by Amy Sumida
“Well, that will help.” I looked back at Drostan.
“Would anyone mind if my queen and I took a few moments alone, to say goodbye?” Drostan asked.
“Of course not,” Trenton said generously.
“It will give us time to have the new contract written,” Tana added as she passed the corrected papers to Albert.
“But first, I'd like to finish breakfast,” I said. “I'm starving.”
“I'm sure you are, Sister,” Tana said with a smirk. “You've had quite a long night.”
“And an exciting morning.” I smirked back.
“Yes; the entire camp is aware of your husbands' prowess.” Tana chuckled. “And the excitement shall continue. When we return to Seelie, we will celebrate your marriage more appropriately and have you crowned Princess of Seelie.”
“Eat up.” Conall nudged me playfully. “You're going to need your strength.”
Chapter Forty-Nine
“Have you truly forgiven me for all I've done to you?” Drostan asked me as soon as we were alone in the wedding tent.
“I've forgiven you, but it may take some time for me to forget,” I said softly.
“Will four months be long enough?” He smiled wryly.
“It may be.” I slid into his arms and sighed; hugging him was so much better when I did it simply because I wanted to.
“What a change a day has made,” Drostan whispered into my hair. “I admit that it's not as I would have wanted, but I believe that things are exactly as I need them to be.”
“They're definitely as I need them to be,” I said saucily.
“You came back for me,” Drostan said tenderly as he lowered his forehead to mine. “I could hardly believe it. I had come so close to making you mine, and then—just as you were within my grasp—you left me. You broke my heart, Riley; completely shattered me.”
“I can't apologize for that,” I said.
“And I wouldn't want you to.” Drostan lifted his head to look at me. “I needed you to leave so that I could appreciate you even more. I wouldn't have known the depths of my love for you if you hadn't torn apart my heart and revealed it. And I wouldn't have been open to the idea of sharing you either.”
“I had wondered if you would go for it,” I admitted. “I came back praying that you would put aside your possessiveness.”
“I wanted you more than my pride,” he said softly. “And I'm glad I gave in. Without you, I would have grown bitter and probably would have waged war on Seelie just to assuage my anger. I definitely would have fought Trenton to the death.”
I stared at Drostan silently; contemplating how close I had come to losing one of them. If I had kept riding to Castle Seelie, this morning would have been one of endless grief. I shivered at the thought of that dark, averted future.
“I'm glad you gave in too,” I finally said just before I kissed him gently.
“I know that you don't love me yet,” Drostan whispered. “But I'm going to do everything within my power to prove to you that I'm worthy of your love.”
“Drostan”—I shook my head—“I don't need any proof. I know that you're worthy of love; I wouldn't have returned to you if I didn't. Just be who you are; the real you. I've seen glimpses of that man beneath your pride and arrogance. Be true to yourself, and neither of us will be disappointed.”
“If it's the real me you want, then that is precisely who you'll get,” Drostan purred as he lifted my skirts. “And the real me wants to make love to his wife.”
“We don't have time to make love.” I pushed Drostan away, and his face fell. But then I bent over our dining table and pulled up my skirts. I looked over my shoulder at Drostan and said, “Fuck me, Husband.”
Drostan's smile was both lascivious and loving.
Epilogue
Both the schedule and our marriage worked. The four of us are very happy together, and Tirne is experiencing peace that it hasn't known for thousands of years. Queen Tana was right; I became the darling of the kingdoms. The Fey people see me as a living symbol of the peace and prosperity of Tirne; not to mention an image of fairy love. My husbands and I have overcome enormous odds to be together, and Tirne loved our triumph.
My husbands take me back to Earth every so often to visit my sister. Helen is doing well, with no signs of her illness returning. She was shocked to hear that I had married—three men—and even more shocked to discover that all I had written her in my letter was true. After she revived from fainting, she told me how exceedingly happy she is for me. She knew how alone I had been, and for me to find not just one, but three men to love, was a miracle.
