Pride Before A Fall (Book 21 in the Godhunter Series) Read online

  I stepped out into the rectangular space with a smile. It had a bay window, curving out of the front of the room, that overlooked my territory. Set within the curves of the window was a padded seat, bordered by blush-pink silk curtains and adorned with pillows. Beneath the window seat, there were nooks with baskets in them, a few already full of toys for the little girl who wouldn't be able to play with them for awhile yet.

  Directly across from the bay window was yet another window, but this was just a flat, glass panel. It provided me with a view of my bedroom. Beneath this window was a crib which was a miniature version of my bed below. It had columns at each corner, but instead of nymphs standing atop them, there were lions, standing up on their back legs to hold lengths of pink silk in their forepaws. The silk draped down from a little, gold crown which hung above the center of the white, gated crib. Tiny pillows sat around the edges of the mattress, and one stuffed animal sat in the middle of it all; a lioness, of course.

  There was a changing table, with all the necessities set beneath it, off to the right of the crib. Then, beside that, there was a little playing nook which was surrounded in bookshelves. To the left of the crib, there was a wardrobe, and tiny outfits were already hanging inside on little satin hangers. Its drawers were full of blankets, booties, and other baby items beginning with B. Finally, set to the right of the bay window seat, there was a rocking horse, except it wasn't a horse. A golden dragon stood on a curved, wooden base; head lifted proudly despite the reins that draped from its mouth. It had a saddle and stirrups, just like a regular rocking horse, and a soft expression on its face. It was a gift from Arach.

  I took it all in with deep satisfaction. I had designed this room and created several items in it with my transmutation territory magic. The power I had over my territory was a sort of symbiotic thing. I kept the land alive, and it bent to my will. I could turn a stone into a sofa if I wanted to. But that wasn't what made me feel so satisfied. It was the fact that I had created this for my daughter; something I hadn't been able to do for my sons. I had some say in the dragon princes's nursery, but I hadn't created it. I didn't even design it. This, however, was mine. Here was the nesting that my men had talked about, but they'd actually helped me with it too. So, I suppose we had all nested.

  I sat in the window seat and stared out across the golden, grassy fields, beyond the shimmering mirror of our lake with a Viking dragonboat floating upon it, to the verdant mountains that ringed my territory. Within the mountains directly across from Pride Palace, there was a log cabin, more of a mansion really, that I had built for Trevor. It was an imitation of a Froekn vacation home that he loved. It was where we went when we wanted some alone time or a new place to have a cook-out. To the left of the mountain where Trevor's cabin was, there was a waterfall where Kirill and I liked to go. Behind the glistening curtain of water, there was a cave, and we'd outfitted it in some basic creature comforts. Hell, sometimes we just remained in our creature forms and took our comfort in other ways.

  I smiled softly.

  “Now there's a look,” Trevor said.

  I glanced up and found him lounging in the doorway to my left.

  “Hey,” I whispered.

  “The Lion Queen surveying her domain,” Trevor noted. “You look blissful.”

  “How could I not be? I have more than I could have ever hoped for.”

  “True,” he agreed, “but I may be able to offer you just one more thing.”

  “What's that?” I asked.

  “Lunch.” He smirked. “Care to join your husbands for a meal?”

  “Ah, and now my life is complete,” I declared dramatically as I took his hand.

  Chapter Four

  We were right in the middle of lunch, sitting at our kitchenette table in our main suite when Lugh walked in. I swear that boy had food-timing nearly as perfect as Roarke.

  “Lugh?” I put my sandwich down and stood. “What are you doing here? Is everything okay in Faerie?”

  “Everything there is fine.” Lugh waved me back down and came over to take a seat at the table. “Sorry to barge in on you like this, though you invited me.”

  “I sent you here?” I asked.

  The “I” I was referring to, was the me that was currently in Faerie. Due to my father's Ring of Remembrance, I could travel through time. If I went back (or forward) to a time I hadn't previously experienced, I could live through it normally. If I used the ring as it was intended, however, and traveled to a time that I'd already lived through (in a realm I'd already lived it in), then I would only be able to relive the events that had already occurred. But the way I used the ring was a sort of magical loophole. I went into times I'd already lived, but in a realm I hadn't lived them in. This allowed me to interact freely, and in some cases, even change the outcomes of events. I know, it's a bit mind boggling, and frankly, I hated even thinking about it. But it resulted in moments like this one; where the me that was somewhere else sends someone or something to the current me. Though I'm not even sure who the current me is. Oh crap, now my mind is spinning again. But the really crazy question was if the other “me's” mind was simultaneously spinning too. Nah.

