by Rosalie Redd
GODDESS REBELLION
GARGOYLE NIGHT GUARDIANS PREQUEL
ROSALIE REDD
Copyright © August 2020 by Rosalie Redd
All rights reserved. The uploading, scanning, and distribution of this book in any form or by any means—including but not limited to electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the permission of the copyright holder is illegal and punishable by law.
This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.
For permissions contact: [email protected]
Cover design by Croco Designs
ISBN: 9781944419318
United States of America
CONTENTS
Foreword
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
About Rosalie
FOREWORD
The mythology of Rhiannon’s Celtic tale comes from the British Isles. Using the main premise of her legend, I’ve taken the liberty of embellishing her story and adding in a little paranormal flair. Enjoy!
CHAPTER 1
MANY MILLENNIA AGO SOMEWHERE IN THE OTHERWORLD…
“Y ou want me to marry Gwawl? No way. Not that horrid god.” Rhiannon rose from her chair. Her hip bumped against the table and her plate tumbled over the edge. The dish shattered, tiny shards and remnants of her breakfast eggs scattering across the floor.
“You will marry him.” Father’s voice scraped across Rhiannon’s nerves with the impact of a thousand tiny knives, and the walls of the giant Moratar tree, her home since birth, vibrated as if in fear.
Heat flushed through Rhiannon’s veins, and she curled her hands into fists. “How could you make me do this? I don’t even know the god, but his cruel reputation is known throughout the Otherworld.” Besides, I’m in love with Pwyll.
She’d never tell father that, though. Her love affair with the human prince was a secret she’d kept for months. There was no way her father would approve. Gods didn’t fall in love with humans.
“Ariland, maybe we should let our tempers simmer down for a bit.” Jereni, Rhiannon’s mother, leaned forward in her chair, lifted her small cup, and took a sip of tea.
A water sprite flew in through the tree’s open window and landed on her shoulder. The small bug glowed a vibrant red, zipped to one of the many flowers lining the ceiling, and disappeared among the petals.
Her father crossed his arms over his beefy chest. His dark brows pinched over his vibrant blue eyes, and his gaze never wavered from Rhiannon. “We don’t have time to debate this. Gwawl will arrive for the formal proposal tomorrow, and the wedding feast will occur three days later.”
“No! Absolutely not.” Rhiannon kicked a large shard of the broken plate on her trek across the floor. The bit bounced against the wall before disappearing beneath the table.
Father shook his head. “I’m sorry, daughter, but you don’t have a choice. Goddesses aren’t allowed to choose their mates.”
Mimicking her father, Rhiannon crossed her arms. “Arranged marriages are a disgrace to women everywhere. What if I refuse?”
“Gwawl is the god of fire and pain.” Father stomped to the intricate wood carvings hanging along the far wall. He pointed to the one that depicted the village then met her gaze. “If you don’t marry him, he will unleash a torrent of destruction upon the lesser gods. No one will survive.”
Rhiannon’s heart stuttered. Images of her friends and relatives flitted through her mind. She couldn’t imagine anything happening to them. Still, she refused to give in. “Why me, why now?”
Father sighed, his stiff shoulders deflating. “Gwawl has conquered several villages on his quest east, from the hills of Farnham to the valleys of Glenendon. From what I’ve heard, the strong warriors of the Ashbury Mountains fought him, but like so many before, failed. It took them weeks to extinguish the fires and determine how many had perished. Unfortunately, our magic isn’t strong enough to defeat Gwawl and his army.”
Rhiannon placed her hands on her hips. “But that doesn’t answer my question. Why me? Why now?”
Father crossed the distance between them and brushed his fingers down her cheek, his features pinched with pain and regret. “He’s heard of your great beauty and demanded to wed you to unite our kingdoms. As much as it burns my soul to do this to you, daughter, as king of this region, I couldn’t refuse.”
Rhiannon drew away and paced to the open window. The adjacent tree homes rose in a line from within the lake. Each one contained a family that relied on her parents’ good judgment. Tears stung her eyes, blurring her vision, and the tiny lights that rimmed the water trees sparkled like stars.
Hatred for this god she’d heard of but never met tightened into a coil in her stomach even as her heart ached for Pwyll and the love they shared. “Gwawl has no idea who he’s dealing with. If he thinks I’m just some pretty face, he’s got another thing coming to him.”
Jereni’s soft sigh filtered through the enclosed space. “Now that’s the daughter I know and love.”
“I’m sorry, my dear. If there had been any other way…” Father’s brow furrowed, and he trailed his hand down her arm. “Perhaps you’ll change him for the better as he grows to care for you and you for him.”
The coil in Rhiannon’s gut tightened so hard, bile rose in her throat. What would she have to succumb to for that ruthless god to even begin to care about anyone? She spun on her father. “Never!”
Sparks flew from her fingertips. The energy rippled into the floor, up the tree’s walls, and over the flowers along the ceiling. A squeal burst from several of the water sprites embedded in the blossoms, and the entire structure shuddered. Remnants of the magic lay heavy in the air, like smoke from a forest fire.
