He glanced at Enyo, who nodded in encouragement. “We’re going to go hunt some bull. They might spot an army coming, but they won’t detect us. We’ll slaughter as many of those savages as we can before they ever step close to your throne again, brother.”
“You have my thanks, and my gratitude,” Rhoetus inclined his head, “but, by the gods, Demoleon, be careful. They’re treacherous foes.”
“Aye, well I know it.” He dipped his head and led Enyo away from the crowd, toward his chamber. While he strapped various blades to his body, including his favored sword, she slid the sword of Aegeus into its sheath across her back.
He studied his female, his mate, his match in every aspect of his hearts. “Are you ready, Strinklia? Once we enter their lair, there is no turning back. Not until we’ve slayed every last one of them.”
She slipped her hand against his and pierced him with her sparkling stare. “I’ve never been more ready. I’ll fight beside you, my love, until we’ve bathed in the blood of every minotaur on this island. Until we’ve avenged our families. Until we’ve made our home safe for our children.”
Tenderly, he ran his hand along the side of her face. She closed her eyes and sighed against his palm.
Then she opened her eyes and grinned fiercely.
His brave and fearsome harpy.
She truly was a monster. Bred from myth and legend.
And he couldn’t be any luckier to be fighting at her side.
* * *
Glossary
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
hubris – excessive pride toward or defiance of the gods
Pythia – Oracle sacred to Apollo
Acknowledgments
Demoleon and Enyo’s story in Fire’s Mark was definitely a fun one to write. Sworn enemies make the best lovers :) The end is near, so prepare yourselves. War is coming.
Thank you to my awesome beta readers, Ashley, Gina, Lyn, Robin, and Nicola, for your always enthusiastic help.
A huge thanks to my review team and street team.
To Kelley, my keen-eyed copy editor, thank you so much!
Karie Deegan, my kickass ninja PA, the sassiness in Enyo might have been inspired by someone. Not saying who ;)
Hugs and kisses to my family. Love always.
For my readers, I hope you have fun with this one. Get ready for an epic battle!
Meet Rachael
USA Today bestselling and award-winning author Rachael Slate resides on the West Coast of Canada with her husband, two children, cat, and dog. Plus hummingbirds, songbirds, mason bees, and the occasional butterfly in her garden. When not writing, she's probably thinking about food (cooking, baking, or watching cooking shows). She also adores the outdoors--running, hiking, canoeing, camping, swimming, etc--so that helps to offset her culinary obsession!
Rachael writes sizzling stories that blend the lines between mythology, reality, and fantasy. In her worlds, you'll encounter strong, sexy alpha males and the fierce, capable heroines who challenge them. And always, scorching hot romance.
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Also by Rachael Slate
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: NEVER MATCH A DRAGON
BOOK 8: IN WOLF’S CLOTHING
HALCYON ROMANCE BOOKS:
HALCYON ROMANCE SERIES:
BOOK 1: MOON BORNE
BOOK 2: EARTH BORNE
BOOK 3: WATER BORNE
LORDS OF THESSALY SERIES: (series now complete!)
BOOK 1: WICKED LORD OF THESSALY
BOOK 2: BRUTISH LORD OF THESSALY
BOOK 3: MASTERFUL LORD OF THESSALY
BOOK 4: UNTAMED LORD OF THESSALY
BOOK 5: LOST LADY OF THESSALY
LORDS OF KRETE SERIES:
BOOK 1: WATER’S MARK (A ZODIAC SHIFTERS PARANORMAL ROMANCE: CANCER)
BOOK 2: EARTH’S MARK
BOOK 3: AIR’S MARK
BOOK 4: FIRE’S MARK
BOOK 5: AETHER’S MARK
CURSED IMMORTALS SERIES:
BOOK 1: SHADOW BORNE
Preview of Aether’s Mark
Want more Halcyon Romance? Read on for an exclusive sneak peek at the first chapter from Book 5 in the Lords of Krete series, Aether’s Mark, coming soon!
She guides the paths of others
Minthe of the Asteriae, star nymphs, possesses the power to light the paths of lost souls. The only future she can’t navigate is her own. After being imprisoned by the ruthless Lapith King, she’s instructed to aid her rescuer—an enticing stranger from a faraway land who desperately needs her clarity. Yet his haunting past and the nebulous future before him are both so uncertain, helping him threatens to extinguish her own light.
His mark is written in the stars
Eagle shifter and Master of the Aether, Lord Rhoetus lives in the in-between. As the rightful King to the centaur throne of Krete, he knows his destiny and his path, until a fiery nymph challenges him with another future. On the verge of an unforgivable act of betrayal, he’ll have to choose between his mate and his Kingdom, because he can never have both.
