by Sumida,Amy
These women had attacked me and my family. They had sought to murder my sons, my husbands, myself, as well as the child of a dear friend. Not to mention all the other lives they'd tried to hurt. Now they would pay the price. No more would Aalish plot against me and mine. No longer would Dubheasa haunt my dreams. Tonight would see an end to that for good. Justice rose inside my breast, and gave a sense of righteousness to my fury. This was what the Hunt had been created for, to deliver justice against faeries or humans who had committed terrible crimes. As I flew across Faerie's sky ,with the most terrifying of her children at my back and beneath my feet, I knew it in my bones. I was helping to fulfill the purpose of my people.
Monsters weren't made to scare the innocent. They didn't lurk beneath the beds of children or within the shadows of their closets. We rode the night, roaring our warning to the corrupt and evil. Giving them a glimpse of what would come for them, should they continue down their atrocious paths. We had been made to seek reparation for their crimes. To provide consequences with claws and teeth. We were the things that went bump in the night, but we only bumped those who deserved it.
I swept down, watching avidly as Trevor landed a swipe on Dubheasa's leg. She stumbled but then righted herself, and sped off. Azrael dove through the sky like a phantom, and caught just the tip of Aalish's hair. But he came back to me with a hank of yellow strands in his skeletal hand. I roared my approval as he cast the strands into the breeze, to flutter back to the others and inspire them.
Then a phooka raced forward, snapping at the women's heels, and drawing even more blood. I inhaled deeply. The scent of rich earth, night flowers, and just a trace of salt from the Faerie Sea, became a perfect bottom note to the delicate perfume of fresh blood.
It went on this way for over an hour. We chased the women through the Forgetful Forest, and right past the Castle of Eight. Faeries lined the ramparts, the High Royals standing in their midst, watching the traitors flee past them. It wasn't often that the other kingdoms got a chance to witness a hunt, and so the great trees were overflowing with faeries. But the faces of those faeries were grim and strained. Some even looked nauseous. I knew that this moment would remain with them for a very long time. It would haunt their dreams, and hopefully deter them from choosing a similar course.
I roared, and several of the watching fey pulled back in terror. Arach gave me a knowing look, but in my defense, I'd been the target of enough faerie hostility to warrant a little extra precaution. I wanted to be certain that the Fey knew what I was capable of, and what would happen to them if they threatened my family. But when I glanced back at the Castle of Eight, I saw Lugh standing with his new family. He wasn't at all cowed by my display. In fact, he smiled wide, and gave me a courtly bow.
I may have breathed out a curving stream of fire for him. Like I said, dragons love to show off.
We continued past the castle, herding the women straight through the forest, and out the other side. As we had planned. This would take us out in front of the boundary of the Water Kingdom, where King Guirmean and his people would be waiting. Arach had offered to end the hunt at Water, giving our friend and his people a front row seat to the slaughter. Guirmean had gladly accepted. His kingdom needed the peace that witnessing Dubheasa's death would bring.
So when the ex queens of Earth and Water finally stumbled out of the Forgetful Forest, it was to find themselves surrounded by the waiting water fey. The water faeries were armed to the gills, spears and swords held at the ready, and eyes gleaming with malice. Dubheasa hadn't just betrayed them once, she'd returned and tried to destroy one of their ancient cities, along with their powerful and beloved prince. There was no mercy within the water fey for their old queen.
The women fell onto the hard dirt, and scrambled around as the Wild Hunt surged over them. Arach and I landed before the gathering of water faeries, and the tide of the Hunt receded. As both royalty and the leaders of the Wild Hunt, Arach and I were allowed the privilege of the killing blows. I strode forward with Arach, our footsteps shaking the ground, and loomed over the broken women. They were both bleeding from a legion of wounds all over their bodies, several being bites, and they both sported broken bones as well. Some of which speared out of their flesh invitingly.
I licked my lips, and looked to Arach. He considered the whimpering women for a moment, and then looked to my other men.