And yes; I believe in miracles now. I believe in unicorns, fairies, magic, and love that lasts forever. But most of all, I believe in the power of Understanding.
Keep reading for some sneak peeks into the first books in Amy's other series...
Godhunter
Fairy-Struck
and
The Last Lullaby
Godhunter, Book 1 in the Godhunter Series
You can get this book for FREE on the 9th day of every month!
Chapter One
“There were of old certain men versed in sorcery, Thor, namely, and Odin, and many others, who were cunning in contriving marvelous sleights; and they, winning the minds of the simple, began to claim the rank of gods.”
Saxo Grammaticus, Gesta Danorum, 13th century
When someone asks if you’re a god, you say yes!
Those were the words going through my mind the first time I met Thor. In my line of work they should have been words to live by… literally. At least they would have been had I remembered them in time. Unfortunately, Bill Murray’s voice taunted me inside my head mere seconds too late. Thanks a lot, Bill.
My forgetfulness left me facing the distinct possibility of an early and creatively painful demise. If only I'd remembered the movie wisdom sooner. Yes, movie wisdom. Scoff all you want but it may surprise you how much useful information is hidden in movie dialog. At least that's what I tell myself so I can feel better about thinking in movie quotes half the time.
“So, Thor,” I smirked up at the giant, gladiator-muscled, Viking while he glowered down at me through a fall of his shimmering copper hair. “What's it gonna be? Hammer? Lightning? Fists of fury? Lightning might singe the rug a bit. Odin might not appreciate that, it looks kinda old.”
Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to taunt a god but hey, what did I have to lose? He’d caught me red handed, bent over the new Make War, Not Love campaign plans I'd found in the Human Relations room of Valhalla. I hadn’t even heard the loud-mouthed God of Thunder coming in, if you can believe that. Loud-mouthed didn’t automatically equate to loud-footed, evidently. Then to make matters worse, he asked me if I was a god. Like maybe I was a newbie or something, and what did I, the ever quick-witted one say? I said no. Yeah, I wanted to smack myself silly for that one.
Then again, maybe I should cut myself some slack. It’s a little shocking to be face to face, well face to chest, with what had to be close to seven feet of gorgeous, vibrant, leather-clad Viking godliness. Did I mention gorgeous? And the leather? I don’t mean that yuppie silky lambskin either. I mean hard core, I’m gonna bust your ass if you look at me wrong, well worn but still strong enough to wipe the floor with your face, leather. Just seeing the way it teased me by gripping all that muscle, made me want to rip it to shreds and teach it a lesson. Bad leather, Viking gods should be naked.
“You wanna see my hammer?” Thor’s eyes took on a wicked gleam as he looked slowly up and down my body, which took longer than it should have for all five-foot-three (and a half) of me.
“Whoa there, Viking,” I leaned back further on the table he’d previously planted me on like I was a misbehaving child. “Raping and pillaging days are in the past. You gotta catch up on the times.” I snapped my fingers in his face. “Nowadays there are laws on the treatment of prisoners.”
“Not for gods,” his lips twitched. It was just a slight movem
ent but I caught it and it gave me the smallest glint of hope that I might actually make it out of this mess alive. Get 'em laughing, then run while they're distracted. It's not the best plan but it's worked for me before.
“Hey, like I always say, gods are people too,” I smiled my best P.R. smile. Gods are great, they’re not at all out to manipulate mankind, really, and I’m definitely not here to foil their evil plans. I smiled bigger.
“No we’re not,” the frown was back and he set an intimidating fist on the table next to my hip for good measure. A fist that was nearly the size of my face.
The leather around his forearm creaked at me gleefully.
Okay, that was more like it. I could handle an angry god better than a horny one. I congratulated myself on the sharpness of my tongue until I felt his thumb scrape lightly over my jeans. I went still, listening to more creaky leather commentary as Thor leaned in closer and I found myself wondering how much strain the stuff could take. Maybe he’d bust his seams before he had a chance to bust my face. I can’t say the prospect didn’t have its own appeal, even without saving me an ass kickin'.
