Horned God rising (Otherkind Kink: Horned Gods Book 3)

by Stella Inox

  “But you’d already chosen, hadn’t you?”

  Ryannon snorted, half in disgust and half in amazement that they could discuss her death in such equitable tones. Cernunnos drew himself up to his full height. He looked at her with burning pride and joy and little bit of awe and possibly love.

  “You have to say it aloud” he chided.

  “I Ryannon, sole daughter of Erikias and Hermain, agree to new terms on behalf of the mortal realm. I offer myself freely for the Hunt. In doing so, the covenant demanded by Herne and accepted by the mortal realms representative lies broken and forgotten, never to be repeated.”

  His smile at her words was extraordinary. He cupped her face in shaking hands and kissed her exuberantly. His scented hair fell in a silken cascade, surrounding them, leaving them in their own quiet world. She took comfort from him, refusing to think about the impending death that swept down on them. He stroked her face one last time before he stepped back.

  “If this must be done, better it were done quickly, yes?”

  She flinched at his reminder of what was coming but he ran his hand through her hair tapping on the antlers. She shivered at his actions.

  “It’s not Samhain.”

  “I can change that if you’re willing.”

  She thought quickly. She could stay with him for a year and fall more in love so that her heart splintered when the time came. At least he was honest about what he wanted from her. And if he could somehow fix it that they could take care of this now, then that would be better. Her family would simply believe that she’d been killed like all the others, but she could trust to Cernunnos that he would let them know that she died for something, and no more innocent Offerings were needed. Those that she loved would be safe.

  “Now. I don’t want to live with this hanging over me. Let’s do this now.” She smiled at him as bravely as she could.

  He picked up an ornate sword from the table as he led her towards the door and she spotted her sword.

  “Hey, that’s mine…-“

  “It won’t be needed” he interrupted her, and tugged her out the door and down the steps. She felt a pulse of magic throb from him, cutting through the air in a silent peal. It was a summons to the wild hunt. They really were going to do this.

  By the time they’d descended from the huge tree-trunk house, a group was making its way progressively closer. In the lead were Sidhe noblemen. But behind them were others. Women were forcing their way in defiantly. Other creatures followed them towards the larger gathering, curling lips at the Sidhe nobleman, some who shied away and others who embraced the newcomers.

  The true Hunt was forming. Not those few members whose perfection Herne had found acceptable but the creatures, men, and women, who were most closely aligned with the land, those who understood natural justice or base necessity, and weren’t afraid to mete it out.

  Cernunnos strode to the front of the group. They were silent for a few long moments before calls went up, howls and wails and cries. Ryannon cringed. Her hours were numbered and these fell creatures would be the one to hunt her down. He held out a hand to her and she took it, letting him draw her closer.

  “Brave girl” he murmured. “Be strong”.

  He stood still in front of them, his gaze serious as it touched on each of the members in turn. They were quiet, waiting for him to speak. He took a deep breath before his voice rang out like a peal over the crowd.

  “The time has come to undo the damage wrought by a twisted leader. To do so, we must revert to the time that is right. It needs must be Samhain. Join with me to reach the time that must come again.”

  The voices rang out again but this time they were filled with power. Controlled by The Forest Lord, who used their offering and added his own power, it rang and belled out over the valley, flowing like a viscous liquid across the land. Where ever it touched, time froze. Leaves were caught in mid fall. The streams froze and birds no longer moved in the sky. Between one moment and the next, that changed.

  Leaves leapt from ground to rejoin the branches they’d fallen from. Streaming light reversed its flow as the sun went backwards, withdrawing from its position high the sky to flood the land with a reversed sunrise before the darkness of night fell. Stars whirled backwards, retracing their usual paths until the sun peeped again on the horizon, flashing the same fading rays as last night’s sunset.

  Ryannon was awed. He’d turned back time, creating a do over.

  He was going to kill her on the same Samhain that had been and gone.

