“Hippolyta’s girdle? How did you—?” The Queen clutched a hand over her mouth and trembled, before resuming her regal bearing to bow her head and accept the girdle. As she fastened the wide belt around her waist, a shiver of awe rippled through Delia. “Thank you, my child. You honor me.”
The King offered his hand to Hippolyta. “We will always honor our alliance with the Amazons.”
The two leaders clasped hands, raising them high, and a cheer erupted from the crowd. Hippolyta shrieked a blood-curdling war cry, which echoed and reverberated throughout the stone chamber.
Hector stepped behind Delia, sliding his left hand around her waist, and grasping her right one. He bent and purred into her ear, “Thank the gods we’re on her side.”
Three weeks later
“You owe me, Hector.” Delia arched a fine brow at him, holding out her hand. The others at the nymph camp dispersed as their confrontation with the youngest centaur brother, Petraeus, ended—with him declaring his intentions to claim his mate, Ekho.
“For what?” Hector crossed his arms, frowning at his own mate. “I was right about Petraeus.” The five brothers, along with Kyme and Arsenius, had gambled on whether that rogue would actually submit to the bonding—willingly.
“Yes, but I was right about the timing.” She tapped one foot impatiently.
“Fine,” he grumbled, shifting the full sack of coins in his hands. He’d earned them, right and true, from Arsenius. Sadly, Delia was correct. He’d wagered that his roguish youngest brother would resist for at least another month.
“Now, centaur.” The stern note in her sultry voice was one he’d grown accustomed to, and truth be told, rather enjoyed.
Delia could make all manner of demands of him, anytime.
Aye, ’twas good to have a fierce, spirited Amazon warrior for a mate.
Grudgingly, he extended the satchel of gold coins. Instead of accepting them, she snared his wrist, twisted his arm, kicked out his front hooves, and flipped him onto his back, knocking the air from his lungs. And spilling his hard-won coins. “What in the bloody hell, woman?”
Smirking, she planted one foot on either side of his head. “I said you owed me, but we never discussed the terms.”
He swallowed thickly, thankful for his impotence in this centaur form, for surely the inhabitants of the camp continued to mingle about. “Lass, if you’re feeling a mite amorous, I’d be happy to show you a lovely little stream in the woods yonder.” He bobbed his brows, tilting his head toward the forest.
She narrowed her eyes and crouched, her sweet sex so close to his mouth he could almost flick his tongue out and taste her. “Oh, you will.” Rising, she stepped over him and sauntered into the woods without a backward glance.
Because, damn, of course he followed hastily performing the morphos into human form as he pursued her.
Delia trekked to the very stream he had in mind and whirled around at the embankment, bracing the tip of a dagger toward him.
He held up both hands, scowling at her. “You’re not fighting fair, my love.”
“I’m not fighting at all,” she purred. “I’m staking my claim on what’s mine.”
His hearts slowed to a sluggish thumping before racing to pump furiously. He gazed into her eyes to assure himself she wasn’t jesting.
That she truly meant it.
With every threat around them erupting, neither of them had spoken much of the future. He’d been holding his breath, waiting for her to make her choice.
Would she stay with him, as his mate and wife, or return to her people? Perhaps she’d only visit him rarely.
Unlike Arsenius and Kyme, he didn’t have the luxury of forging a new path with his mate. His duty and his future as the next King would always be a part of him.
So, he hadn’t discussed the matter with her, because if he did, she just might make her decision right then and there.
And leave him.
It had been easier not to know the future, not to guess.
To live only in the moments granted them.
Yet here she stood before him, dagger in hand.
“I made a promise to you once, Hector, to fight at your side. Now, I would make another. To fight at your side and to weave my fate with yours.”
The air strangled in his lungs, his chest bursting with relief and purest joy. Closing his eyes, he bowed his head and kneeled before her on the mossy rocks. “I would be most honored to accept.” Opening his eyes, he angled his face toward hers. “I love you, my fair Delia, and my hearts will always be yours.”
One corner of her mouth curled and she gave a casual shrug of her shoulder, but he detected the tears misting in her eyes. “Good, because I wasn’t going to give you a choice. You’re mine, Hector.”
Elation bubbled in his chest, spreading heat through his veins. No words had ever sounded sweeter.
Before he could reciprocate with his affections, she raised her leg and planted her foot on his shoulder, shoving him onto his back.