“One strike apiece,” he said to my husbands and Re before swinging his gaze to King Guirmean. “For you as well, my friend. Should you wish it.”
My men strode forward eagerly, and Guirmean joined them with a vicious smile. The Water King took a jewel-encrusted dagger from his belt, and drove it deep into Dubheasa's belly.
“For my son,” he snarled in her face as he pulled the dagger out, “and my people!”
The water fey cheered.
My men didn't bother with fancy proclamations. Odin dismounted and went forward on foot with the others. He and Azrael strode to Aalish, while Kirill and Trevor went to Dubheasa. Re stood back while my husbands attacked the women in synchronicity. A deadly dance that was morbidly beautiful. Trevor and Kirill tore large bites from Dubheasa while Odin and Azrael sliced into Aalish. My werewolf prince carved his choice morsel, just as he vowed he would, and carried it over to me like an offering. Kirill followed his lead, and brought me his piece too. I shivered as I snaked my head down to theirs, and carefully took the morsels from their mouths. They, in turn, licked the blood from my lips.
Arach growled, and I lifted my head, casting him a saucy look. Steam drifted out of his nostrils.
When I looked back to the women, I saw that Re had stepped forward. He lifted his hands as his whole body began to glow. The light gathered and intensified in his palms, then shot out onto his victims. They screamed pitifully, and tried to lurch away, but Re followed their every movement, roasting them as efficiently as a blow torch. The scent of cooking meat filled the air, and my mouth began to water. The fire fey began to growl appreciatively.
The screams were pitiful, and deep down I knew I should have been horrified, traumatized, disgusted, and everything else non-psychotics feel when they witness such horror. But my dragon felt no sympathy for these murderers. All she felt was an odd mix of satisfaction and hunger. We'd had just the smallest taste, and now we wanted more. When Re bowed to us and backed away, Arach and I were more than ready to feast on the meal he'd prepared.
I stepped forward eagerly, but Arach angled his long neck into my view, “Remember, A Thaisce, how I swore to you that they would drown in their own blood?”
“I remember,” I rumbled in anticipation.
I went to Aalish, and stood over her blistered, bloody body. It was nothing more than meat now, but she was still clinging to life. A small part of me did cringe then, shaking with terror in light of the monster I'd become. But I gave that piece of me no more than a moment's thought. We had fought hard to win our revenge, and I would not deny myself now. So I lowered my head to Aalish's neck, and closed my teeth around just the barest bit of flesh. With a quick, rather merciful jerk, I tore out her throat. The blood poured forth, and she did indeed start to drown in it. I looked over to the left, and saw that Arach had done the same with Dubheasa.
We could have continued, but I'd had more than my piece of flesh, and I knew my people needed theirs as well. Arach nodded to me in complete understanding. After he tore a chunk out of Dubheasa, we both stepped back, allowing our fire faeries to finish the meal. The fire faeries rushed forward, and tore into the women like wrapping paper on Christmas morning. My dragon delighted in the sounds of carnage as I licked the blood from my lips and savored the taste. She was content and so was I. The threat to our children and our mates had been eliminated. We could finally rest.
I shifted back to human, and Odin pulled a cloak out of a pack on Sleipnir's back. He brought it to me, and wrapped it gently around my shoulders. Then his hand went to my cheek, and his forehead leaned into mine briefly. I felt Arach come up behind me, and
turned to see him in his half-dragon form, scaled and clawed, his body glowing like rubies in the light of the torches. His impressive tail swept out behind him aggressively, showcasing its barbed tip, as he laid a hand on my shoulder possessively.
His dragon had taken over. Shifting into his half form was probably all he could manage as far as control went. I should have known this would be a problem. Hadn't he just thrown an epic fit over my pregnancy? What was he going to do now, when confronted with the man who had done the impregnating? Not to mention all of my other husbands, and my sexy Sun God boyfriend. There was far too much testosterone and male magic surrounding me for my well meaning, but hormonal husband, to deal with.
Arach growled, his claws curving over my shoulder to just barely dig into the cloak.