The glimpse of chest I had through the V of his leather tunic was something straight out of a male calender. Made for women to drool over, the kind of sculpted, smooth, perfect chest that looked airbrushed. It was mere inches from my face, rising and falling with his deep breaths, and I had an overwhelming urge to lean forward and rub my cheek against it. Then there was that smell. This close to him, I was practically enveloped in it. It was like standing in the middle of a storm while lightning struck nearby; a wild, exciting aroma of rain and electricity. Of freshly washed man.
“Now, now,” I chided him like a school teacher as I tried to focus on his face. “You mustn’t forget your own history. Shall I refresh your memory?”
“Try me,” he made a sound halfway between a sniff and a snort, “let's hear what you think you know of gods.”
“Well for one thing,” I poked my finger into his massive chest, “I know you aren’t gods at all, so you can just stop with the holier than thou attitude, buster.”
A thick eyebrow arched up and Thor’s lips went into mini spasms.
“For another thing,” yes, I was still poking him, “I know where you’re from, Atlantean. I know your god abilities are nothing more than technological and magical advances your kind kept from humanity in an attempt to rule the world. Advances that ended up destroying Atlantis but still you all didn’t think that was any reason to stop practicing them.”
“Practice does make perfect,” his eyes started to spark with the very magic I’d referenced and I knew I had only one shot to get out of there alive and un-hammered as it were.
“I know something else too,” I whispered and cast my eyes side to side conspiratorially.
He couldn’t help it; his smile finally broke free as he leaned in closer, “What’s that?”
“I know if I do this,” I kicked my leg out as hard as I could and caught him where no man likes to be kicked, “god or not, you’re going down.”
I jumped off the table the minute Thor landed, groaning and cupping himself on the thick carpet. Then I bolted past him and out the door, already chanting the spell that would get me through the wards of Valhalla and out into the Aether. I felt the magic rush over me like a hot, tickling breath as I ran down a long hallway to the tracing room. It sparked eagerly across my skin, urging me back to where I'd come from. Everything in its place and all that.
As I crossed the threshold, I was pulled through the tracing point and into the Aether. The tracing point sealed behind me with a low murmur of magic and a pressurized pop in my ears. But that physical sensation lasted only a moment before my body became a mere memory with a tingling, freeing ecstasy. I flowed through streams of pure magic, my spell propelling me along to my destination so I didn't have to navigate the waters myself. With another pressure-pop that announced the reformation of my ears, I exited the Aether and felt my body reluctantly become physical again. Gravity was the worst; a jarring, sucking sensation that took a few moments to readjust to.
My momentum sent me straight into a wall. A dirty, alley wall. I pushed off it immediately and swung around to automatically crouch into a fighting stance, just in case Thor had managed to follow me through. Tracing was a rush, add the adrenaline of the chase to it and it left me panting for breath and shaking. My pulse beat heavily in my ears, the thudding drowning out the traffic I could see in my peripheral vision. I was holding my kodachi before me and I hadn’t even realized I’d drawn the Japanese shortsword.
Remnants of magic sparked blue and drifted to the ground in a roughly circular outline but the wall across from me remained the same; no ripples, no blurring, no sign of Thor at all. I stood slowly, leaned back, and felt my heart rate start to decelerate as I slid the sword into its scabbard.
“God damn Buffy! Freakin’ vampire slayer gets all the props,” I muttered. “Vampires, please! Bunch of melodramatic parasites. And werewolves? I'd fight one of those puppies any day rather than a god. At least they can't pull magic out of their furry butts. Now faeries, I might not be thrilled to meet one of them in a dark alley… a dark alley kinda like this one.” I shoved myself quickly away from the wall and power-walked towards the street, still bitching about a fictional vampire hunter under my breath.