His cock shot hard, straining against the front of his breeches. Despite the urge to seize her and assume control, he fisted his hands, forcing himself to watch. To see just where she might take them.
Delia tugged down his breeches, his shaft springing free, thick and rigid. He squeezed his eyes, praying she wouldn’t drag out the suspense.
Instead of wrapping those slender hands around him, she gripped his left thigh. “Are you ready to be claimed by an Amazon, centaur?”
What in Hades? He growled, his emotions jumping around beneath his skin. Anxiety, puzzlement, intrigue, desperation. “By the gods, yes, Delia, I want to be yours.”
“Then I’m going to mark you, in the Amazon way, so that all may know you belong to me.” She leaned forward and brushed her lips across his once, before flipping around, settling her thighs on either side of his waist, and straddling him. Arching her hips and tucking the skirt of her chiton around her waist, she eased him between her legs and sank down upon him. At the same time, a slicing burn cut across his flesh, so swiftly and efficiently, he barely had time to utter a groan.
He couldn’t see what symbol she’d carved, but no matter, for the view was better from here. Hector braced on his elbows and observed while she rolled her hips forward, claiming him to the base, and then undulated, her full, lush bottom bouncing before his admiration. “Delia,” he grunted, his ballocks aching as she squeezed them, “you’re going to drive me back into madness if you tease me any longer.”
“Then don’t hold back, my dearest Hector.” She cast him a wink over her shoulder, gliding up and down his length. “Prove your devotion, and master me.”
The pressure inside him pitched to an unbearable brink and his control snapped. Roaring, he thrust his hips upward and shot every drop of his hot seed into her.
Her sheath reciprocated the claiming, clenching fiercely around him while a shrill cry passed his mate’s lips.
She rocked for a few moments longer, milking every last pleasure from their bodies, and then collapsed backward on top of him, his sex nestling in that blissful spot between her thighs.
Together, they panted, their chests rising and falling in the same pounding rhythm. Their hearts racing to beat at the same rapid pace.
And their souls woven ever deeper together.
“My love, remind me never to wager against you again.” He feathered a tender kiss across her damp hairline.
She chimed a laugh and wiggled her bottom, her thighs closed tight around his rigid erection. “Oh, I’m certain you won’t. My centaur is strong, noble, and wise.”
She sighed and pressed her lips to his cheek.
“And every inch the master of my heart.”
*****
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.<
br />
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
Krenaiai – nymphs of wells and fountains
From the moment Kyme met Thereus in Moon Borne, I knew I just had to one day pair a centaur with an Amazon. I’m so thrilled with the resulting sparks, and I hope you are too.
Thank you to my amazing beta readers, Ashley, Lyn, Robin, Gina, Jessica, Stacy, and Nicola, for your crazy awesome enthusiasm.
A big thank you to my review team and street team. You’re the best!
To Kelley, my keen-eyed copy editor, thanks for rooting through this series with me.
Karie Deegan, my ninja PA, you’re my first eyes and my last, and I can’t tell you how much that means to me <3
Hugs and kisses to my family. I love you always.
And to my readers, I can’t wait to share the next centaur brother with you. He’s been very stubbornly waiting his turn and I’m certain his tale won’t disappoint ;)
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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Look for these titles, available here.
CHINESE ZODIAC ROMANCE SERIES:
BOOK 1: TRANCING THE TIGER
BOOK 2: REMATCH
BOOK 3: BY THE HORNS
BOOK 4: MATCH ME LATER
BOOK 5: REINING HIM IN
BOOK 6: MATCHING DRAGONS
BOOK 7: IN WOLF’S CLOTHING
HALCYON ROMANCE SERIES:
BOOK 1: MOON BORNE
BOOK 2: EARTH BORNE (DARK LORD OF THESSALY)
BOOK 3: WICKED LORD OF THESSALY
BOOK 4: BRUTISH LORD OF THESSALY
BOOK 5: MASTERFUL LORD OF THESSALY
BOOK 6: UNTAMED LORD OF THESSALY
BOOK 7: LOST LADY OF THESSALY
BOOK 8: WATER BORNE
Want more centaurs? Read on for an exclusive sneak peek at the third novella in the LORDS OF THESSALY spin-off series, UNTAMED LORD OF THESSALY:
On the edge of a whisper
As one of the Aurae, breeze nymphs, Ekho can utter compulsive suggestions to anyone, anywhere. Even to the wild and unbroken centaur Lord Petraeus, who stubbornly resists her commands at every turn. Yet if she can’t convince him to help save her people—and his—it will be too late for both of their races.
