Goddess Rebellion: Gargoyle Night Guardians Prequel

by Rosalie Redd

  He passed his elegant bed and the table for two, and she kicked off her flats. They landed with a soft plop on the hardwood floor, one after the other.

  When they reached the elegant bath, he set her down, her bare feet touching the cool tile. Against the far wall, three shower heads emerged from the walls, their jets focused on the pair of black granite chairs mounted back to back in the middle.

  Memories of past times with Pwyll swept through her mind. Of all the different places and pieces of furniture they’d initiated, the shower was by far her favorite.

  With an urgency strumming in her veins, she unbuttoned the back of her dress, her attention torn between relieving herself of the garment and watching Pwyll strip.

  He tugged his tunic from inside his twill pants. The muscles in his shoulders flexed from the effort, and that sexy smile, the one that had done her in from the start, formed along his lip. Like a peacock before a peahen, he straightened his back and flexed the muscles in each pec.

  She stilled and met his gaze.

  He raised an eyebrow, his beautiful eyes sparking. “Like what you see?”

  A laugh bubbled from her lips, and he joined her, his deep baritone echoing off the bone-white tiles.

  “How about this?” She shrugged the dress from her shoulders. The material slid over her hips and pooled at her feet. She’d worn nothing underneath.

  Hands on his waistband, he tensed. His gaze traveled from her exposed breasts, over her hips, and to the juncture between her legs. A low whistle eased from him.

  “Every time I see you, it’s like the first time. You’re beautiful and enticing.” His heartfelt words slipped right into Rhiannon’s soul. Gods, she loved this man.

  And, in that moment, she once again feared this might be their last time together. The uncertainty of it stole her breath from her lungs with a forceful pain that brought tears to her eyes.

  He smiled and removed his pants, an unspoken understanding passing between them. Despite his overwhelming confidence that he would defeat Gwawl, there was always the chance he’d lose, and they both knew that was a possibility. In the event that happened, she’d enjoy each and every moment she had with Pwyll, and she’d savor the memories for the empty years ahead.

  After removing his socks and boots, he straightened and met her gaze. She drank him in, admiring his gorgeous lips and strong jaw, his broad chest, and the dark hairs that trailed from his abdomen to surround his large phallus.

  A male fit for a goddess.

  He stepped forward and wrapped her in his embrace. The warmth of his skin and the press of his erection along her abdomen sent a rush of wetness to her core. With an urgency that matched her own, he encouraged her backward and into the large, elaborate stone shower.

  Pwyll flipped the switch, and water emerged in a swift stream. Much like a waterfall, droplets sluiced over their heads, and he tugged her in for a bruising kiss. The water’s soothing flow chased away all her thoughts except for her never-ending need for this courageous, warm, loving human male that had stolen her heart.

  They finished their kiss, and he drew them out of the stream. Water trailed down her cheeks. She wasn’t sure how much of the wetness was due to the water or her tears.

  Rhiannon grabbed a bar of soap from the selection nestled in a depression in the wall and rubbed it over her hands. Soap bubbled between her fingers, and she rubbed her palms over Pwyll’s firm pecs. Taking her time, she spread the soap along his well-defined abs, kissing and licking his skin where the water had washed away the bubbles. After a few minutes of divine bliss, she reached his erection and stroked him in her soapy palm from base to tip and back again.

  He groaned under her caresses, placed one hand against the finely cut stone of the shower stall to steady himself, and cupped her cheek in his palm. “Your touch drives me insane. Whatever you do, don’t stop.”

  Warmth at his encouraging words slipped deep inside. With deliberate intent, she continued to stroke him with one hand while cupping his balls with the other.

  The muscles in his thick, sinewy arms trembled. While she thought about taking her tease to the next level, he gripped her hand, and they rubbed the soapy lather over his hard length together.

  A low, needful groan escaped his lips. “My turn to tease you.”

  He took the soap from her and set the bar in its resting place. Before she could react, he gripped her hips and pressed her bottom against the wall’s cool tile. An instant shock traveled down her legs, goose bumps raising in its wake.