  “Yep.” Lugh eyed my sandwich. “You gonna finish that?”

  “Did you seriously walk into my house unannounced and then try to take my wife's lunch away from her?” Trevor asked in a deadly tone.

  “Uh.” Lugh's expression went panicked.

  “I'm just messing with you.” Trevor laughed and smacked Lugh's shoulder. “You want a sandwich? I'll make you a sandwich.”

  “Oh.” Lugh looked relieved. “Sure. Thanks, wolf-man.”

  “No problem, Spirit Prince.” Trevor stood to get the High Prince of Faerie some food.

  Oh, did I fail to mention that Lugh was the High King's long lost son? Lugh's parents were High King Cian of Faerie and the Fomorian goddess, Ethniu. Through a series of deceptions and plain bad luck, Lugh wound up being raised by foster parents instead of either of his living birth parents. But now, he knew the truth, and his father finally knew of his existence. Lugh had been welcomed into the High Court of Faerie as the heir apparent. So, the question was; what was the High Prince of Faerie doing in my kitchenette waiting for the Wolf Prince to make him a sandwich?

  “And why did I send you here?” I asked Lugh.

  “I need your help.” Lugh leaned across the table toward me. “Or rather, my mother's people do, and you couldn't agree to it in Faerie.”

  “Is it just me, or is he making very little sense?” Kirill asked casually.

  “Not just you,” Trevor said as he slapped some turkey on a slice of bread. “It's all Greek to me. Where's Pan when you need him?”

  “Does anyone ever need Pan?” I smirked.

  “Pan is needed like bad case of Herpes,” Kirill joked.

  “Good one!” Trevor reached over and fist-bumped Kirill.

  “They're like a couple of frat boys.” I sighed and shook my head.

  “Vervain, the Fomorians are having some trouble, and my father doesn't want me involved,” Lugh started to speak a little more clearly.

  “Uh-huh.” I cocked my head, considered him, and took a bite of my sandwich. “Lugh, my daughter comes home in two days. Please tell me that you're not trying to get me involved in a war right before that happens.”

  “Of course not,” he huffed.

  We all relaxed.

  “I want you to stop a war.”

  “Lugh,” I whined as Kirill growled, and Trevor slammed the top slice of bread down a little more firmly than was required for sandwich construction.

  “I can't be involved, V.” Lugh's hands were clenching and opening on the table before him. “This concerns my mother, a woman I've only just met, and I can't help her. I'm ...” He laid his face into his hands and wept.

  “Oh shit,” Trevor froze with his hand squishing Lugh's sandwich into a pancake.

  “Trevor, make Lugh another damn sandwich.” I sighed as I stood. “Lugh.” I crouched b
y his chair and slid an arm around his shoulders. “Lugh, it's going to be okay. Tell us what's going on. How can I help you?”

  Lugh angled himself into my arms and hugged me. I held him while he cried a little longer, then he sniffed, backed out of my embrace, and swiped at his face angrily.

  “I'm sorry,” he said shakily. “I swear, I'm not a crier. I'm just so damn frustrated.”

  “I get it.” I went back to my seat as Trevor put a new sandwich down in front of Lugh. “Believe me; I understand how anxiety and frustration can turn you into one. Trevor, can you grab Lugh a beer?”

  “Yeah, sure.” Trevor looked relieved to be given a task. Most alpha males were lost when a guy cried. Especially a big, tough guy like Lugh.

  “Vhat has happened?” Kirill asked gently as he laid a hand on Lugh's shoulder.

  Okay, so “most alpha males” did not include Kirill. Kirill was in a league all of his own. I think it came from being abused for so long. Kirill is an alpha, no doubt about it, but he'd been forced to be a submissive for a very long time. He was only now coming into his more dominating nature. But all that time on the bottom had taught him humility, empathy, and kindness. Not that alpha men couldn't have all of those qualities. It just tended to be harder for them to express them, especially with mere acquaintances. Not for Kirill.