Mother gasped. “Rhiannon. That wasn’t appropriate and—”
“I can’t do this…” Rhiannon hissed.
Father inhaled a large breath, his features schooled as if he was ready to yell at her once again.
“…not right now. I can’t talk about this anymore. I’ll return before Gwawl arrives, I promise.” Not waiting for a reply, Rhiannon bolted for the door and slipped outside.
She stood on the doorstep, breaths heaving from her lungs. Several lily pads floated on the lake’s surface, rising and falling with the water’s ripples. Drawing on her magic, she called a handful to her, and they drifted to the edge of their family’s home.
With a desperation burning from the depths of her soul, she bolted across each of the plants’ firm bases until she reached the shore’s edge. Water lapped at her toes, the gentle rhythm bringing a fresh round of stinging tears. On a quick inhale, she drew in a large breath then released a high-pitched whistle.
Equus, her beautiful horse, bolted from the forest, his dark mane trailing in the breeze. He stopped along the lake’s bank, a soft neigh easing from his nostrils.
Warmth speared into Rhiannon’s chest, and she wrapped her arms around her friend’s neck. The thought of marrying a god who attacked, maimed, and killed others sent a shiver over her shoulders and down her back, raising the fine hair at her nape, but she couldn’t let the villagers suffer. Her mind spun as she tried to deal with this new reality, her pulse escalating in response.
After a long moment, she mounted her steed.
Only one man could calm her racing hear
t.
“To the human realm.” Rhiannon urged Equus forward, and the pair disappeared in a brilliant flash of light.
CHAPTER 2
Rhiannon settled Equus next to a pile of hay stacked along the far wall of the town’s stable. Soft nickers and an occasional snort echoed from the nearby stalls. The familiar scent of horses burrowed deep inside Rhiannon with each breath, calming her overactive nerves.
She swiped her hand along Equus’s coat and gave him a good pat. “You did well, my friend.”
Although Rhiannon could’ve dematerialized to the human realm on her own, riding her stallion had provided a much-needed outlet for her anger and frustration. Even now, a low hum strummed through her veins.
She stroked Equus once more then turned on the ball of her foot and headed for the exit. The sun’s rays permeated through several cracks in the stable’s wooden frame, and dust motes floated in the light like tiny stars. Eager to find Pwyll, she fisted her hands and hurried out the door.
She strode up the cobbled path and through the market. Vendors with clothing to spices to trinkets for sale lined either side of the street.
“Get your fresh fruit here!”
“A fine selection of cloth awaits you!”
“Hot tea and biscuits. The best you’ve ever had!”
The merchants’ sales pitches reverberated above the cacophony from the lingering crowd.
She stopped, closed her eyes, and brought forth her magic, searching for Pwyll’s unique carbon signature. Everyone had a unique impression, like an imprint on a page. Rhiannon was one of the few in the Otherworld who could sense these distinctive signatures. With her ability, she could locate anyone within the radius of a day’s walk and identify how long they’d been gone. She focused her attention on Pwyll.
In the garden…
Lightness in her limbs propelled her forward. Rhiannon brushed past a large man with a sack over his shoulder and almost bumped into a young woman holding a basket filled with potatoes. She picked up her pace, her feet skittering over the cobbled road. A few minutes later, with the market far behind, she came to the palace walls and the elaborate garden.
Rose bushes of all varieties lined a long pathway, vibrant dashes of color peeking from between the leaves. At the walkway’s end rested a large, ornate fountain. Water gurgled as it rushed from the fountain’s drain spouts—caricatures of a lion, dragon, wolf, and bear.
Pwyll stood alongside the fountain. Layers of thin chain mail hung from his wide shoulders and draped to his thick, muscular calves. His sheathed battle sword rested at his waist, hanging from a leather belt.
He tossed a handful of rose petals into the fountain’s pool, his bicep bulging from beneath his tunic. A tic flared to life in his strong jaw, accentuating the crook of his nose and his high, regal cheekbones. Black hair, the color of the darkest night, dangled loose around his shoulders.
Rhiannon’s breath stalled in her lungs, and she halted her progress down the path. From the moment she’d spied him by the sacred pool months ago, he’d had the same effect on her. It was like he’d been chiseled by one of the god’s sculptors just for her. No human male should look that tempting.
He scooped up another handful of rose petals from a basket at his feet and tossed them into the water. The ritual brought tears to Rhiannon’s eyes. She wiped them away with the back of her hand.
“Pwyll,” she breathed.
He turned toward her voice, focusing his deep brown eyes on her. A sexy smile, one that she’d burned into her memory, curled the corner of his mouth.
“Rhi.” He jogged toward her, his booted feet pounding the path with each step.
She bolted to him and threw her arms around his neck. As she breathed, his unique essence, a combination of musk and fresh-tilled soil, slipped into her senses and warmed her on the inside. Nestled against him, his strong arms holding her tight, she soaked up his strength, his warmth, and his undying love for her. Although she could squish his mortal body in an instant, she never would. He held her heart in his palms and that gave him power over her, power she gladly relinquished to him.