  Pinned chest to chest, he slid his hand from her thigh, over her hipbone and along her ribcage until he cradled one breast in his large, calloused palm. Droplets of water slipped over his shoulders and down his pecs, a trickle pooling in the space between them.

  “Do you remember the night we met?” Pwyll rolled his hips, pressing his erection against her abdomen.

  Warmth settled at her core, and she trailed her fingers over his shoulders, following the water’s path. “How could I ever forget? You found me enjoying a quick dip in the sacred pool.”

  “Indeed, you were a sight to behold. A goddess of rare beauty. But what captured my attention was the spunk and fire in your eyes. From that moment, I vowed to win your heart.” He flicked his thumb over her nipple. Sparks traveled along her sensitive nerves, lighting her up in all the right places.

  A smile she couldn’t contain tugged at her lip. “Hmm, I can’t remember what happened next. Perhaps I need a reminder.”

  A low chuckle eased from him, and he captured her lips with his own. She buried her fingers in his hair, the fine ends teasing the backs of her hands. His kiss became more urgent, more powerful, more demanding, and she gave in to him, just like the first time, when he’d joined her in the sacred pool.

  Rhiannon slid her hands over his shoulders until she reached his pecs. She pressed against him and urged him backward. He relented, and she guided him to the shower bench where he sat and tugged her on top of him. Water sprayed across her shoulders and down her back, but their mouths never broke contact.

  She sat on his thighs, and his shaft lay nestled between them, the plump crown resting below her breasts. A bead of moisture pooled at the tip. She brushed her thumb over the glistening droplet, brought it to her lips and licked the end. His delightful masculine essence filtered into her senses.

  “My love can’t resist the taste of me. I like that.” Pwyll clasped her chin and drew her close, their lips colliding in a bruising kiss.

  Rhiannon relished in his utter need for her and threaded her fingers in his hair. He broke the kiss, and their combined breaths echoed and competed with the water’s roar. She rose from his lap and knelt between his legs.

  “What are you doing, Rhi?” Pwyll’s voice was low and husky.

  “Playing.” She smiled and slid Pwyll’s erection between her breasts.

  A ragged gasp escaped his lips, and he grasped her shoulders, his fingers digging into her flesh. She delighted in his desire, enjoying how his eyes sparked with need.

  “Enough, Rhi. Tell me you need me before I die from your torture.” Pwyll growled.

  Rhiannon’s world lightened, a craving for her man stealing into her heart and setting up home. She wouldn’t let him suffer any longer. “It is you that tortures me, my warrior.”

  A brilliant smile, one that could rival the sun, bloomed on his face. “Oh no. Let me show you what torment truly looks like.”

  His grip on her shoulders tightened, and he lifted her onto his thighs then held her in place over his erection. To be physically moved like this, as if she were as light as air, sent a thrill coursing through her veins. He raised his hips until his crown nuzzled her opening. Wetness rushed to her core, and she squirmed against his hold, eager to impale herself on him.

  Slow and deliberate, he set up a rhythm, his hips thrusting his crown along her opening, but no further. The tease was more than she could bear, and she cried out.

  “Pwyll, please!”

  At last
, he settled her on him, slipping inside her inch by delectable inch. She squirmed to accommodate his length and girth, then started a rhythm of her own. He matched her sensual motion, and with their gazes locked and the water sliding over their skin, they moved together, joined as one.

  Time seemed to slow even as their pace increased. The sensations overwhelmed her senses, and her body reached its peak, an orgasm rippling through her entire being. Pwyll rocked her with his release, and they shared this special connection, one that left her breathless and sated but wanting more.

  She ran her fingers over the strong muscles in his chest and pressed kisses along his chin. He cradled her head, massaging the base of her neck. The gentle, rain-like patter from the shower echoed in the enclosed space and masked the small hitch that escaped her lips.

  If only they could be together forever, but he was a human and she was betrothed to a god she despised. This night together would have to be enough, and she’d make sure it would be an experience to last a lifetime.