“Back away,” I said in a low voice to my other men. “I'm so sorry, but you need to understand. It's his dragon, he's lost to it now. The blood and the hunt, they've taken him completely.”
Arach let out a roar, and jerked me to his chest, snarling and glaring at my men over my shoulder.
“We understand,” Odin held up a conciliatory hand. “Thank you for your hospitality, King Arach,” he bowed, and my other men followed suit, bless their hearts. “We'll make our way back to the Great Tree on our own. Don't worry about us, Vervain.”
“I will see to them,” King Guirmean came up to stand beside Odin.
It was a deliberate move which hid Trevor and Kirill. They'd both shifted back to human, which meant they were both naked. A situation sure to enrage Arach further.
“Queen Vervain is your wife, King Arach,” Guirmean continued in a calm voice. “No one will try to take her from you. I swear it as your most loyal friend.”
That seemed to settle Arach a little, and he stopped snarling. Meanwhile, the fire fey had finished their meal, and all that was left of the women were some bits of bone and hair. I looked away from death's debris, my stomach clenching against the reality of what I'd been a part of. But I schooled my features because my faeries were watching us avidly, waiting for their king to direct their next actions. If Arach attacked my men, the fire fey would back him. My heart started to beat faster. One wrong step, and the men I loved would die at the hands of the faeries I considered family.
Arach growled, responding to my fear.
“Stop!” I commanded as the fire fey crept closer. “Go home and protect your princes while I see to your king.”
That made both the fire fey and Arach pause. I used his distraction to turn in his arms and pull his face down to mine. He snarled, but then yanked me tighter to his chest. I shifted into a half dragon form to match his, creamy gold scales emerging from my skin as claws lengthened from my fingernails. The cloak Odin had given me was pushed back, so that I was pressed scales to scales against Arach.
I swung my newly formed tail around Arach's legs, and kissed him as possessively as he was holding me. Under the cover of the cloak, I rubbed myself against him, using every trick I could think of to turn his lust up higher than his fury. A low groan started in Arach's chest and lifted into mine upon a stream of fire. I drank it down, and pushed him back into the forest amid the cheers of our people. Yes, we fire faeries can be a bit savage in more ways than one. After the bloodlust was quenched, a purer lust often arose.
The appearance of my half-form, along with my sensual attack, seemed to satisfy Arach's dragon. He roared, this time with exultation, and lifted me into the air, carrying me up above the forest with powerful strokes of his leathery wings. The shouts of our people faded away as we rushed through the cool night, heading home. I wrapped myself around him as he flew, staring up into his glowing eyes, like yellow stars in the velvet sky. He smiled viciously at me, and pulled my body up his, sliding my legs open around his hips.
I inhaled sharply as the tip of his tail slid between my thighs and gently parted me. Then he settled himself home, and my wings clenched in tight to my back in ecstasy. My tail wrapped around us, keeping us pressed firmly together, despite the slickness of our glassy scales. I slid my hands up his neck, my claws finding a patch of scaleless skin to dig into, and pulled his mouth to mine. A drop of blood dripped from the tip of my claw as I gave Arach the fire he craved.
When he had drunk his fill of flames, I pulled away and licked the blood from his neck. He threw back his head and roared, his claws clenching around my thighs possessively. Then we were snarling and clawing our way to satisfaction, the pound of Arach's hips mirroring the beat of his wings, as my Dragon King carried me home.
Epilogue
There was a celebration in the Fire Kingdom the likes of which hadn't been seen since the birth of my sons. The water fey joined us, but my sweet, understanding, god husbands and boyfriend went back to the God Realm without me. I used my ring to return to them at a time when they'd just be arriving home, so it wasn't such a hardship for them. Then I spent the next week thanking them all personally for their compassion with regards to Arach.
Cernunnos and his green men have stayed in Faerie for quite awhile now, but I've heard that they're due to return soon. I admit, I'm looking forward to their return, simply so they can send me news of what happened at Tara. I have no desire to attempt contact with any of the other Celtic gods. So I remain in the dark over the fate of the Tuatha Dé Dannan.
