Horned God rising (Otherkind Kink: Horned Gods Book 3)
Page 1
Contents
Copyright
About the Series
Foreword
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Epilogue
About the Author
Excerpt: Caught in coils
Excerpt: Djinn and tonic
Copyright
Horned God Rising
By Stella Inox
Copyright © 2014 Stella Inox
Cover design: Hayley Stone
Cover image: Kiselev Andrey Valerevich/Shutterstock.com
All rights reserved.
Except as provided by the Copyright Act 1994, no part of this publication may be copied, reproduced or stored in a retrieval system in any form or by any means, electronic or otherwise without the prior consent of the copyright owner.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places and events are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.
Author’s note: All characters depicted in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older.
ISBN 978-0-473-29104-4
About the Series
This book is part of a broader series ‘Otherkind Kink’
Books Available:
Otherkind Kink - Djinn #1: Djinn and Tonic
Otherkind Kink - Djinn #2: Dun-Djinn
Otherkind Kink - Djinn #3: Djinn Rummy (Next release)
Otherkind Kink - Male Medusa #1: Caught in Coils
Otherkind Kink - Male Medusa #2: The Serpents kiss (Coming soon
Otherkind Kink - Male Medusa #2: A Vipers Embrace (Coming soon)
Otherkind Kink - Horned Gods #1: Hunted by Herne
Otherkind Kink – Horned Gods #2: Quarry of the Horned God
Otherkind Kink – Horned Gods #3: Horned God rising
Fairy tales #1: The Winter Prince (Coming soon)
Foreword
This story is a continuation of Otherkind Kink - Horned Gods #2: Quarry of the Horned God published by Stella Inox. It may also be read as a stand-alone story.
The Song of Amergin
I am a stag of seven tines,
I am a flood across a plain,
I am a wind on a deep lake,
I am a tear the sun lets fall,
I am a hawk above the cliff,
I am a thorn beneath the nail,
I am a wizard who but I sets the cool head aflame with smoke?
I am a spear that roars for blood,
I am a salmon in a pool,
I am a lure from paradise,
I am a hill where poets walk,
I am a boar ruthless and red,
I am a breaker threatening doom,
I am a tide that drags to death,
I am an infant who but I peeps from the unhewn dolman arch?
Attributed to Amergin Glúingel, Chief Ollam of Ireland in the Irish mythological cycle in regards to Cernunnos.
~
Chapter One
Ryannon once again waited patiently in the earthen chamber behind the vaulted door. She’d been in the same enchanted hollow a few short weeks ago, waiting to cross to the other side. That time, failure and death had seemed almost certain. The series of events that had brought her there had threatened to unleash a catastrophic disaster on the mortal Earth, and it was up to Ryannon to try all she could to prevent this.
Three months prior, Carin, an unlucky thief had attempted to steal what she thought was treasure hidden in the very vault Ryannon now waited in. Crossing unawares into Otherworld, the domain of the Sidhe Fae, she had been captured and sacrificed by Herne the Hunter, Lord of the Wild Hunt and King of the Forest, so that he might gain entrance to the mortal world for a single night.
That young woman had been caught fast by the enchantment on Herne’s torc the instant she seized it, thinking to carry it off as loot, and had been pulled through the portal to the Otherworld. She hadn’t known or understood the rules of engagement with the Sidhe Fae when she’d crossed over, and had unknowingly agreed to be Herne’s slave after he’d seduced her.
Rather than become Carin’s lover as he’d promised, he’d slit the thief’s throat, making her the innocent sacrifice that would allow him to cross through the Portal to earth on Samhain. Allan had bought her sad, bloodstained body back through the gate, and Ryannon had helped to conceal the body, resolving as she did so to do all she could stop the cruel and powerful Sidhe Fae Lord from taking any further lives.
The havoc the Wild Hunt might have wreaked in that solitary evening would have been devastating to humanity. Nearly the entire world believed that the Fae were a myth, rumor and legend with no basis in fact. The carnage, so narrowly averted, would have taught them differently.
Ryannon had volunteered to challenge Herne, and by winning, she was able to request a boon that he was honor bound to grant if the request was within his power. The favor had been simple: stay on your side of the veil.
She had won the challenge by the skin of her teeth; using the Fae powers gifted to her by her half-water sprite mother, a little help and a lot of luck.
Herne had been furious at being tricked by one so lowly as a half-breed female, and had vowed to kill her slowly and painfully; her favour had granted humanity freedom from Herne’s aggression, but at the cost of Ryannon’s life. Ryannon had one last trick up her sleeve…or in her hair, as it were.
She’d discovered something Carin had lost in the Otherworld; a machined metal screwdriver made from cold iron, and had hidden it in her hair. As Herne closed on her, beginning the ‘punishment’ he decided to inflict on her, Ryannon had drawn the screwdriver from its hiding place and thrust it between his ribs, deep into his cruel heart.