  Cernunnos proudly turned back to her. Dropping her hand, he advanced and pivoted to face her. He drew the sword from its sheath in a fluid move, one that spoke of the countless times he’d done so before.

  She stepped back. She’d thought that this was going to be a hunt not a slaughter.

  The Horned King did something unexpected. He reached up and cut his hand on a tine and smeared his blood on the hilt.

  “I am more proud of you than I can say. If given the chance, I would have loved you all your days. You accepted the compact, believing that you’d be the one struck down. This proves beyond all doubt that your heart and will is pure. However, when I asked you to join the hunt sweet Ryannon, it was not as the quarry.”

  He offered her the sword, hilt first. She took it silently, completely confused.

  “You’ve been given the power to heal a deep wound, when the time comes, don’t hesitate. Hunt swiftly and strike true.”

  His eyes never left hers as his formed changed.

  Chapter Twelve

  He rose above her, a massive stag in his prime. His antlers grew and spread into a huge rack that graced the top of his elegant head. His coat was a rich reddish brown, with a lighter cream on the underbelly and rump. He stood nearly two meters tall at the shoulder. As she watched, struck by awe, he roared a challenge, a series of deep guttural sounds that echoed.

  Awareness faded from his gaze to be swiftly replaced with animal cunning. He bellowed again, pawing at the ground with a wicked hoof, tines razoring as he swung his heavy head seeking escape.

  The gathered Hunt shuffled until there was a clear path into the forest.

  The hart bounded past them, hooves drubbing the forest floor and plunged into the foliage. As he passed, the Hunt lowered their heads in a silent bow of respect for his choice. Once all sign of him was gone, they turned as one to look at her.

  Ryannon didn’t know what to do. The antlers on her head ached, throbbing and she clutched at her hair in pain. She could feel her blood pumping harder, adrenaline surging as something ancient and primordial took hold of her.

  She turned her awareness inward and the elemental power within her responded. She shrieked and the Hunt shrieked with her. The urge to hunt, to seek and kill ripped through her. She was fast but not quick enough to catch a stag in his prime who on swift feet. She growled in frustration as the magic burned through her. She had the raw power, but not the knowledge or expertise to run as a wolf. However, she had a conduit to one who ran lost and alone.

  Sending out a stream of thought, her heart pounded as Ceol, the steed who had once borne Herne into battle raced to her side to do her bidding. Ceol was the word for music in the Sidhe tongue and the equine moved just like a song. He was huge, a stallion in his prime. His long feathery mane seemed to float around him in a dark plumed cloud and he greeted the startled half sprite with a loud whinny as if glad to be claimed by someone new.

  She leapt, straddling him with ease, the motion and movement coming back to her. The hunt whooped loudly, other horses cantered into the clearing, collecting riders and followers as they swept past. Other creatures, requiring no steed, cavorted and romped in excitement. Ryannon clung with her knees, eyes sharp as the hunt geared up for a pursuit not seen in the land for eons.

  She wheeled Ceol who answered to her movements easily and held the bloodstained blade above her head. The group fell breathlessly silent. She gave a wordless scream of blood lust, slashing down with the sword a
nd kicking Ceol, he jolted into a gallop after the fleeing hart.

  Ryannon had been reduced to a primitive being. The hunt coalesced into a seeking unit with some of the more canine like creatures ranging out to the front, noses to ground seeking the scent of their elusive target. The swifter beings spread to the edges to herd their quarry if needed.

  They were of one mind as the hurtled through clearings and woodland, hoof beats and breathing the solitary sounds the group made as they settled into the wild rhythm.

  It took hours. This victim was as wily as he was old. Even locked into the awareness of a stag, he didn’t make it easy for them. They were panting and sweaty when they finally cornered him in the early hours of the morning. He was boxed in by a rocky cliff face, his hooves scrabbling fruitlessly at the stony outcrop.

