Cry Werewolf (Godhunter Book 20)

by Amy Sumida

“Mommy,” Rian waved a little hand to me.

  “Hey, baby,” I waved back.

  Rian was a little larger than Brevyn, and their looks were so different from each other's, but the boys were obviously twins. They shared a bond with each other which was even closer than the one they shared with me. I had to let go of our bond recently, so that I could save Kirill's life, and the boys had suffered considerably for it. But they would never let go of each other. I don't think it was even possible. After all, they had shared the same body once. They were two halves of a whole, and couldn't stand to be too far away from each other. They also sensed things about one another. As soon as Rian woke, Brevyn had lifted his head to gurgle happily at his brother.

  “Brev,” Rian smiled down to Brevyn. “Brev, Brev.”

  “Brevyn,” I helped him.

  “Mommy!” Rian replied.

  Yes, well, they were still learning.

  “Let's get back to 'Daddy', shall we?” Arach suggested slyly to Rian as he took a seat beside me on the fur rug.

  “My King,” Isleen, our stunning chatelaine, who also happened to be a leanan-sidhe (a type of faerie vampire), came into the room. She stopped short when she saw me, “My Queen. We have a visitor from the High Court.”

  “We do?” I asked in surprise.

  “Show them into the hall, and see to their comfort,” Arach nodded and went back to playing with Rian.

  “Yes, I've already done so,” Isleen sighed. Of course she had, she was the best chatelaine ever. “Prince Lugh has food and drink, he is awaiting your pleasure.”

  “Lugh is here?” I started to stand. “Why didn't you just say so?”

  “It's more entertaining for her to draw it out,” Arach huffed as he got to his feet.

  “Not at all, My King,” she protested, but there was a gleam in her eyes. “I shall return to the Prince, and inform him that you will attend him shortly.”

  “Want to meet the High Prince?” I asked Brevyn as we headed out the door.

  “Mama,” he replied with deep sincerity.

  “Okay then, Brevyn,” I kissed his cheek and bobbed him on my hip.

  Brevyn started to giggle, so I kept bobbing him all the way down the spiraling stairs in the center of Castle Aithinne, down to the main hallway, and then all the way into the dining hall. Rian bounced in Arach's arms, trying to get my husband to do the same for him, but Arach didn't have baby bouncing hips. He had to make do with jiggling Rian over his forearm.

  “Prince Lugh,” I greeted the High Prince of Faerie as I walked into our dining hall/throne room.

  Lugh was new to Faerie. He'd been raised by foster parents, who had told him his real father was dead. In actuality, his father was very much alive, and ruling the entire Faerie Realm. The High King had no idea that his affair with the Formorian Goddess, Ethniu, had resulted in pregnancy. Ethniu had been married at the time (to Elatha's son evidently), and even though her marriage had been an open one, and she could have probably kept Lugh, Ethniu decided that he needed to be with his father. The Fey didn't have a lot of children, they were just now coming back into their fertility (thanks in part to me- modest hair flip), and Ethniu knew what Lugh would mean to Cian. But a jealous water-sidhe named Fand, tricked Ethniu into believing that she would take the baby to his father in Faerie. Fand did no such thing. She stole Lugh, and raised him herself, with her god husband, Manannan.

  Phew. I know, that's a hell of a tale. And I'm not finished. Lugh just recently discovered his true parentage. All of his life, he had been misled. Fand lied because she enjoyed keeping Cian's son from him, after Cian had spurned her affections. Manannan lied to protect Lugh, believing that Cian couldn't acknowledge a child who was only part faerie. In order to rule in Faerie, you had to be pure Fey. So Manannan raised Cian's child, but gave Lugh his birth father's name, in the way of the Celts. Lugh Mac Cein. Manannan truly believed he was doing the right thing, saving both his friend, and his friend's son, from pain.

  But what Manannan didn't know was that fey essences and god souls can't mix. You can't have a half god/half fey baby. It's confusing when you think of it in terms of races, but if you view it more as species, it's easier to understand. It's like a horse and donkey breeding a mule. They produce an entirely new creature. In the case of different species of soul mixing, the child ends up being a new creature as well, one that's dual souled. And so, Lugh was born fully fey and fully god. He could indeed rule Faerie some day.