Trapped in the starlight of their Fates
War descends and even the light of their love might not be enough. When Rhoetus and Minthe fall victim to the darkness lurking inside them, saving their world means first saving each other.
CHAPTER ONE
Centaur lands, Thessaly
Year 1384 of the reign of King Cheiron II
Rhoetus, Commander of the Aether, Lord of Krete, and rightful heir to the centaur throne, closed his eyes, savoring the soon-to-come success. He’d underestimated just how brutal and enormous the centaur army of Thessaly was.
Soon, they’d be under his command.
Aye,
he could almost taste the honeysuckle mead his father always poured in celebration. Luscious, ambrosial, and…
Minthe. Bloody hell. Ever since he’d met that strange nymph, Ekho, he hadn’t been able to get her daughter’s name out of his head. Minthe. Ekho had pleaded with him to aid her daughter, had sworn he’d not regret it. Ha. The future he’d long awaited was so damn close. Rescuing a nymph was a distraction he simply couldn’t chance. Not when victory was within his grasp.
He flashed open his eyes and sniffed the air. A moment earlier, these tunnels beneath King Philaeus’s dungeon had been stale, rank, and reek with damp earthiness. But now, all he inhaled was pure sweetness. Thin beams of light slashed through fragmented cracks in the stone walls, not wide enough to let in fresh air, so from where did this honeyed scent originate?
He’d been heading deeper into the maze, memorizing every inch in anticipation of the Amazon rescue, but this sugary fragrance drifted from the right, so he headed in that direction, tracing that part of the dungeon instead.
Rhoetus cocked his head, sniffing deeply, and likely looking a fool, as he treaded cautiously through the narrow corridor. There. The scent, heavy and thick in the air, stemmed from the occupant of the cell on the far right. He swallowed hard and shuffled his hooves. Did he truly wish to venture to that chamber? Most assuredly, disaster would await him if he did.
And yet… He quirked his lips and strode forward. He’d been damned for a long time, nearly his entire existence. Nothing made him back down, and certainly not such a lovely fragrance. Besides, these cells held nymphs. What possible harm could they cause him?
A whistle low on his lips, he stepped in front of the bars and peered inside.
In the far corner, a flash of fiery locks whipped in the air as a maiden whirled about. “Who are you?” a sultry voice demanded from the shadows.
His mouth dry, words clogged in his throat. He could barely even see her, and yet she’d dumbfounded him. Mayhap that was her special power. Stealing speech. Each of the nymphs imprisoned by King Philaeus were being drained of their unique gifts.
Forcefully, he cleared his throat. “Well,” he coughed, then deepened his voice, “I could be your knight, fair maiden.” A dashing wink sealed his success. Many of the nymphs had begged him to free them. Surely, she would do the same. And be oh-so-grateful afterward. He grinned, intoxicated by her sweet scent.
“No, thank you.” Her reply was curt, her tone cold enough to freeze the desire right out of his bones.
“Pray pardon, lass?” He squinted, trying to assess her properly. The maid was a prisoner of a fiendish King. Why wouldn’t she wish to be freed?
“If you’re quite finished gawking at me, please take your leave.” She rose, a shadowed figure with hands perched on hips.
The saucy wench. How dare she refuse his aid? “Mayhap you’ve been stuck in this prison a little too long, love, because I’ve just offered you freedom. Have you forgotten what that is?”
“Indeed, I have not. But you will kindly leave me alone. Now.”
Indignation and confusion blasted through him, and he gritted his teeth. “Fine. Rot in here, if you like. And when the Amazons come, I’ll be sure to pass along your wishes to them, too.”
“Amazons?” She rushed forward, close enough for him to assess.
Sweet Zeus. Straightening, he pushed back his shoulders, and clamped his jaw to prevent it from dropping to the ground.
She wore a flowing blue gown but he caught glimpses of her curvaceous figure, which only made his mouth dry once more. Hair that flowed like a river of cherry-red lava cascaded across her lithe, petite form, framing skin as creamy and smooth as pure marble. Blue eyes flashed with bright intelligence at him from within a lovely pixie face. Lips the hue of ripe berries rounded and fine brows drew together over her eyes, studying him in keen interest.
Her delicate face tilted toward him, she inched nearer, and the closer she came, the deeper the realization sank in, down into the depths of his bones.
He hadn’t been wrong about her leading him into temptation—and likely damnation, too. Because the beauteous creature before him wasn’t just an imprisoned nymph he’d like to rescue.
She was Minthe.
* * *
Minthe frowned at the gaping centaur who wouldn’t stop ogling her. What was wrong with him? Even more curious, what was he doing here?