  “My mother came to see me.” Lugh took a deep breath, then a long swig of the beer Trevor placed before him. “She's wonderful, but then, I suppose you all know that already. She said that she met you, Vervain. That you were the one to get her passage into Faerie.”

  “I mirrored your father.” I shrugged. “No biggie.”

  “It is big, V.” Lugh placed his hand over mine. “Thank you.”

  “Anytime.” I smiled softly. “Now, what did your mother say that has you so upset?”

  “It's the Tuatha dé Danann,” Lugh spat out the name as if it tasted foul, his hands clenching into fists again as his golden eyes darkened to a tarnished brown. His wide shoulders hunched inward.

  So, that whole Lugh being raised by foster parents? Yeah, those foster parents were Manannan MacLir and his wife, Fand. Fand is a water fey who was once in love with High King Cian. Fand also knew Ethniu, Lugh's mother. When Ethniu started having an affair with Cian, Fand was not only jealous; she was flat-out pissed off that a faerie king would choose a goddess over another faerie.

  So, when Ethniu got pregnant, and things between the Fomorians (Ethniu's branch of the Celtic Pantheon) and the Tuatha dé Danann (Manannan's branch) got strained, Fand manipulated events so that she wound up with Cian's son. Fand told Ethniu that she would take the child to Faerie to be with his father. The Fey had withdrawn from the Human Realm by then and were talking about closing their borders for good. Ethniu knew how important children were to the Fey, especially to royalty, and she wanted her son to be safe and to have the best life possible. So, she gave Lugh into Fand's keeping, never knowing of Fand's rivalry or her vicious jealousy.

  Fand never told Cian he had a son. Instead, she told the Tuatha dé Danann that Cian could not acknowledge Lugh since he was only half-fey. Fand said that a child must be fully fey to sit on a faerie throne. This was both true and false. Yes, you must be fully fey to rule a faerie kingdom, but here's where things get interesting. Faerie essence (like a soul but different) can only mix with human souls. This is the combination that creates witches. The same goes for god souls, except the children born of such unions are demi-gods. When you try to mate a god with a faerie, however, their soul/essence won't combine. It's like oil and water. You get one being who has two souls: a god soul and a faerie essence. So, long story short (not really, sorry about that); Lugh is both fully fey and fully god. Therefore, he can rule. A fact which Fand failed to mention.

  The Tuatha dé Danann, believing that they were doing right by Cian (whom they considered to be a friend), helped Fand hide Lugh's existence from the High King. Fand married Manannan, and they raised Lugh as their adopted son. Lugh was told that his father had been a human king who had died long ago. The only truth he'd been told was that his mother was a Fomorian goddess. But he'd also been told that she had abandoned him, and Lugh had helped to trap her beneath the sea with the rest of the Fomorians, when the Tuatha dé Danann won the war against their fellow Celtic gods. Oh, but they gave Lugh, Cian's name as a surname, in the tradition of the Celts. Lugh MacCein. Yes, I know that it's spelled differently, it's their version of “Cian,” trust me, it's the same.

  Phew. I know that's a lot to process. It was a lot for Lugh to process, as well. He would never have had to process anything, though, if it wasn't for me. So, I not only counted him as a friend, but I also felt a little responsible for his current situation.

  The instant I had spotted Lugh in the halls of Tara, I knew whose son he was. Lugh is the spitting image of his father, nearly identical except for his thicker build. I kind of spilled the beans without meaning to and things snowballed from there. That had been at a particularly unstable time for the Tuatha dé Danann. The Fomorians had just been released from their undersea prison by Bres and were rallying to fight the Tuatha dé Danann and take their territory in the God Realm. Lugh, angered by the deceptions surrounding his life, left the Tuatha dé Danann to deal with the Fomorians on their own. Instead of fighting, Lugh went to Faerie and met his father. I fully supported his decision; Lugh technically isn't Tuatha dé Danann, and yet they'd been making him fight the Fomorians–his own people–since he was old enough to hold a sword.

  The Tuatha dé Danann had lost this latest war with the Fomorians and had gone into hiding. No one knew where they were. In fact, my father-in-law, Fenrir, was currently looking for them quite diligently. Mainly because he wanted to kill Morrigan, a Tuatha dé Danann goddess. She's done some bad stuff to my loved ones and me, and frankly, I was looking forward to getting a few kicks in myself. Anyway, no one's been able to find the Tuatha dé Danann goddess.