  Lugh had been separated from his family for no reason beyond Fand's jealousy. It made Lugh a little bitter towards his foster parents, and as an extension, to the pantheon which he'd been raised in. He was led to believe he was Tuatha Dé Dannan, when actually, he was Formorian and Fey. This was especially upsetting to Lugh because he had fought against the Formorians on behalf of the Tuatha. In a way, Lugh had betrayed his own people.

  Lugh wouldn't have even known about all of the deception if I hadn't been brought to Tara by Nuada (he of the silver hand) to speak to the Tuatha about the Formorian threat. I had met Lugh there, and Lugh is the spitting image of King Cian. From the blinding white hair to the metallic gold eyes. Lugh was just a little taller and more muscled than his father. But as soon as I saw him, I knew his parentage, and I kind of blurted it out.

  I had caused a terrible rift between Lugh and his old family, but I'd also brought him here, to the Faerie Realm, to meet his true father. Lugh seemed satisfied with the results. It turned out to be perfect timing too, because the Formorians attacked Tara just days after Lugh left it. And I hadn't spoke to the High Prince since then.

  I would have worried over his emotional state, whether he was feeling sad or even guilty about Nuada and Dagda's deaths, as well as the defeat of the Tuatha. I would have wondered if he mourned his old friends or maybe missed his foster parents. Except Lugh was currently surrounded by beautiful fire fey women, who were fawning over the new prince with an embarrassing lack of modesty. Lugh disengaged himself gently when he saw me, and came rushing over.

  “Vervain!” Lugh hugged me and Brevyn together, pausing to kiss Brevyn's forehead. “King Arach,” he became a little more reserved with my husband, stretching a hand out to shake Arach's.

  “High Prince,” Arach shook Lugh's hand warmly, and held Rian out for his kiss. “Welcome to Castle Aithinne. I see that you've already indulged yourself in our hospitality.”

  “Ah, yes,” Lugh blushed a little. “My apologies. I have a difficult time saying no to beautiful women.”

  “It's okay, Lugh,” I sent Arach a chiding look. “They're adults and free to do as they please.”

  “I hadn't meant to discourage him,” Arach huffed, and led us back to the waiting women. “Please, by all means, enjoy yourself. We are fire fey, which makes us especially passionate. As long as my people are willing, I have no problem with you satiating your needs together. Bed them all, if you like.”

  The women leaned eagerly forward, and Lugh nearly fainted.

  “It takes a little getting used to,” I gave his shoulder a pat. “Faeries can be very free in that way,” I shot a look at my husband, remembering the fit he'd literally flown into when I'd told him about my recent pregnancy. “At least some of them can.”

  “Dragons are possessive,” Arach shrugged as he sat in a chair at the end of the table full of Lugh's would-be bed partners. “I will not apologize for my nature. But these ladies are not dragon-sidhe,” he stopped to wink at our fey women and they giggled.

  “No, they're leanan-sidhe,” I warned Lugh as he sat down. “And they bite.”

  “I have no problem with some love nips,” Lugh smiled widely at the women. “But I need to discuss some things with your monarchs first. Would you all excuse us for a few minutes?”

  The women reluctantly left, and Lugh promised to send for them when he was finished speaking with us. I just rolled my eyes. It didn't look like Lugh would be settling down with one woman any time soon. Not that I was judging. I had no room for that. Lots of room for my many men,
but none for judging.

  “How are you?” I asked him as soon as the women left the hall. “You've heard about...?”

  “Dagda and Nuada?” Lugh asked. “Yes. I've heard. I'm alright. A little battered by feelings of anger and grief, but my new life is too wonderful for me to remain sad for long. Or angry, for that matter.”

  “Good,” I sat between Arach and him.

  “Mama,” Brevyn tapped my chest.

  “This is Lugh,” I said to Brevyn. “Do you remember Lugh?”

  “Mama,” Brevyn said again.

  “It's his first word,” I said proudly to Lugh. “He said it just moments before we came down to greet you.”

  “What fortuitous timing,” Lugh laughed. “And I have a gift for you as well.”

  “A gift?” Arach leaned forward with interest. Dragons loved presents.

  “It's from my father,” Lugh produced a velvet pouch and handed it to me.

