Borne creatures. Humans.
Alas, in her aunt’s tale, she’d dropped the shell fragment she’d used to free the turtle. Foolish Essa. If she’d been paying attention, rather than lost in her own thoughts, she would’ve listened to that tingle of foreboding, would have sensed the hundreds of gleaming fish closing in around her. Pyrates were more common than fishing boats in this area, so she hadn’t been watching for nets.
She was a perfect damsel in distress.
Now she waited to be rescued.
Slowly, almost painfully so, they’d been hauled upward. The thrashing of the fish escalated as the surface—and death—neared.
Blush-scaled red mullets enclosed her on all sides, floundering while the net swayed from side to side, suspended over the edge of a large vessel. Pressed against the mesh rope of the net as she was, the threads sliced into the delicate flesh of her tail, making her wince. Instinctively, her hand clasped her throat for her mother’s amulet, and she cursed as it taunted her from the ship’s deck.
Closing her eyes, she envisioned the intricate chain enclosed in her fingers, her thumb rubbing across the lustrous white pearl floating in the center of a teardrop silver frame. Over the etchings of runes in an ancient language she’d never seen anywhere else. I have to get it back. Essa sighed deeply and steeled her resolve. I will.
The missing necklace would play an integral role in her damsel story. When she’d tossed it off, the chain had caught on a loop of mesh and she’d had to knock it loose to ensure the amulet landed on the deck below.
This was a final test to earn her place as Apollo’s next head Oracle—the Pythia. The ruse was a role she’d been all too eager to play…until last night.
Shuddering, she cut out the echo of voices from her mind. If she couldn’t trust in her aunt and her god, Apollo, then she had nothing to hold on to.
And this mission would fail.
With it, the fate of the entire world would crumble.
Apollo’s rays fell warm across her skin in reassurance. She’d agreed to use the powerful amulet as bait for her rescuer, but the necklace meant so much more to her. Their plan couldn’t fail. She must get it back. The amulet was all she possessed of the mother she had never met. With it gone, emptiness enveloped her.
I will retrieve it, Mother. I promise. She often found herself imagining conversations with the human woman who had died giving birth to her.
She cleared her mind and focused once more on her current dilemma. She was on the far side, facing out to the ocean, so the net and fish shielded her from the eyes of the humans on board. For now. She couldn’t see them, but she smelled them. Ugh. Wrinkling her nose, she attempted to block out the foul scents of their grime and sweat. She had more urgent concerns at the moment than the humans’ aversion to bathing.
She huffed in frustration. When would this rescuer come?
From the safety of the ocean, she’d watched the human fishermen for years. The catch would be examined and the undesirables thrown back into the sea. She shuddered to think what the men would do to her—once they recovered from the shock of snaring a mermayde.
Revealing her race to humans was forbidden. If one saw her, she would be punished. By whom? My father? She sneered at the thought. This is not his ocean. Lord Nereus will never find me here. Apollo will shelter me from him. I must have faith.
She stretched her neck and tried to spot the top of the net. What if the rescuer didn’t come? How would she free herself? Think. Think. Thought proved impossible in here. All around her, the fish writhed, gulping for the water, and therefore oxygen, they would not receive. She pitied them, but she could do nothing for them.
Think. Think. Her heart pulsed faster and faster. The sun beat down on her. Sweat beaded on her skin. Air, must have air. Essa gasped for breath with the others.
The fish and their promise of death invaded her mind. Her body trembled as panic overwhelmed her senses. Her composure fragmented while instinct assumed control.
Breathe, just breathe. Blackness threatened to overtake her vision.
A flash of silver glinted against the sun, blinding her. The sawing of rope vibrated in her ears. The weight of the fish behind her propelled her body downward. A solid hook snared her waist, tightened, and wrenched her from the net.
Instead of crashing into the sea, she was hurtling through the air, her breath sucked from her lungs. A new terror rippled through her body.
Breathe, a rumbling masculine voice commanded inside her head. Unable to resist, she gasped and choked. Tears stinging her eyes, she managed a small mouthful of air. She exhaled, then inhaled again and again. Her stomach heaved against the combination of the tight hold around her waist and the rapid movements.
Remain conscious. Concentrate. In and out. There, it’s getting better. Now open your eyes.
Were those her own thoughts, or someone else’s inside her head? She slammed another bolt through the mental locks in the depths of her mind. Her aunt had spent countless hours instructing her, so the reaction came with as much ease as the beating of her heart.
Still, the advice was sound, so she obeyed the commands. Shimmering hues of green, gray, and blue whirled unbelievably fast a hundred feet beneath her. She squeezed her eyes shut as bile rose once more in her throat.
Fish do not fly! A hysterical laugh bubbled on the edge of her lips. This could not be her rescuer.
It must be a dream. It had to be.
She scoffed at her absurd imagination, swallowed her trepidation, and once more opened her eyes.
An ominous shadow fell across the ocean below.
Her heart dropped into her stomach and shot back up again, strangling her. She turned her head to the right and to the left. Wings loomed on either side of her. They were massive, spanning at least ten, mayhap twelve feet.
Except, the creature carrying her was not a giant bird. It was a man.
Not a dream, then. A nightmare.
Terror froze
the blood in her veins. The thundering of her pulse in her ears drowned out the sound of waves crashing against the rocky cliffs. This male could not be the target of her mission. He must be an intruder. Surely her aunt would have warned her, or at least prepared her.
Wouldn’t she?
The male carrying her was a Wind Borne. Her people’s timeless enemy.
Born of a race as ancient as hers, the Anemoi, gods of the four winds, were their ancestors. Like the Water Borne, the Wind Borne was also a descendant species, the millennia-old product of gods interbreeding with humans.
Whereas the Water Borne were half fish, and able to manipulate the powers of the ocean, the Winged Ones were in tune with their animal halves, the raptors—birds of prey.
They were a bedtime story told to disobedient children, to frighten them into staying away from the surface of the sea. Given Essa’s penchant for exploration, her aunt made tales of the Wind Borne a nightly recitation.
What had her aunt instructed?
If she saw one, swim. If she had to fight, she must kill it, or it would surely kill her.
Every few months, some crazed myrman or mermayde would race through the corals, shrieking with terrified eyes and ranting about seeing the shadow of a giant pair of wings.
Some claimed they were monstrously ugly, with razor-sharp talons and a ravenous appetite for fresh fish. Being half fish, the Water Borne and their children were fair prey.
What was worse than being trapped in a fisherman’s net, unable to move or formulate an escape? She shook her head and refused to believe the answer, to accept who had taken her.
Where is he taking me? What will he do with me? Calm. I must remain calm. Apollo won’t let him harm me.
Earth Borne Page 28