  Until now, evidently.

  “What about the Tuatha dé Danann?” I asked Lugh.

  Trevor and Kirill leaned forward. Kirill, especially, had a bone to pick with Morrigan. She had nearly killed him–mere hours after I had conceived his child. Fatherhood has been a dream of Kirill's, one he'd thought would never come true, and it was Lesya who helped me to bring his soul back from death. That's how important Kirill's daughter is to him, and Morrigan tried to kill him before he even had a chance to hold Lesya.

  Trevor was a step beneath Kirill on the revenge totem pole; some of his family–including his younger brother, Ty–had been abducted and assaulted by Morrigan. And, of course, Trevor was upset about Kirill nearly dying too. For a wolf and a lion, Trevor and Kirill were surprisingly close.

  I was upset with Morrigan for all of the above. You don't fuck with my family and get a free pass; I don't care how amazing your powers of premonition are. It was just a matter of time before we caught Morrigan, and I knew all about time.

  “They've been attacking Tara,” Lugh said. “Gorilla tactics. They sneak up, wreck havoc, then flee.”

  “The weasels,” Trevor growled.

  “Isn't Tara warded?” I asked.

  “You cannot keep a god out of their own territory,” Lugh explained. “Tara is part of a shared piece of the God Realm, instead of a privately owned one, such as yours. It was formed and is empowered by, all of the Celtic gods. The Fomorians can take control of it, but they can never fully possess the island, no matter how strong the wards are that they put up. The magic recognizes its own. To stop the Tuatha from entering, they'd have to kill every last Tuatha dé Danann.”

  “Well, they've got a head start on that,” Trevor muttered.

  “Without Dagda and Nuada, the Tuatha dé Danann are probably floundering,” I agreed. “Lugh, do you have any idea who's leading them?”

  “Manannan, I'd wager.” Lugh grimaced. “This is just his style, that slippery sea god. Dagda has children, but some of them haven't been around for years, and the others aren't interested in ruling. I
can't see either of the two remaining Brigits leading the Tuatha dé Danann.”

  “Right, I forgot that Brighid was Dagda's daughter.” I rolled my eyes. “How many triple goddesses do you guys have?”

  “Too many,” Lugh huffed. “And then there are the triple gods.”

  “Okay, so the Tuatha dé Danann are attacking the Fomorians,” I said gently. “I know this sounds harsh, but the Fomorians did take Tara from them. It seems perfectly natural for the Tuatha dé Danann to want to win the island back.”

  “Except now, I'm a Fomorian,” Lugh growled, “and the Tuatha dé Danann are threatening my mother. I've spent far too many years fighting on the wrong side of this war, and now that I can make an informed decision, my hands are tied.”

  “What do you want Vervain to do, Lugh?” Trevor narrowed his eyes on the High Prince.

  “I want you to negotiate in my stead.” Lugh held his hands up. “Nothing dangerous. I just want you to talk to the Tuatha dé Danann for me. Tell them that, for now, I'm staying out of this, but if they continue to threaten my mother, I will bring the other side of my family into the matter. Maybe when they're faced with these facts, they'll be open to forging a truce.”

  “Wait.” I frowned. “Are you saying that Cian won't let you get involved, but if things get worse, he'll not only let you fight, he'll bring the Fey into the war?”

  “Yes,” Lugh confirmed. “Dad said to let it play out, but if Ethniu looked to be in serious danger, he'd step in. She is my mother, after all, he cannot abandon her. This is the reason you finally agreed to send me here... to yourself.” Lugh shook his head like it was making him a little crazy.

  “Oh, phooka poop,” I huffed.

  “Vhy do zese messes always land on our doorstep?” Kirill asked me and then sighed.

  “At least I don't have to fight this time,” I said brightly.

  “Yet.” Kirill grimaced at Trevor.

  “If this does lead to war,” Trevor snarled at Lugh, “you will not involve my wife in it. I want your word as High Prince. Neither the Fire Kingdom nor its queen will be commanded to join the ranks of your faerie army if the High King marches on Tara.”