  “Thank you,” I undid the tie, and emptied the pouch onto the table. A ring clattered out. “Jewelry? Tell your father he shouldn't have,” I teased, but then I got a good look at the ring.

  It was heavy gold, with an oval, crimson cabochon set into it lengthwise. It reminded me of something. I picked up the ring and held it beside the Ring of Remembrance that my father had left me. It was nearly identical, except for the color. My ring had a clear jewel.

  “Is this another Ring of Remembrance?” I asked Lugh in shock.

  “The question, A Thaisce,” Arach corrected before Lugh could answer, “is whom did this Ring of Remembrance belong to?”

  “It was Queen Aalish's ring,” Lugh grimaced.

  That had been another nasty affair. Aalish had tried to kill me again. Yes, again. This time she'd enlisted the aid of a very old enemy of mine, Queen Dubheasa, whom my Ring of Remembrance had transported to an arid place in the future. Dubheasa should have been impossible to retrieve, except Aalish had used the Earth Kingdom's Ring of Remembrance to go and fetch her. Their plotting had ended badly, with both women, and Aalish's husband, King Cahal, dead. The Earth King wasn't executed like the women had been. He killed himself in front of the High Court, using Arach's fire dagger to do the deed.

  “Aalish's ring,” Arach took it from me, and gave me a questioning look.

  “Go ahead,” I nodded to him. “I have no need for another, and red's your color.”

  “It is at that,” Arach winked at me, and slid the ring on his finger. “You realize what this means, A Thaisce?”

  “That you can travel with me now,” I smiled gently at him. “But what about the boys?”

  “We'll discuss it later,” he waved away my concern. The stone in his new ring winked at me deviously.

  “Why did your father send this to us?” I asked Lugh.

  “He believed it should be yours,” Lugh shrugged. “After all the trauma the Earth Kingdom has put you through, he thought this was the least of what you should receive as recompense.”

  “Thank him for his generosity,” Arach nodded regally. “The ring will be a great help to us.”

  “Yeah, Dad figured,” Lugh chuckled. “And I wanted to come out for a visit anyway, so I offered to bring it.”

  “We'll have to celebrate,” I looked to Arach. “Brevyn said his first word, and the High Prince has brought us a piece of faerie treasure. It's been a good day.”

  “Indeed,” Arach looked to the kitchen doorway on his right. “A feast!”

  A clatter echoed out to us, followed by excited exclamations.

  “We shall celebrate,” Arach nodded, satisfied that his orders were being carried out.

  “Sheesh, Arach,” I rolled my eyes. “You couldn't have been a little nicer?”

  “You'd like for me to beg my servants to serve me?” Arach scoffed.

  “Not beg, just show some courtesy,” I shook my head, and looked away, my gaze landing on Isleen, who was escorting in yet another visitor.

  “My King, my Queen,” Isleen said as she approached. “There is a messenger from Earth to see you.”

  “From Earth, the planet or Earth, the Kingdom?” I teased her.

  “I come from the Kingdom of Earth, Queen Vervain,” the man came forward, and bowed to me as Isleen snickered behind him.

  “The Queen was jesting,” Arach waved the man forward.

  “Ah, yes,” the man was actually a bargest, if my guess was correct. That shaggy, dark hair, those almost canine eyes, and his thick build screamed dog-shifter to me. Then he scented the air, and confirmed it. “I sense it now. My apologies, Queen of Fire.”

  “Not at all,” I said. “I was trying to tease my chatelaine, not you, our guest. That would be inhospitable. Please come and sit, have some wine.”

  The man looked shocked. Generally messengers were received in a formal situation, and then sent on their way. They were usually offered refreshment in the kitchen, if at all. To be offered a seat at a table with monarchy was unheard of. But I loved doing those sorts of things, and there wasn't anyone else in the room who would chide me for it. Well, besides my husband.

  “I couldn't possibly,” the man stammered.

  “Please,” Arach waved to a chair beside him, surprising the hell out of me. “One of our sons has just spoken his first word, and the High Prince has brought us treasure. You have arrived at a time of joy, and as such, fire custom dictates that you must be included in it.”

  “The High Prince?” the bargest looked as if he were about to pass out.

  “Yes, I'm Prince Lugh,” Lugh held out a hand to the bargest.

