“But we wanted to make something for the babe when she comes,” Pholis finished.
“When he comes,” Phrixus corrected, looking to Nysa for approval.
Babe? What nonsense was this?
He whipped his gaze to Nysa and took in her slim figure, one slender hand curled around her slightly rounded belly.
His jaw dropped and he was fairly certain his tongue dangled from his mouth. How had he not noticed? “You’re… You’re…”
“Yes.” Nysa laughed and bit her lip.
Phrixus jutted his chin proudly. “I’m to be an elder brother.”
“So am I.” Pholis pouted, likely because he hadn’t declared it first.
He tossed his head, clearing it of the shock, and dashed forward to sweep her into his arms. Pressing soft kisses to her cheeks, he spun Nysa around once before setting her on her feet. Then he dropped to kneel, and waved at his sons to gather them all together in one colossal embrace.
Oreius clasped them tight, his hearts overflowing with joy and love and hope. They were the most precious treasures in all the world.
His past, his present, and his future.
His family.
*****
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
Krenaiai – nymphs of wells and fountains
I’m so excited for this next installment in my Lords of Thessaly series. I had a warm fuzzies moment when writing the epilogue, and I hope you enjoyed it too!
Thank you to my fantastic beta readers, Ashley, Lyn, Robin, Gina, Jessica, Stacy and Nicola, for squeeing along with me.
A huge thank you to my review team and street team, who always offer their awesome enthusiasm.
To Kelley, my keen-eyed copy editor, thanks for sticking with me (and my typos).
Karie Deegan, my ninja PA, thank you for being my friend and confidante, even at 2 a.m.
Hugs and kisses to my family. I love you always.
And to my readers, I hope you’re ready for the next centaur brother, because he’s definitely ready for you! ;)
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, MASTERFUL LORD OF THESSALY:
Hidden in plain sight
Lapith noblewoman Delia has been leading two lives. One, as the dutiful wife of the centaur Lord Hector. The other, as a fierce Amazon warrior tasked with rescuing nymphs from a hellish fate of slavery. She’s just steps away from the largest rescue mission yet, and there’s only one thing standing in her way—her husband.
Unraveling her darkest secrets
As the heir to King Cheiron, Hector has borne the weight of an empire on his shoulders ever since his birth. With each passing year, Cheiron’s subjects look to him as their new leader. But he can’t rule a Kingdom when he can’t even solve the mystery in his own castle. The woman posing as his mate isn’t his wife, and the female avoiding him all these years is the one he can’t resist.
A love too late
When Delia disobeys the Amazon Queen to save Hector’s life, they are banished to Lapith lands—enemy territory. Forced to work together, they must ensure the survival of their races, and their hearts, before the coming war draws a line between them that neither will be able to cross.
Centaur lands, Thessaly
Year 1384 of the reign of King Cheiron II
Or the human year, 1689
Hector plastered his spine to the wall, counting five breaths before daring to sneak a peek around the corner.
And spy on his wife.
What in Hades was Delia up to? The entire castle at Great Meteoron scattered in a thousand directions. This morn, the sons of King Cheiron had gathered to discuss the fate of their Lapith prisoner, Deimos, who’d threatened Oreius’s mate, Nysa. The question of how to proceed was tricky, for the centaurs had avoided a bat
tle against the Lapith Prince Philaeus, now King, not six months afore.
Yet peace hadn’t come without cost. Thereus’s mate, Melita, had sacrificed herself, the half-nymph transforming into a tree.
Hector had been intent on arguing in favor of executing the bastard, rather than risk yet another of his brothers losing their mates. He and his mate might not be close, but he’d noted the look in Oreius’s eyes. The male would not survive another loss. Yet before anyone could speak, a guard had interrupted them, announcing Deimos’s escape. Half the castle guards were scouring the area, but it was unlikely anyone would locate the scoundrel.