  As they flowed out to surround him, he reared, bugling in fury, swinging his rack with vicious intent as the canines moved into to hamstring him. He caught one with a full frontal blow, sending a limp body smashing into a broken tree stump. His pelt was dark with sweat and his moss green eyes rolled in fear as they encircled him, cordoning off any avenue of escape with a wall of living bodies.

  Ryannon sprang from Ceol to land on her feet, sword at the ready. She thrust her way fearlessly between the milling growling bodies who made way for her, melting aside to give her a view of the furious stag.

  She bared her teeth and raised the sword, sliding sideways in a crouch. She was blind and deaf to everything but the need to end him. Another creature got close and a brutal swipe of horns sent it howling and bleeding to the back. She snatched the chance and darted forward swinging the sword up but he countered, his rack coming down defensively and she was forced to dive aside or risk grievous injury. He charged her downed form and she thrust the sword blade upward feeling it punch through the thick hide on his chest.

  He slowed in pain and staggered, trying to swing his antlers at her one more time as if to take her with him. She twisted the hilt, turning the blade, seeking his heart and he dropped to his knees. Blood burst from his chest and his mouth in a wet, sticky, warm rain.

  The hunt fell silent, withdrawing as if to leave them enclosed in their own small space. She grabbed the huge rack at the bottom, still lost in the primitive fugue and jerked it up, bicep protesting the weight, until his eyes met hers. He tried to stumble to his feet again but the strength fled his back legs and instead he staggered curling inward, falling to the ground. The weight of his descending body dragged Ryannon down because she refused to release the sword. She was there to see the awareness flood back into his eyes as his blood pumped steadily out through the gaping wound in his chest, drenching them both, and a great deal of the ground around them.

  Pain made his eyes dim as he struggled to breathe and his eyes turned pleading as he looked at her, self-aware, and knowing that he was drowning in his own blood. The blood lust dropped from Ryannon leaving her cold and alone. She looked dully at her bloodstained hands, gripping the sword she’d plunged through the previously majestic wild stag form of the man that she suddenly knew she loved. She gasped raggedly, horrified and suddenly sickened by it all, tears springing to her eyes as her hands hovered uselessly over the sword that had already killed him, even as he still lived.

  Illaynos, the Sidhe with the long inky black hair, turned agonised, whiskey colored eyes on her.

  “Finish it” he implored. “You have to finish this. He lingers in pain.”

  Tears flowed hot down her face and a strangled sob echoed around the clearing.

  “Please” whispered the Sidhe warrior quietly.

  She dashed away the useless moisture with an impatient hand. If he had been strong enough to start this, she’d be strong enough finish it. She wrapped her hand around the blade and looking him in the eye, she placed a gentle hand on his blood stained face. His gurgling breath bellowed fitfully and with one final look and a last sob, she rammed the sword home, twisting to ensure it cut his heart.

  The great body spasmed once and then went still. There was a moment of gratitude in the green orbs before the intelligence dimmed and faded away, lost to the world, bled out with the pulsing crimson life that still ran in rivulets.

  The final exhale slowly left the shredded lungs and it was done.

  The King had fallen. Long live the King.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ryannon was ruined inside.

  She gave a broken sound of pain as the great stag collapsed inwards, the form changing until it was the bloodied but still beautiful body of the Forest Lord. The sword made a sucking sound as she pulled it from his heart with a strangled cry and cast it away.

  His eyes were open but the life and mischief that had so enchanted her was gone. Her fingers shook as she smoothed the eyelids closed. He might have looked like he was sleeping if not for the blood smeared front. His body wavered in and out of focus as her lashes went wet with un-spilled drops. As if it might make a difference, she straightened his shirt, trembling fingers smoothing away wrinkles, heedless of the blood that soaked it.

  “Why?” she whispered to his still form.

  One of the hounds lifted its head and gave a mournful howl, the rest of the pack either joining or dropping their heads in sadness and respect. Grieving laments rose above the trees and echoed through the dimness as the wildest ones gave voice to sorrow.

  She wasn’t sure how long she sat weeping, but a gentle touch stirred her from her reverie.