She had been forced to kill Herne to gain her freedom and her life, and thus had been on hand to see the rise of Cernunnos, the powerful Sidhe male who’d given her some assistance in a sticky situation before she’d faced down Herne. She shivered, remembering how he’d rendered that aid.
Whilst running from Herne, Ryannon had chosen the wrong path and placed herself within the grasp of an ancient Green Man, Jack in the Green. Jack had been ready to spill her life’s blood, stealing her power and her fertility, when Cernunnos had interceded and saved Ryannon’s life.
~
The green man tightened his grip and began spear into her when a voice that echoed with power and authority spoke.
“CEASE.”
Ryannon struggled, trying to lift herself away from the seeking head of that obscene prick, casting her eyes around to try and glimpse her would-be savior.
Shadowed in the gloom of that accursed clearing, stood a man so imbued with power that he almost glowed.
He was clearly a full-blooded Sidhe Fae. He stood proud and tall, in a loose linen shirt and black leather breeches which were tidily tucked into his polished, knee high boots. One hand lightly caressed the sword that rode easily at his waist. He had shoulder length golden hair that managed to gleam even in the dark, and his moss green irises glowed with power, appearing almost to float in the night.
“She is mine, Cernunnos” rumbled the green man, tightening his possessive hold, so that Ryannon cried out again in anguish.
“And yet I say unto you, HOLD” the man spoke softly, with a small smile. “Release her or face
me, the choice is yours.”
The recalcitrant monster gave a growl of fury.
Cernunnos drew his sword easily and she felt the enchantment in the blade whisper at the edge of her hearing.
“I am not all I once was” murmured the Fae warrior, “But I am still enough to vanquish you, Jack in the Green.”
The green man hesitated a moment longer before dropping her in disgust. She grunted as she hit the forest floor, before curling in on herself in a protective ball.
“Now be gone” Cernunnos continued.
The green man backed away carefully, never taking his eyes off Cernunnos. The vines that had imprisoned her drew back and away, slithering from the small clearing. The bushes rustled once and then he was gone, as if he had never been.
She didn’t unclench from her ball, instead shivering in delayed shock at the closeness of death and disaster.
A gentle touch rolled her unto her back and Ryannon flinched in fear, tears of anguish staining her face.
“Shhhh, easy” soothed Cernunnos. “He has departed and will not return.”
He stroked her hair way from her face to look in her eyes and his expression darkened. “But he has wounded you sorely. If you are to continue your flight from the wild hunt, we must fix what is injured.”
He slipped a solid arm beneath her back and pulled her into a sitting position, braced against his strong thigh. He lifted her arm and frowned at the deep wound on her wrist, noting her various injuries with a careful eye.
“Salve will not fix this I fear” he continued. Ryannon was shaking convulsively, nearly catatonic.
He brought her wound up and pressed it to his lips, coating them in crimson. Cernunnos savagely bit his own lip, letting the blood well and then flow, mixing with hers until it stained his roughly stubbled chin. He reached a slow and careful hand around the back of her neck bringing her closer and looked in her face questioningly, before his head dipped and his mouth brushed her own.
When she didn’t react, he kissed her properly, tongue tracing the unresponsive seam of her mouth until she gasped, parting her lips. As soon as she opened to him he lunged in, hot tongue touching her own with strong and sure caresses.
The moment his blood touched her lips, her body jack knifed in response to the piercing lance of power that swept through her. It was a vivid green and washed through her thoroughly. A surge of wellbeing followed the course of the pervading enchantment, and she moaned in pleasure, reveling as the force of it stripped fear, shame and horror from her, leaving a sense of contentment in its wake.
She came back to herself in increments, to find that she was wrapped in his arms, her fingers tangled in his golden hair as their mouths dueled and fought for dominance. Incredibly, her lust rose instantly at his touch.
She pressed her nude body nearer to his clothed form, forcing herself closer to his warmth, using his heat to drown out the lingering cold of the green man.
His mouth worked over hers, strong jaw and chiseled face warm and open but his eyes watched her carefully even as he kissed her skillfully. His bearded stubble rasped on her face as his lips caressed her mouth.
She drew back in confusion.
“Enough?” he asked enquiringly.
She blinked and looked down. She was still streaked with blood but all signs of her injuries were gone. No more scratches and deep gouges marred her flesh.
“Yes, thank you.”
He smiled roguishly, “The pleasure was mine”. He grinned wider when she blushed and covered her breasts with her arms.
~
Ryannon opened her eyes, sighing at the memory.
She’d been within a heartbeat of an incredibly messy and painful death when Cernunnos had stepped in. His intervention had saved her, and given her enough reserves to outwit Herne. His timely advice had also given Ryannon the key to overcoming the previous Lord of the Forest.
But why had he gone to the trouble? Was it because taking Herne down had given Cernunnos a shot at becoming the new Horned God? If that was the case, then why would his price for aid be that she be the Offering, and must return on Samhain?