How could she ever be with another?
She couldn’t. Not now, not ever.
Conviction born of love lanced through her with such force, she cried out.
The muscles in Pwyll’s shoulders stiffened, and he drew away enough to look at her.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” His brow furrowed, his eyes flicking back and forth as he studied her.
Her chest tightened, forcing the breath from her lungs. “My parents. They betrothed me to another.”
A flinch rippled through him, and his mouth slid open. “What?”
Rhiannon trailed her fingers along his cheek, the bristles of his stubble teasing the tips. “Gwawl, the god of fire and pain, demanded my hand in marriage. My father consented. He couldn’t let that bastard destroy and plunder our village.”
“Don’t you have a choice?” Pwyll’s voice hardened.
“No.” Rhiannon stifled a morbid laugh. “Not as long as Gwawl lives.”
“Interesting.” He tapped his finger along his lip.
Rhiannon could practically hear the gears in his mind whirring. Where she reacted with emotion, he’d always had a cool head, evaluating all options. As such, he’d won many battles in the human realm and had earned his right to his princely title.
“I have an idea on how to get you out of this betrothal.” Pwyll clasped her fingers and brought her hand to his lips. With a gentleness belied by his strength, he placed a tender kiss along her knuckles. Determination glinted in the depths of his gorgeous eyes. “I will challenge him for the right to wed you.”
The cool fingers of dread rose the hair along her scalp. A mortal man was no match for a god. “What?”
Confidence emanated from his stark features. “I have read every book written about the gods, and there is something tickling the back of my mind about challenges, something that might give me a chance. Does this sound familiar to you?”
Her cheeks heated, and she shook her head. “Maybe I should’ve paid more attention in school when they covered the section on battle techniques, but I’m the goddess of sun, fertility, and domesticated animals. I’ve never needed to know about war.”
“Don’t worry, Rhi. I’ll see what I can find, and I will defeat him.”
“No. Don’t do this. Please.”
A tic appeared along his jaw, and color drained from his cheeks. “You don’t want to marry me and become my wife?”
Rhiannon’s lungs ached from the breath she held. “Of course I do, but I’m uncertain my father would allow it, and I’m not sure you…”
He took a step back, releasing her, and a troubled crease formed between his brows. “You don’t think I can win.”
“He’s a god…” She didn’t know what else to say, the words escaping her on a wheeze.
The muscles in Pwyll’s shoulders tensed, and he placed his right palm over the hilt of his sword. “I’m the best warrior in the entire human realm. I will be victorious and win your heart as well as your hand.”
He grasped a red rose from a nearby bush and yanked. The snap of the stem echoed in the space between them. He bent to one knee, his determined gaze never leaving hers, and handed her the beautiful flower. “I vow it.”
A flutter tickled Rhiannon’s stomach like the wings of a moth, soft and gentle. She accepted his offering, the rose’s sweet scent sweeping into her senses, placed the flower in her hair just above her ear, then cupped her warrior’s face. “You already have my heart.”
Pwyll stood, wrapped one arm around her waist, and tugged her to him. With his free hand, he nestled her head in his palm. “But I want so much more.”
She bit her lip and pressed deeper into his embrace. The brush of the exposed skin on their arms burned like a hot, sensual fire. “As do I.”
Pwyll brought his lips to hers, bruising the flesh with an intensity that bore straight into her soul. He tilted her head, sh
e opened to him, and he devoured her with his kisses. His passionate onslaught continued, fueling her desire for him, and they didn’t stop until their panting breaths echoed in the space between them.
“I will defeat this Gwawl.” Pwyll cradled her head with both hands and stared into her eyes. “Nothing will stop me.”
His willingness to risk his life for her beat against Rhiannon’s chest to the point of pain, and love for him settled deep into her soul, warming her in ways she didn’t deserve. Always pushing the limits, her strong-willed nature had landed her in trouble more times than she cared to admit, and she wondered why he could love someone so hard-headed.
She drew away from him and stared at the water fountain. The numerous waterspouts with their animal images seemed to taunt her. She couldn’t stay any longer. “I should—”
“Achos!” Pwyll waved his hand, motioning for his commander of arms to approach.
With his dark chain mail, he’d blended in with the castle walls. She hadn’t noticed him, but she should’ve known he’d linger nearby. As Pwyll’s personal guard, the warrior never wandered far from his charge.
“Yes, your highness.” Achos’s blue eyes, like the color of the sea on a stormy day, flicked from Pwyll to her then back again.
“When Rhiannon is in the human realm, see to her every need.” Pwyll placed his arm around her waist. “She will become my future queen.”
“As you command.” Achos bowed low, his broad shoulders thick with muscle.
What had she done? When she’d come here seeking Pwyll’s comfort, she hadn’t thought through the ramifications. As much as she wanted to be his bride, her confidence that he could defeat Gwawl waned. Even if he did win, she doubted her parents would accept him as her husband. He was a human.
Confusion, dread, and self-hatred churned in the pit of her stomach. Caught between her love for Pwyll and her devotion to her parents, she couldn’t deal with any of it.