Darkness and temptation mingle
Despite his better reason, Petraeus has followed the instructions of the sultry, seductive voice in his head. She promises his actions will aid his family, but so far, they’ve inched him closer to being hanged as a traitor. Now, the voice has a new task for him, one that will push him to the brink. But when he stumbles upon the owner of the voice, the bewitching nymph Ekho, their battle of wills—and desires—may force them both to yield what they vowed they never would.
And true love will rise, or perish on the winds
When their enemies seize control of Ekho’s powers, Petraeus will have to employ every persuasion to save the only woman who can command his heart, before she’s lost to him forever.
Centaur lands, Thessaly
Year 1384 of the reign of King Cheiron II
Or the human year, 1689
Petraeus gritted his teeth and corked his fingers in his ears as he paced across his chamber. “No, not listening.”
You’ve come this far. No point in stopping now, the sweet, lilting voice of temptation whispered along a warm breeze.
Plugging his ears didn’t work. Nor did thrashing his head against a wall until he lost consciousness. The voice always returned when he woke, buzzing in his head like a sultry purring. It belonged to a nymph. The bloody wench coerced his person as well as his mind, though not by her will. Nymphs exuded a sensuality that dragged most men to their knees. This female didn’t employ those powers against him.
It was his own damned body that betrayed him.
Drawing up short, he scowled down the length of his body. His stiff cock stood at attention, erect from one hum of her seductive voice.
Well, if one couldn’t defeat one’s enemy… He lifted and dropped a shoulder, his fingers extending to grip himself.
Don’t even try. Her voice resonated through his body and the arousal drained from his shaft.
Damn her. Nymphs could also augment—or diminish—a male’s lust.
Sighing, he scraped a hand along the side of his face and hung his head. “What do you want this time?”
Aye, this time, for the nymph had been tormenting him for nigh on a year. Each of her requests had teetered a little further along the edge of treason, as though she enjoyed toying with his destruction.
Don’t you wish to see your family content? Safe? I promise you, they will be.
Ha. He snorted into the empty chamber of his castle at Austere Pass. She’d already compelled him to betray two of his brothers. Hector and Oreius were the last brothers he had yet to stab in the back, which was presumably why she’d chosen to pester him today. “You forced me to guide our Lapith enemy Myron onto Agrius’s lands, where he attemp
ted to kill my brother and his mate. If that wasn’t terrible enough, you then coerced me to free the bastard,” he counted off the offenses on the fingers of his right hand, “and let’s not forget how you made me kiss Thereus’s mate.” He grimaced at the distasteful memory. “Now, likely, you would demand I send either Hector or Oreius to his certain death. Am I right?”
He flung out his arm. “But, no, nymph, I’ll not be listening to any more of your persuasions.” Even if I have to cut out my ears. He eyed the hilt of the dagger tucked into his boot. What use would ears be to him if a noose tightened around his neck?
His fingers crept downward, inching toward the hilt.
You’ll do no such thing, centaur.
Just like that, the voice commanded his body, freezing his hand to his leg.
Are we clear?
Her firm, severe tone sank resignation into his chest. “Aye, Aura.” Nymph of the breeze. Someday, he’d get his hooves on her, and on that day…
He groaned and flexed his fingers as they came under his control once more.
Petraeus, Hector must—
Eerily, the voice cut off, the gentle breeze sucked from his chamber, a foreign, masculine rumbling behind it. The words jumbled and he only caught “Master.”
He stiffened and waited for the persuasion to freeze his will, binding it to hers. Yet nothing happened. Frowning, he stamped down any elation. She would return. She always did.
Undoubtedly, he would continue to be naught but her puppet.
Of course, his first impulse upon hearing the voice had been to consult his father, the great and wise King Cheiron.
Naturally, the nymph had anticipated and countered, compelling his tongue and forcing him to keep her secrets.
So he obeyed her instructions, knowing all the while…
She would surely bring about his doom.
***
Ekho of the Aurae, breeze nymphs, paced inside her cell. Damn. The centaur Lord Petraeus proved more and more difficult to manipulate.
Masterful Lord of Thessaly (Halcyon Romance Series Book 5) Page 9