A Covenant between the races had been created millennia ago, between Herne and those mixed breeds, of both human and Sidhe blood, who sought to flee death and terror at his hands and had taken refuge in the Mortal realm. In return for Herne and the Sidhe Fae staying on their side of the veil, the Mortal realm would send one fertile female sacrifice over the barrier each year on Samhain night. The offering would have to grasp Herne’s Torc of her own free will to cross over. She would be hunted by Herne and his Wild Hunt the moment she set foot in the Otherworld, but if she remained uncaptured till sunrise, then she could request a boon that, if within his power to do so, the Horned God must grant. If she died during the hunt, her fertile power would go to refreshing the land.
Unspoken, but known, is that the chosen female passed through the portal as a willing human sacrifice, prepared to lay down her life to keep humanity safe. If, however, Herne was able to convince, trick, or seduce the offering into giving herself to him wholly, as a slave, the barrier would have fallen on that Samhain, and Herne and his followers would have been free to spill blood in the mortal realm.
This is what he’d managed to do with Carin, who hadn’t been trained, and had not understood the impact of her actions. When the thief had crossed it was not yet Samhain, so some of the rules hadn’t been in play. But Herne had turned her to his will before destroying her, leaving a serious problem for the Guardians.
At great cost to herself, Ryannon had been able to set that situation right, but now that Samhain was upon them, promises that were made must be kept.
She checked the watch on her wrist. It was time to cross over.
She walked unflinchingly towards the Portal to the Otherworld. It was impossibly housed inside the earthen chamber she waited within and took the form of an ancient oak tree with the trunk split in twain to form a doorway. In the space between the halved trunks, a piece of ancient and elaborate Sidhe jewelry hung suspended; this brilliant, gold object was the key that opened the portal.
The jewel-like green leaves of this impossible tree jingled melodically in the small breeze that swept the underground earthen chamber. It bought the rich smell of soil and life, and Ryannon breathed deeply, enjoying the moment. When she came closer to the tree, and reached for what in the past was Herne’s torc, she hesitated in wonder. The item that spun, suspended in the air wasn’t a necklace of any sort anymore. It was a tiara.
The delicate white gold filigree of the diadem flashed in the diffuse light, gems inset into the coiled pattern winking and gleaming. The jewels, all the colors of an ancient forest, were set in an intricate pattern that banded through deep greens right out to rich tawny browns. It was stunning. Ryannon breathed a sigh of wonder, grateful that she needn’t wear the torc again.
The torc had been an exquisite piece too. But for all its beauty, it had been a slave collar, and Ryannon had been pleased when it had fallen from her neck upon her return to mortal earth. It had slipped away as she passed through the split oak trunk and returned to circle in its usual place, suspended in mid-air between the halved trunks.
With a little sigh of relief she reached for the gilded circlet; this exquisite piece held no nasty memories.
Just before her fingers touched it, she closed her eyes, gathering together scraps of courage. She’d bid her friends and family a fond farewell, and requested that they all steer clear of the earthen space. The rules had probably changed with the passing of Herne, and no one knew how having Cernunnos in control might affect them. She was glad when they’d agreed to stay away. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes, casting a final suspicious glance at the delicately pretty diadem.
Ryannon knew well what would happen as soon as she made contact with the magical item.
She watched stunned, as without any action of her own will, both her hands grasped the torc and brought it to her, untwisted the clasp, spreading the
two arms and placing it around her throat. It was heavy and cool against her skin. She had time to scream once, before power hit her like a punch in the belly, and she was dragged through a portal, twisting and screaming, into another world.
She tensed her muscles and brushed the headpiece lightly with the tips of her fingers, waiting for the usual enchantment to snatch her, take over her body and force the tiara atop her head before dragging her through the portal. However absolutely nothing happened, causing Ryannon to blink in confusion.
Chapter Two
Although flawless and clearly enchanted, even when she reached both hands out and picked it up, the circlet stayed inert in her hand. She turned it this way and that in a confused fashion, but nothing untoward occurred. She wasn’t compelled to put it on her head, or being pulled screaming through the gate.
Huh.
What now?
She looked around the chamber in bewilderment, as if it might offer answers or a solution to her dilemma. Nothing else seemed out of place though. She’d made a promise which meant that she had to go to Otherworld, or risk being oath broken. ‘Oath-breaker’ was not a nomenclature that she wanted to be tagged with. Even the exiled half breeds would shun one who broke a pledge. So what was she supposed to do?
She cautiously lifted her hand but just as she was about to settle it atop her silver blonde hair, a small lyrical voice tinkled inside her mind.
“Wait” it whispered.
Ryannon froze, hands still lifted, about to place the circlet atop her head.
“Once done, this action cannot be undone. Are you willing to accept the consequences?”
The grumpy woman inside her wanted to curse, but words had power in this place so she prudently swallowed her impulse and calmed herself down. She didn’t have time for games.
“What are the consequences?” she asked out loud, feeling a bit silly talking to jewelry.