Puffing, Hector scowled into the empty corridor. Was this truly what he’d fallen to? Sneaking about in the shadows, tracking his wife? Well, it was better than pacing inside his chamber, pondering his brother Petraeus’s bizarre visit. After everyone had settled, Hector had retired to his chamber but for an instant before his youngest sibling came knocking, uttering nonsense.
Follow Delia.
He grimaced at this childish game. There were probably a dozen better things for him to be doing in this moment. His father, the great and wise King Cheiron, had secluded himself within his study, leaving the chaos in his castle to Hector’s supervision.
He was the heir, after all.
Unlike the Lapith humans, they didn’t employ such titles as Prince or Princess. The role of sovereign wasn’t necessarily passed down by blood. It had to be earned. As the eldest, Hector had been designated the heir at his birth, but until he actually assumed the throne, the crown could be assigned to another. It was no guarantee that he would rule after his father.
If someone more worthy came along…
Hector snorted and peered around another corner, catching a glimpse of Delia’s golden locks. Who was he to rule a Kingdom, when he couldn’t even rule his own household? His mate led a secretive life. They resided in separate wings of his castle at Eastern Ridge and she only accompanied him when he pleaded with her for a show of solidarity.
The Lapith female he’d wed a decade ago remained every inch a stranger to him. An unspoken agreement rested between them, permitting this impersonal distance. He’d wed Delia to satisfy his father’s request for an alliance with her family. Though he’d bonded to her—their union forged by the goddess Aphrodite—Hector experienced no effects of their union.
He couldn’t.
He’d been cursed.
Before his betrothal to the Lady Delia, he’d dallied about with a nymph. Afterward, he’d sought to end the affair.
She’d not taken well to being spurned, and had cursed him.
He tugged on the collar of his leather tunic. If he so much as touched any female intimately, she would die.
Needless to say, he’d kept his hands—and his heart—to himself ever since.
Though his gut remained convinced of Delia’s infidelity, he’d uncovered no evidence of her lovers. He shouldn’t care, for he refused to claim her himself.
But today, oh, today was not the day to cross him.
Clenching his fists, Hector stalked forward, his hooves treading lightly on the alabaster tiles. The swaying of Delia’s angelic blond locks swept past another corner, and he rounded it after her, determined for once to catch her in the act.
And a not a damned clue what he would do if he did.
Sometimes, it was far better not to know the truth.
Petraeus’s strange counsel pressed into his mind, relentless. Follow Delia.
He swallowed his trepidations as he came to a halt at the end of the corridor, breathing deeply before turning the corner. Delia’s lilting voice chimed a series of phrases and a beam of light spread toward him. He stepped out into the corridor and gaped at the Portal that shouldn’t be there. His wife glided through the opening, and the illumination condensed, closing the gateway.
Where the hell was she headed?
If he didn’t follow her through…
Hector rushed forward, leaping through the Portal just as it closed around him.
***
Delia rose from kneeling before the Amazon Queen Hippolyta III. Her Queen. Though she’d been born into a Lapith household, Delia’s mother had been an Amazon. Their clever Queen had arranged the marriage of one of her greatest warriors to a Lapith nobleman, and Delia was the result of her cunning scheming.
All to wed the centaur Lord Hector.
And one day to rule alongside the centaurs.
For a decade, Delia had prepared for her role, training as both an Amazon and a future Queen. Some centaurs might believe they’d forged an alliance with the Lapiths through her marriage, but the truth was, no Lapith King would ever align with the centaurs.
The god Apollo had ensured that.
“Thank you, my Queen.” Delia bowed her head once more.
“Go, my child. May your feet be swift and your blade sharp.” The tall woman’s blue-grey eyes sparkled with intelligence and wisdom. Though none knew her true age, the red mass of hair piled atop her head bore no grey and no wrinkle marred her supple skin. Her name alone had invoked fear and panic into generations of warriors.
Respectfully, Delia backed from her Queen’s presence and then spun on her heel toward the meeting place with her look-alike. The Amazon Astris posed as Delia whenever she had other duties to attend to, which was most of the time.