  “Lady? You must let him go now. You hold him here when he must move on, and this saga must be complete before the sun rises.” The one known as Illaynos cast a concerned look at the signs of impending dawn on the horizon.

  The devastated woman clawed the tears from her face and rose woodenly to her feet, stiff from sitting still for so long. She turned sapphire eyes on the Sidhe warrior who was examining the small antlers that sprouted from her brow with a circumspect gaze.

  “What do we do now?” she asked dully, grey from sorrow and fatigue.

  He drew her away from the body respectfully, as if she might be breakable.

  “Now we wait. We wait and we hope.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Ryannon was once again forced to watch the land take the body of a fallen Forest Lord.

  The last time, had been at Cernunnos’ direction but this time, unprompted and unguided, decorative ivy burst from the bloodstained ground beneath his body and wrapped his still form in gentle tendrils. Tiny white flowers bloomed along the greenery as it drew its sad cargo into the bosom of the earth until all that remained of the vibrantly beautiful male was bloodstained soil.

  The rabble surrounding them burst into speech, a babble of voices overwhelming the small clearing. As the burial took place, Illaynos’ s hand had tightened on her arm, growing tense as Cernunnos was taken. She looked at him, faintly curious as to the Sidhe’s growing excitement but unable to rustle up enough enthusiasm to ask him.

  His whiskey colored gaze was blazing, like a warm flame and his tall frame was quivering. “The source of his power remains with him” he hissed at her. “The land has not forsaken him!”

  Her interest piqued, she shook away the lethargy.

  “Explain” she demanded.

  “The avatars manifest an outward sign of their custodianship.” His eyes once again drifted to her brow. “Had the land abandoned our Lord, the emblem would have departed to choose a worthy successor.”

  Ryannon blinked in surprise recalling Herne’s Death.

  ~

  Cernunnos straightened from where he’d been nonchalantly leaning against a tree, and strode forward to where Herne’s bloodstained body lay.

  He stopped, crouching beside the body and murmured a couple of words in a wry tone, which Ryannon couldn’t hear from where she stood.

  He leaned in and purposefully cut his finger on one of the horns. As soon as his blood touched the tine, it crumbled, turning into golden flickers that sparkled and began to churn. The rack of antlers vanished completely, di
ssolving into a growing pool of glimmering light that shone brighter and brighter, swirling and shifting with power.

  There were shouts and yelps of excitement from the Sidhe Fae, and they converged on Herne’s body, forgetting Ryannon and Allan.

  The cloud of coruscating light rose and darted through the crowd, here and there as if seeking something. As it approached the Sidhe, each stood still hopefully but the light darted away, moving from Fae to Fae. It spun quickly until it returned to circle around Cernunnos, who had watched the drama with avid eyes.

  He gave the power that hovered before him a smile that was more a challenge then a greeting.

  “I accept” stated Cernunnos.

  The cloud billowed out to envelope him, and he inhaled mightily on a pained cry, his green eyes flashing.

  The power vanished and Cernunnos dropped to his knees holding his head.

  ~

  Hope dawned. She seized Illaynos’ arm with a tense hand.

  “Is he still alive? Is that your meaning?”

  The tall Sidhe hesitated.

  “He is dead” he said, speaking slowly. “You saw him fall but death here is oft times a transition rather than an ending. The land does not forget those who seek to uphold natural law and may sometimes show mercy…”

  “What do we do?”

  Illaynos shook his head.

  “We can do nothing. We get on with our lives and accept the sacrifice he made. We live with hope and face the dawn with courage. He died well, his blood spilt in attrition for the actions and mistakes of others. He may return to us or the power may leave his remains and choose another, time will tell.”

  “So what, we just forget this happened and walk away?”

  His eyes flicked up to the budding antlers.

  “You rule in his stead. Command us.”

  At his words, the clearing fell silent and all in it turned to face her. They waited silently with a mixture of trepidation and fear. Ryannon felt her heart rate increase. Once again they looked to her. She took a moment to compose herself.