I do have news on Alfheim though. Eamon has reported that Alfheim has returned to its full glory, and he feels that he's doing a competent job as its steward. Freya has been checking in on him for me, and I've even gone a few times with Odin and our sons, Vali and Vidar, to visit Alfheim. So I've seen firsthand that Eamon is being very modest. He's a fantastic steward, and Alfheim is literally blossoming under his care. It's a huge relief to see the territory my mother created for me, healthy once more.
As for myself, my pregnancy is progressing well. I'm having none of the issues I had with Rian and Brevyn. I don't have morning sickness at all, and I never burn things by burping. So I guess life is pretty sweet. My men have taken to the idea of a new baby in our lives, like a lion to the hunt. They've begun the nesting process in earnest, with a wild ferocity that only they can manage. We now have a nursery loft just above the main bedroom's balcony. It connects to both of the towers which bracket the balcony. The towers which my husbands have their private rooms in. There's also access to the nursery via a stairway, off to the left of the balcony. So basically, all of us could reach the baby in seconds if need be.
When I pointed out that I'd probably just keep a crib beside the bed for awhile, they had all gaped at me in horror. No, no, no, the baby couldn't sleep beside our massive bed of lust. That was out of the question. The thought of having sex near an infant shocked them to their core. It didn't matter that the infant would be completely unaware of our perversions.
I just smiled and gave in. Let them have their way for now. What's that line about best laid plans? Mice and men going awry? My men would discover soon enough how very awry plans could get when you added a baby to the mix.
Grammar Giggles
And just for a little giggle, here are some grammar mistakes found by my editor, Michelle Hoffman, and by myself, during the editing of this book. I've italicized the incorrect words.
Correct line: We all lifted our heads and glared at Pan but it was Kirill who said simply, “You vill die, horny little god.”
Giggle: We all listed our heads and glared at Pan but it was Kirill who said simply, “You vill die, horny little god.” (Listed? Really?)
And on the very same page I found;
Correct line: “You can't fight fate,” Hekate scowled as she repeated Morrigan's words, “but perhaps we can negotiate.”
Giggle: “You can't fight fate,” Hekate scowled as she repeated Morrigan's words, “but perfects we can negotiate.”
Correct line: One of them angled its head down to peer at me quizzically.
Giggle: One of them angled its head dead to peer at me quizzically. (How morbid!)
Correct line: We rode right into th
e forest of soaring pine and elm,
Giggle: We road wight into the forest of soaring pine and elm, (Seriously? What am I; a five-year-old with a lisp?)
Correct line: “There's one more thing,” I said in a small voice.
Giggle: “There's one more thing,” I said in a small vice. (Evidently Vervain's voice is actually a vice)
Correct Line: My face went slack as I stared at the three of them, Arach so damn happy I thought his face would break.
Giggle: My face went slack as I stared at the three of him, Arach so damn happy I thought his face would break.
Correct Line: Voila! I had a phone I could wear.
Giggle: Voile! I had a phone I could wear. (For all of you who don't know fabric; voile is a type of sheer material. I might have well have said: Chiffon! I had a phone I could wear.)
And please feel free to write me at [email protected] if you spot any grammar errors yourself. I'm a poor self-published author who must rely on the kindness of my super-smart friends for help in editing. Please have mercy on my writing.
Keep Reading for a sneak peek into the next book in
The Godhunter Series:
Never Cry Werewolf
Chapter One
Was there anything better than immortal butterflies?
I shifted my stare from the shimmer of blue butterfly wings to the deep blue eyes of my Intare husband, and smiled. Yes, there was something better. A lot of somethings actually. I stretched languidly against Kirill, rolling my neck on the crook of his thickly muscled arm, and sighed in bliss as he lowered his lips to mine. As it often did these days, his palm found its way to my rounded belly, and a growl of satisfaction rumbled in his chest. His dark hair fell to the side, blocking us from the view of my other husbands, who were walking up the winding path of the butterfly garden.