“You’re late,” the female grumbled, passing through the sweeping branches of a willow tree. “I did my best to appear sympathetic to the centaurs, but if you think for one second that I’ll seduce that loathsome beast—” Scoffing, she shook out her pale locks, the hue bleeding to a bright auburn as she cast off the cloaking enchantment.
“Astris, I would never ask that of you. Besides, you know the Queen’s stance on this.” Hippolyta had been clear that no intimacy between herself and the centaur should occur. He was their key to ruling the centaur race. The involvement of hearts had no place in the governing of their people.
Her subordinate, Astris, bore no love for this mission, or the centaur she pretended to be wed to. Yet Hector’s attachment to Delia provided great freedom in their manipulation of the situation.
The Amazon tugged down the sleeves of her dress and stepped from the gown, handing it to Delia while she switched into the belted ivory chiton of an Amazon warrior.
A crack of twigs snapped from behind Astris. Delia froze, one arm half through the sleeve of her chiton. “Did someone follow you?” she whispered to the other female, her free hand inching for the blade tucked into her boot.
Astris blinked, twisting around to peer into the forest.
Before Delia could charge toward the possible spy, half a dozen Amazon sentinels emerged from the forest behind them and, with cries of war upon their lips, surrounded the woods around the willow tree.
Their circle closed in and the grunting, low puffs of a male rumbled in her ears an instant before the Amazons dragged a centaur through the brush and shoved him at her feet.
Delia gaped as the male raised his head, black locks falling across the smoky hue of his eyes, swirling dark in fury.
Hector.
Oh, gods. Just how much had he witnessed?
***
Hector’s horse reared, refusing to believe anything he’d observed.
It couldn’t be true.
Yet two females stood before them, and only one of them was his wife.
Which one?
If that weren’t bloody confusing enough, what was this talk about their Queen? His gut churned, the inklings of conspiracy and betrayal now stretched further than the infidelity of his wife.
He had to inform his sire. That was, if he made it out of here alive.
The golden-haired one who resembled Delia gawked at him while a dozen more Amazon warriors arrived and surrounded him.
“What do we do with him?” one whispered to another.
Hector swallowed thickly, his throat already sensing a noose closing around it. He was fairly certain he’d witnessed something he’d n
ever been meant to. How long had this ruse gone on for? Was he even wed to either of them? Bonded? He tossed his head, scowling at the hazel-eyed female pointing a blade at him.
“Take him to the Queen.” Her brows drew together as though questioning her own order.
Two Amazons snared his arms and spears poked into his hide. Aye, he’d best walk. Hector rose and followed the group to their leader. He only grasped pieces of their scheming, but it was enough to charge them all with treason.
Or to start a war.
He straightened his spine as he approached the Amazon Queen. Her blue-grey glower swept him, a frown burrowing in her forehead. “What is he doing here?”
Ah, so at least everyone recognized him.
“Queen Hippolyta.” The two sentinels released him and he inclined his head. Although these circumstances aroused his suspicions, he’d better play into their hands and save his hide first.
She cocked her head at him and stepped forward, her intimidatingly tall form and robust shoulders graced with the fur of a bear, the beast’s fangs crowning her head. “Lord Hector. A pity you have found yourself here.”
He tensed. Ruthless cunning flashed in her eyes. This woman wouldn’t spare him. Not for mercy, not for alliances.
In her cruel eyes, he saw his death.
He braced his shoulders, refusing to flee or to back down. “If you kill me, my father—”
“Your father would never know. Dear Hector,” she tsked, “you are at war with the Lapiths. All I need do is deposit you on their lands and they will gladly take care of you for me.”
Bloody hell. She was right. Perspiration iced down his spine. “You can’t do this.”
The Queen scoffed at him, spinning on her heel. “It’s already done.”
*****
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Brutish Lord of Thessaly (Halcyon Romance Series Book 4) Page 8
