Moon Borne (Halcyon Romance Series Book 1)

This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events, places, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2015 by Rachael Slate

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

First Edition October 2015

Edited by Kelley Heckart

Cover design by NovelArt Designs

Formatting by Debra Staples

ISBN 978-0-9947648-9-8

Hold strong, youngling.

She’ll either enslave his heart…or tear it out.

As an Amazon warrior, a slave is the last thing Kyme would ever willingly become. At least before the slaver Arsenius threatens her sisters. To protect them, she agrees to be his captive and plans to slit his throat the moment she gets the chance. Though she’s determined to hate Arsenius, the unexpected kindness of his touch and the growing passion between them stay her knife. He’s a man so dangerous she just might dare to trust him.

He’s endured every torture, except the one that could actually break him.

For Arsenius, his mission was simple—capture and deliver one of the fiercest Amazon warriors, Kyme. In exchange, he’ll receive the location of the sister he’s spent years searching for. But Kyme’s selfless dedication to the goddess Artemis entrances him. Her pure existence is so different from his dark past and the bleak life he now leads. When Kyme becomes master and his heart the slave, nothing will stop Arsenius from failing his mission.

Sometimes, the surest path to freedom is forged in ecstasy…

Possessing Kyme as his slave isn’t enough. Arsenius wants more. When the gods intervene, they’ll risk more than their duty to the past to be together…Yet never has surrender been so sweet.

Moon

When the Olympian gods overthrew the Titans, they divided the rule of the world. Zeus proclaimed himself Supreme Ruler and governed the skies. Poseidon claimed the oceans. The Underworld, and the souls of the dead, fell to Hades. All were content with the arrangement.

Until Hades met Persephone.

Their forbidden love blasted through Mt. Olympus, initiating a cataclysmic rift between the gods. The unbalance in the heavens nearly shattered the fragile human world below. In punishment, Zeus cursed Persephone. Nine months of each year, she would remain by her mother’s side, tending to the human harvests. The other three months were hers to spend with her husband, Hades, in the Underworld.

The arrangement pleased none.

Centuries have passed. As humans turn their devotion to Science, the powers of the Olympian gods diminish. In an attempt to regenerate their divinity, the gods have procreated, breeding new species of being—such as centaurs, winged ones, and mermaydes. With the unique strengths of their individual godly parents, these descendants have thrived in their own worlds, alongside humans but hidden from view.

The rift in Olympus widens as the gods gain new strength. When the Fates intervene with a damning wager, these descendants become the answer to Persephone’s curse. Hades and Persephone’s quest to reclaim their love will pit god against god, in a tournament unmatched since time began. Victory lies in the union of warriors—exceptional females who control the elements and the males whose love will make them strong.

If they succeed, love will be theirs to claim.

But if they fail, their love will fall to ruin.

It is the eve of war, and the battle for the power of the Moon begins now.

Chapter 1

Amazon warrior summer camp

Year 578 of the reign of Queen Hippolyta III

Or the human year, 1689

“Found you.”

Kyme cursed as the kiss of cold steel caressed her throat and a deep chuckle of masculine triumph brushed her ear. Her hand shot for the blade under her pillow, only the male was too quick. He flipped her and bound her wrists before she could grasp the handle.

Damn.
No one caught her off-guard. No one. This male would pay.

“Easy there, female.” His voice was gentle despite the roughness of his actions. He picked her up, hauled her over his shoulder, and carried her out of the dark cave. Though she couldn’t glimpse his face, power emanated from his body. She swallowed her war cry and dug her nails into her palms to stop from fighting back.

More than a hundred years under the tutelage of her godmother had taught her to trust her instincts. Her best strategy was to wait. Any minute now, her sisters would sense the attack.
Let him think I’ll come easily. Foolish male.

As they breached the cave’s entrance, one of the young screamed. He wasn’t alone. Her sisters were in danger. Her previous strategy discarded, Kyme rasped a few words, a prayer to the goddess Artemis, and radiance emerged from her hands. The rope around her wrists disintegrated.

Sucking in a deep breath, she thrust the toe of her boot into his groin.

The male snarled, tossing her to the ground before she was able to connect with her other boot.

She rolled to a crouch. The sweet scent of dew filled her nostrils and her fingers dug into the still-damp earth. Blinking, she adjusted to the dawn’s light.

Doubled over and clutching himself, now the male was the one cursing. “Bloody hell,
Amazone
,” he spat out.

Unimaginative, yet effective.
She smirked. “Now you shall pay,” she hissed as she grasped for the bone handle of her ceremonial dagger tucked into her boot. Empty.
Bastard.
He’d disarmed her. She hadn’t even felt it. Kyme crawled backward until her foot made contact with a tree trunk. There was nowhere to run, but it didn’t matter. She was an Amazon. She never retreated from any fight.