  CHAPTER 5

  The trill of a small bird filtered over the balcony and into Pwyll’s bedroom, rousing Rhiannon from sleep. After their time in the shower last night, they’d moved to Pwyll’s bed where they’d made love twice more before falling asleep in each other’s arms. Her eyes still closed, she trailed her fingers along the bed’s sheet, searching for her lover. An empty, cold space greeted her. She opened her eyes and sat up.

  Sunlight streamed along the balcony and into the room, casting a warm glow across the floor. A jay, with its blue and gray feathers, hopped along the rail. The tiny creature opened its beak, and its song filled the empty space.

  Pwyll wasn’t in the room. Only a slight aura, the remnant of his carbon signature, remained on the pillow.

  She curled her fingers around the comforter, the material bunching in her palm, and closed her eyes. Using her innate magic, she searched for Pwyll’s specific pattern. Fragments of his unique imprint registered in her mind.

  He’d left hours ago, and he was too far away for her to track him.

  Rhiannon’s heart skipped a beat.

  Where was he? Why did he leave?

  A long exhale escaped her lips, and a strong urge to find him seized her.

  She slid her feet over the edge of the bed, strode across the room, and collected her dress from the back of a nearby chair. Pwyll had taken the time to pick her clothes off the floor and lay the gown across the piece of furniture. His sweet gesture brought tears to her eyes. She couldn’t imagine life without him. Anger spiked in her veins, her pulse pounding at her temple, and a hatred for the god of fire and pain burned hot and bitter in her soul.

  “I will do everything in my power to defy you, Gwawl.” She spit the words then threw on her dress with such force, one of the seams under the armpit ripped.

  Fortunately, the tear wasn’t too large. With a firm tug, she buttoned up the dress and slipped on her flats. She scanned the room one last time.

  A single folded paper lay nestled against Pwyll’s ornate mirror on his dresser, her name scrawled across the white parchment.

  Tingles of dread raised the hair along her arms. She opened her palm and called to the page. The paper zipped through the air with such force the edges shredded, and she clasped the single piece in her hand.

  With shaky fingers, she read his words.

  Rhi, I hated to leave you, but I can’t allow anyone to come between us, even a god. You are everything to me, and your kisses, your touch, your love are worth many battles. Today I ride to the sacred mountain to challenge Gwawl for your hand in marriage. By the time you read this, the deed will be done. I will be victorious, and we will be together for eternity.

  All my love, Pwyll.

  A tingle started in her shoulders and rippled down her arms.

  The page slipped from her fingers.

  “No.” She choked back a sob.

  Pwyll had known she would’ve stopped him. That’s why he’d left without sharing his plans on when and how he’d challenge Gwawl for her hand. Conviction propelled her forward, and she dematerialized, heading for the sacred mountain, and hoping beyond hope she arrived in time.

  Rhiannon materialized into a grove of trees alongside the highest meadow on the sacred mountain. She crept behind a tree trunk, placed her palm on the rough bark, and peered into the clearing. Knee-high grass blew in a soft breeze, the fronds bending and arching like waves rolling on a giant ocean.

  Tantum, Pwyll’s mount, stood on the far side of the meadow near a large boulder, but his rider wasn’t nearby.

  She tightened her fingers around a knot in the tree’s bark, her fingertips sinking into the firm husk all the way to the first knuckle. She forced herself to breathe and withdrew her hand before she caused harm to the tree.

  Where was Pwyll? Was she too late?

  No, she wouldn’t accept that as a possibility. He couldn’t be far away. She’d find him, no matter what.

  She closed her eyes and focused on his carbon signature. The warm buzz of his energy filled her senses. He was behind the boulder. The tension in her shoulders eased, and she opened her eyes.

  Her lover’s hand clutched a craggy piece of rock near the boulder’s peak, and then he fully emerged.

  Relief swept through her on a quick exhale, and her fingers shook from the force.

  He pushed himself upright, first on one knee then the other. After rising to his full height, he set his booted foot on the rock’s jagged tip. Strength and determination radiated from his stiff shoulders and the rigid set of his jaw. He withdrew his sword from the scabbard at his waist and raised his blade into the air. Sunlight reflected off the steel.

  “Gwawl, hear me!” Pwyll’s voice boomed across the land.