“Vampire Slayer,” I grumbled, “Try killing a god sometime and then get back to me. Blondie wouldn't last a day. She'd be whining to her mommy about the unfairness of it all within minutes. Oh, and falling for your prey... total amateur. You don't poop where you eat and you don't kill where you sleep. Or sleep with who you kill. No wait, that's necrophilia,” I frowned and then shook my head. “Oh whatever, it's just dumb to let your prey seduce you.” Thor's striking face flashed through my mind, his ocean eyes sparkling with magic, and I decided to just shut the hell up. That guy Spike was sweet to Buffy, in a psycho kind of way.
Ugh. I threw my hands up and shook my head at myself. Staring death in the face can have an odd affect on people. Especially when death's face was that of a Viking god. I had to let it go and stop acting like a crazy person, muttering to myself about vampires and werewolves in an alley. This was just another day hunting gods, nothing special about it.
You might be wondering how someone gets into the god hunting business and all I can tell you is: hell if I know. I pretty much stumbled face first into it. Like hitting a rock when you're riding a bike at full speed; I went flying and landed in a thorn bush. A burning one. A talking, burning one that proclaimed it was god in a booming voice.
I never really was the religious type. I'm more of a hands-on kinda girl. I’ve practiced witchcraft my entire life, which I kinda look on as a religion of the self. I do mean witchcraft by the way, not Wicca. I know that's a religion but I don't practice it, I just do the spells. Wicca's a little too peaceful for me, though I do like the clothes.
Well, I guess I haven't practiced witchcraft my entire life but pretty damn close since Mom was teaching me spells in the cradle. Most babies got The cow jumped over the moon; I got sung to about drawing it down. Not that I’m complaining since it’s really helping me out these days but I’ve just never seen the gods as a big part of my life.
Boy has that changed.
I walked out of the alley, into the bright Hawaiian sunshine, and held a hand up to shield my eyes. Well where did you expect the gods to live? Okay, so they don’t all technically live in Hawaii but quite a few do and those that don't, seem drawn here. The land is still filled with old magic, practically spilling with it since there isn’t much land to begin with. So it’s a nice place for a god to go on vacation. Whatever, it’s my home and I have to say I’m getting a little tired of sharing it with them. They have their own realm to live in, they need to go there. Or they can go to Hell for all I care... which also happens to be in the God Realm. In fact, from what I understand, there's a few of them. They can take their pick.
About five years ago, I truly started develop
ing a relationship with the gods and I’m not talking in the Do you have a relationship with God? Jimmy Swaggart sense. I’m talking about a deep understanding of how truly evil they are. Read your history books, kiddies; most gods were revered mainly because they were so damn scary.
For me it all started with sex. At least it would have if my chosen partner for the evening hadn’t been planning on killing me as a sacrifice to the Hawaiian God of War, Ku. You think you’ve got some bad date stories.
My young, Hawaiian escort for the evening was everything every female tourist (and some males too, I’m sure) fantasized about on the plane ride over. He was tall, dark, handsome, and built like a brick… well you get the picture. He also had green eyes, courtesy of some white ancestor who got lucky with a wicked wahine. Green eyes have always been a weakness of mine.
He took me out on a romantic date, ending with us drinking an entire bottle of champagne at a Heiau (a Hawaiian temple). This particular Heiau was dedicated to none other than, Ku. Now I know that doesn’t sound too romantic but take into account that the Heiau was situated on a mountaintop overlooking Waimea Bay and the sun was setting. A deep pumpkin sky painting the cerulean sea pink as it crept into a verdant valley spotted with the flight of tropical birds. Can you see the sexy factor yet?
I may have been tipsy when we started. I’d just turned twenty-one so give me a break on the alcohol consumption, but when I looked up and spotted a large local man watching us from the tree line, I sobered up quick. I shot him a nasty look but he was focused on my date so he didn't see it. Something in his gaze set off warning sirens (definitely sirens, not bells) and I turned back sharply to find a large Crocodile Dundee knife plunging towards me.
I had seconds to roll to the side before the blade ended up embedded in the ground, merely nicking my upper arm instead of going through my chest. I rolled back towards the knife, effectively removing it from my date's possession and my bleeding arm, as I kicked upwards. I don’t know if I hit him there or not but he howled like he was in serious pain.