Sun Broken (The Wild Hunt #11) - Yasmine Galenorn Page 0,1
Given the current state of affairs, we had decided to check it out for ourselves. There was too much at stake to just hope for the best or rely on rumor.
The elemental paused, then I felt a quiver of fear coming from it.
I have seen nothing unusual, but something is approaching. There are those who have rested in the arms of the forest for many years, deep in their death sleep, who are now slumbering uneasily. Their bodies are long gone but their spirits are approaching a wakeful state. What lures them out of their long sleep, I do not know.
And with that, the water spirit dove into the stream and flowed back into the current, and within seconds, it was gone.
“What did it say?” Herne asked from behind me.
I turned to face him. He was in his human shape now, rugged and gorgeous, with shoulder-length hair the color of wheat that was approaching his mid-back. I’d asked him to let it grow—I loved a man with long hair, and Herne wore it well. He had a five-o’clock shadow, the stubble making his jaw look even stronger, and his eyes were cornflower blue. He was wearing a pair of dark jeans and a leather jacket over a dark blue muscle shirt. His belt buckle—a silver stag—gleamed in the dim light from the sliver of moon overhead. I had given it to him on Valentine’s Day, and he wore it constantly now. He was wearing motorcycle boots, with chains and studs.
“According to the elemental, the spirits who have made their rest in the park are waking up. From what I gathered, given the images it showed me, these are mostly spirits of Native Americans who died on this land before any settlers came in, though there are also some of the settlers here, and a few people who’ve been murdered here. They’re all spirits who should have moved on, who should be long gone. As to what’s responsible for waking them up, I have no idea and neither did the water spirit.” I rubbed my chin, glancing around us.
The Seattle area had been inhabited for at least four thousand years, first by the earliest Coast Salish natives, and then, starting in the mid-1800s, by European settlers coming in. Plenty of people had lived and died in the area.
Herne regarded me gravely. “Typhon?”
I pressed my lips together, then let out a sigh. “Probably.”
“Reports are coming in from Mielikki’s Arrow, Odin’s Chase, and all the other agencies like ours. This is happening worldwide. Typhon may still be in the process of waking, but his reach is extending out to affect all areas of the world.” Herne sat down on a nearby boulder, frowning. “We knew this was coming.”
“I know.” I didn’t want to think about it, but we had to face the fact that we were running on borrowed time. It wouldn’t be long and the world would be a chaotic mess when the dead returned, in both spirit and physical form. And all we could do was wait, and take care of the collateral damage when it arose.
“Come here.” He held out his arms.
I sat on his knee, leaning against him as he wrapped his arms around me. He reached up to kiss my nose, the warmth of his breath stirring my blood. I moaned gently as his tongue slid between my lips, and he shifted, lifting me into his arms as he stood. He carried me over to a mossy bank beside the stream and lay me down, kneeling beside me.
“Jeans off,” he whispered.
I unbuckled my belt and unzipped, sliding my jeans down, along with my underwear. As I tugged them off over my boots, he whipped off his belt, then followed suit, his jeans down by his knees. He was facing me as I lay back on the grass, his eyes glowing in the darkness surrounding us. The fire rose inside me, and I pulled up my shirt and began to finger my nipples beneath the lace of my bra. Herne let out a wicked laugh and knelt between my thighs, his tongue searching for my center, bathing me lightly at first and then harder. I caught my breath and reached down to tangle my fingers in his hair.
He wrapped his hands around my hips, holding me firmly as the swirl of his tongue drove the fire higher. I moaned, wanting to feel him inside me, wanting him to drive the length of his shaft deep into my core.