  “No!” Rhiannon yelled and bolted from her hiding spot. Her foot snagged on a tree root, and she tripped, her feet tangled in her long gown.

  “I issue a challenge…”

  She tumbled forward.

  “…for the hand of the goddess Rhiannon.”

  Her palms and knees collided with the forest debris scattered beneath the trees. Pain ricocheted up her arms and down her calves. She lurched into the meadow. Bits of grass clung to her dress, her hair, and her lips. She wiped the back of her hand over her mouth and rose to her feet.

  “Pwyll, no!”

  A bolt of energy, like lightning, rippled from the cloudless sky. The tip plunged into the grass. Soil and small rocks careened into the air in a brilliant arc. The dust settled, and a blackened circle remained. Gwawl stood in its midst.

  His blood-red robe stood out like a beacon, malevolent and sinister, which accentuated the hatred imbedded in his eyes.

  “Who dares to challenge a god?” Gwawl’s voice boomed across the expansive space, and the trees at the edge of the clearing seemed to quiver from the force.

  Pwyll squared his shoulders and set the tip of his sword against the stone. “I do. Prince Pwyll of Dwyfed, the one who holds Rhiannon’s heart.”

  Rhiannon grasped her skirt, lifting the ends above her feet, and bolted across the grass. “Pwyll! Don’t do this!”

  Gwawl’s attention riveted on her. A snarl crooked his lip. “You have a human lover?”

  She stopped mere feet from him and raised her chin. “Yes, he’s human, and one of the finest beings I know, god or otherwise. I love him, and love is something you will never have from me.” Her lip trembled. “It seems love or even empathy is a foreign concept to you as evidenced when you killed my mother.”

  “And a fine killing it was, I might add.” An evil grin, one that curled her toes in all the wrong ways, spread across Gwawl’s face. “Contrary to what you might think, Princess, I don’t need your love. All I need is your lands and to subjugate the lessor gods in your father’s care so I can continue to build my army and my wealth.”

  Oh, how she hated this god.

  Pwyll scraped the tip of his sword along the rock’s surface. The screech reverberated off the trees. “Not if I have anything
to say about it. I issued a challenge. Are you too afraid I’ll win to accept?”

  Rhiannon sucked in a breath. “Pwyll…”

  Gwawl’s laughter started as a slow chuckle then rose to a full-on chortle. “What chance do you think you have against me, mere mortal? I am a god.”

  Pwyll’s gaze tracked from Gwawl to Rhiannon. A tender smile eased the tension lines around his eyes. “My love for Rhi is boundless. Love conquers all, don’t you know?”

  Fear for him raised goose bumps along Rhiannon’s arms.

  He winked at her then glanced at Gwawl, his features hardening once again. “Besides, I did a little research yesterday after Rhi mentioned you planned to wed her. I’ve read every book written about the gods and vaguely remembered an applicable rule but wanted to confirm my knowledge. I found what I searched for in the Book of Regulations.

  “If a human challenges a god to a contest, then the god cannot use magic or cheat in any way. Seems Cernunnos, lord of the Otherworld, values fairness. Did you not know of this rule?”

  Rhiannon’s heart picked up speed. She’d forgotten about this edict. Maybe, just maybe, Pwyll had a chance. Hope, fragile and tiny, sprouted deep inside.

  “Come down here, human, so I can get a better look at you.” Gwawl’s harsh voice held a hint of contempt.

  Pwyll crawled over the rock’s ledge and disappeared from view.

  Rhiannon stepped into Gwawl’s personal space, poked her index finger into his chest, and whispered, “You will not harm him, or so help me, I will unleash a torrent upon you that you will never forget.”

  He gripped her hand and drew her finger into his mouth. With a swirl of his tongue, he sucked on the tip.

  The skin along her nape crawled as if tiny ants had invaded with orders to bite every square inch of her flesh. She jerked her hand from him.

  Tingles of energy flared from deep within, and the desire to smite him swelled with such force that sparks flared from her fingertips.

  But she couldn’t harm him. She’d accepted his tribute. Speaking of, she’d launched the bauble from Pwyll’s balcony. Her hand slid to her neck.