Another scream shattered the air. She dared a glance in the direction of the cry. Three of the younger girls, not yet through their initiation, were bound. Two burly human males stuffed gags into their mouths. Her eyes narrowed and her temper flared. How dare they. Who were these men, to attack their protected meadow and wage war? And how? The sanctuary where the Amazons lived had never been invaded. Not in thousands of years, not since Herakles had killed their beloved Queen Hippolyta.

Somehow, these men had managed to slip past the centuries-old wards and the Amazons’ protector, the river Thermodon. They had struck at dawn. Clever invaders. Dawn was the perfect time to attack those who worshiped the Moon and the goddess Artemis. Last night Kyme had led some of the younger initiates on a hunt for a local pack of wolves. Those who had not yet fallen asleep were busy cleaning their kills and weapons. Kyme too was exhausted and had closed her eyes but for a minute before the male had attacked her.

The invader grunted and rose to face her. She fought down the jolt of terror he sent through her.
No, it can’t be.
Yet only one born of Ares or Artemis had permission to enter their meadow. Her heart sank into the depths of her stomach.

His resemblance to Ares confirmed the male standing before her was the god’s son. She and her fierce warrior sisters feared little, but the wrath of the war god Ares was at the top of that short list. This male was a half-breed, yet so long as the god’s blood coursed in his veins, she was powerless against him. She couldn’t kill him. Not here at least, not on sacred ground.

Lowering her lashes, she studied him. Like his divine father, this male’s bronzed skin and raven hair added to his fierce and volatile aura. Clad in only a pair of leather breeches, the male’s dark blue markings spanned most of his right arm and bare, upper right chest. Thick flames lapped up his throat, along his jaw, and circled his right eye. If his presence alone was not menacing enough, those inkings confirmed his feral nature.

Squinting, she discerned the small spears, vultures, and other symbols of Ares. But the lightning bolts? Those didn’t make sense. Her perusal drifted to his eyes. Gods, she had never witnessed anything like them. They glowed like the banked embers of a fire.

Despite this, he was beautiful. The meandering rivers of his veins roped his tall, well-defined body in a futile attempt to contain all of that heavily corded muscle. His jaw cut a strong, square line, emphasizing the pleasing hardness of his masculine features.
Enough. Focus. You care not about handsome sons of war gods, remember?
In exchange for her chastity, the goddess had granted Kyme a multitude of gifts, including her trick with her glowing hands and near-immortality.

As she observed his clothing and those of his men, Kyme’s pulse raced. The ring on his left hand marked him as a slaver. Not ordinary pyrates or privateers, these men specialized in the procurement of descendants and divine creatures, and then sold them to the highest bidder.

She frowned. No one captured Amazons. Ever. She surveyed the girls and focused on the youngest, Marpe.
Hold strong, youngling.

Indignation rose within Kyme. These virgins would be sold and bred, for their offspring would also fetch a high price. No.
She
would not surrender. After all, she had plenty of practice resisting males in her one hundred and forty-three years.

Nothing had prepared her for those eyes of charcoal. That haughty curved smile. Those broad shoulders which appeared as though they could carry the weight of the world, and often did.

“Come,” the slaver commanded, his arms folded across his expansive chest. She tensed as the deep timbre of his voice sent shivers cascading through her body.

Instead of passively submitting to her defeat, she forced her gaze upward and locked it defiantly onto his. Astonishment flickered across his features, widening his eyes, before he replaced his shock with a firmly clenched jaw.

He shot forward until he stood mere inches from her, his large body dwarfing hers. His hand whipped out and squeezed around her throat. “Why such impudence,
Amazone
? You know what I am. You cannot stop me. Do not fight your fate.”

Her anger was enflamed, not diluted by his words. His hand nearly cut off her air, but she managed to speak. She replied in the language he’d been using with her,
Olympian
, the
lingua franca
of the gods and their descendants. “Yes, a half-breed,” she spat. “I am an Amazon, I belong here. You shall never belong anywhere.”

“Hold your tongue or I’ll cut it out myself,” he growled, adding, “and show you how to respect those more powerful than you.” He drew her body against his, her back to his chest, his steel grasp emphasizing his words.

“How dare you touch me?” She hissed, but squirming against the heat of his large hands was a bad idea. She’d accomplished more than a century of chastity, of never having contact with a man. But actually being touched? By one who was as dangerously attractive as this slaver? Flares ignited her body, and she feared they sparked from lust rather than righteous ire. A slaver, truly? They were scum, worse than the lowly classes of Earth Borne humans. As his hot breath fell across the nape of her neck, she fortified herself, focusing on the vital negotiation she’d have to make.