Despite his offer of aid, she didn’t wish to be rescued. Certainly not by a male who obviously desired only one form of gratitude. Mmm. Tempting. As a nymph, her nature allowed her to detect arousal in others, even to control it. Perhaps if she dampened his, he might recover his ability to speak. Indeed. She closed her eyes once, seized onto the tendrils of desire winding about his aura, and dispersed them.
The male blinked, opened and closed his mouth, then charged forward and glared at her with a penetrating scrutiny.
Dear gods. Her throat tightened and she had to reign in her own sparks of desire. Through the bars, his mismatched eyes—one dark like his locks and one a vivid blue—perused her. Not only were his eyes striking, but his entire presence daunted her. Wild, unrefined, and unpredictable. The hue of his horse hide and his unruly long locks a burnished mahogany that glinted whenever it caught the flickers of light. This massive centaur towered above her height, his human upper body flexing as he crossed his arms. Pectorals and biceps bulged beneath metal arm bracers. An embroidered leather strap slung across his chest and one shoulder, leaving bare his ropy muscles chiseled from solid bronzed flesh. The lower portion of his carved abdomen blended into a formidable beastly half, bigger than any horse she’d ever seen. One enormous front hoof stomped and the thud vibrated beneath her feet, making her quiver. His nostrils flaring, he snorted and veered away from her.
His step was commanding, taking possession of every inch of ground he strode upon. Even as he marched from her cell. “Suit yourself…Minthe.” He winked over his shoulder and vanished into the air. She gaped after, a saucy retort on her tongue that he’d missed.
Arghn. How does he know my name?
Minthe folded her arms and paced the confines of her prison. The male was infinitely puzzling. A deep part of her had stirred at his presence. There was something alluring about him, about more than his physical form. And how in Hades had he disappeared into nothingness?
Almost like I can do.
She swallowed hard and jolted at the sound of footsteps coming down the hallway. He’s come back.
She leapt toward the cell door, but reared at the sight of filthy, burly, human guards. Oh, curse them.
“Ho, nymph. You know what to do.” One opened her cell door while the other waved for her to extend her arms to be secured with manacles.
Most unfortunately, she did. Ever since they’d captured her two months earlier, it was the same ritual. Be taken to the sacrificial alter and drained of her powers.
If not for them weakening her, she might have devised a way to escape. That was, if she could determine where her mother was being held first. She refused to leave this place without her.
Minthe hung her head and did as the guards beckoned, flinching beneath the cold metal enclosing her wrists. An hour later, they returned her to her cell, even weaker than before. How much longer until there was nothing left of her to drain?
The pitiful stares of her nymph sisters had haunted her through the bars of their cells as they’d passed them. The arrogant and mysterious male had mentioned something about a rescue. Dare she hope to trust him?
“Truly? You would rather undergo that torment than accept my aid?” A masculine voice droned from the darkness in the shadows across from her cell.
Her body weary, she managed to lift her head. “Were you watching the entire time? Did it entertain you?”
“Easy, lass.” He stepped forward, emerging into the thin cracks of light. Empathy softened his features. “I’m a friend of nymphs, not an enemy. What I told you is true. The Amazons are planning your rescue.”
Sh
e marched to the bars and crossed her arms. “Is that how you know my name? How long have you been spying upon me?”
“Nay, not spying.” His eyes flashed wickedly. “Reconnaissance.”
Her mind circled back to the supposed rescue. “So, are you aiding the Amazons or hindering them?”
He clutched a hand to his heart. “Truly, your lack of faith in me wounds.”
She scoffed at his playfulness. “Well, what is your name then?”
“Lord Rhoetus.” He slipped into a low bow, one front hoof elegantly tucked beneath him. “From the Isle of Krete, at your service, milady.” Rising, he set his hand on the lock. “Now, will, you allow me to free you?”
Krete? How odd, but she shoved her questions aside for later. “No, I can’t go with you. I’m not leaving here without my mother.”
“Ekho, right,” he purred.
She gaped. “How would you know that?”
A lopsided grin curved his lips. “Because your mother sent me to rescue you.” He tapped the side of his side. “I heard her voice, inside. Thought I might have gone mad, but clearly, I have not.” Puzzlement crossed his features as he fixed his scrutiny upon her. “Your mother, huh.”
“Is she well then?” Minthe wrung her fingers. “I’ve been so worried about her.”
“As far as I could tell, aye.”
She regarded him, tilting her chin. “Then I will accept your aid in rescuing me. Lead the way, centaur.”
Fire's Mark (Lords of Krete Book 4) Page 9