  “Sweet Faerie!” the man stared at Lugh's hand like it might strike him dead.

  “And you are?” Lugh looked as if he may have faced this situation a few times already. Lugh waggled his hand at the bargest in an attempt to remind him of what he should do with it.

  “Oh, I'm Taran,” he rushed forward and shook Lugh's hand, doing a strange little bow over it. “It's an honor to meet you, High Prince.”

  “Nice to meet you too,” Lugh waved to the seat Arach had indicated. “Please join us.”

  It was so nice to have someone around who spoke a little more like me. I gave Lugh a wink as Taran stumbled towards the seat, then plopped down like his legs had failed him. Isleen came up beside the man, shaking her head as she poured Taran a glass of wine, and then a large one for herself.

  “Here, drink,” Isleen handed him the goblet. “Wine helps to ease the torture of dealing with these three.”

  I thought it hilarious that Isleen included Lugh in her critique, whom she must have only just met. Lugh also enjoyed the comment, looking up at the stunning Isleen with a new glint of interest. The man was practically drowning in willing women, but it was the one who criticized him that he wanted. Typical.

  “She's taken,” I whispered to Lugh, and his face fell.

  “Pardon, my Queen?” Isleen raised a brow, her dark eyes flashing with fire. And I mean that quite literally.

  “How is Mimir these days?” I said by way of answering.

  “Obstinate,” she rolled her flaming eyes. “We have ended our relationship. For now,” she shrugged when she saw my rounded eyes. Then she took a seat beside the messenger, directly across from Lugh, and gave the High Prince a discerning look. “That does not mean I'd welcome the attentions of a man-whore.”

  The messenger choked on his wine, spilling some down his tunic. Arach casually handed Taran a brocade napkin, as he watched our chatelaine with keen interest. I watched her too. Normally, Isleen was the most proper faerie I knew, and she would never disrespect royalty so. But when it came to flirting, Isleen turned into a harpy. The more she liked a man, the more she tended to disparage him. That she would do so with the High Prince, showed just how strong her attraction was. However, the bargest didn't know that, and neither did Lugh.

  I suppose Lugh could have taken offense, but Isleen was a shrewd judge of character, and she had pegged him the instant they met. She didn't look at all surprised when Lugh laughed, and simply sta
rted sparring back.

  “I can hardly be held at fault when they practically lay down before me and spread their legs,” Lugh made a hopeless gesture.

  Taran started chugging his wine.

  “Would you prefer a warm drink?” I asked Taran. “Something to take away the chill of travel?”

  “No, thank you, Queen Vervain, I'm fine with this,” Taran blushed. “The wine brings its own warmth.”

  “How about being a gentleman, and helping them to their feet?” Isleen suggested to Lugh, tossing a thick length of her silky, sable hair over her shoulder. “They probably stumbled.”

  “It was a metaphor,” Lugh smirked.

  “Ah, so they don't actually fall before you?” Isleen said as if she had never doubted it.

  “Are you leanan-sidhe?” Lugh leaned forward, and regarded Isleen with intense eyes which were slowly becoming adoring.

  “Why?” Isleen sneered. “Do you want to check my teeth? Like one would on a horse?”

  I burst into laughter along with Arach. Taran reached for the wine pitcher.

  “I warned you to be careful who you bedded, didn't I?” I said to Lugh. “You went and made a reputation for yourself, and now getting a good woman is going to be so much harder for you.”

  “I like it hard,” he smiled at Isleen.

  “Yes, I've heard those rumors as well,” Isleen said with a straight face, but I saw her lips twitch.

  “Wait...” Lugh frowned as Isleen's barb hit its mark. “What rumors? Are there rumors that I screw men? I'm not into men.”

  “Of course not, High Prince,” Isleen sniffed in a way which implied she didn't believe him for a second.

  “I would start waving a white flag if I were you,” I said to Lugh. “There's a napkin right there. That should work.”

  “The battle has just begun. It's far too soon for surrender,” Lugh grinned, and I finally realized why he was so intrigued by Isleen.

  Lugh was a warrior, and more than that, he was an amazing tactician. The Tuatha had often sought his advice, even after Lugh had scorned them. The new High Prince of Faerie needed to fight for a woman's affections or he wouldn't feel as if she was worth winning.