Sun Broken (The Wild Hunt #11) - Yasmine Galenorn Page 0,3

the gods worked together to find a way to drive him back into stasis. So far, they didn’t have a clue on how to do that.

“Come, let’s get home before sunrise,” Herne said, stepping back from me. I shielded my eyes as he transformed into his stag self. The light was so bright that it almost blinded me. As he knelt for me again to straddle his back, I couldn’t help but wonder how many nights we would have left to run free in the woods and make love under the stars. How long before Typhon stretched out his wings to cover the light? And how much longer before our days—and our nights—were spent chasing down the dead?

But at least, Herne would be at my side, and for that, I was ever grateful.

My name is Ember Kearney, and I’m a tralaeth. That’s an ugly word that I’ve reclaimed. I’m half–Dark Fae and half–Light Fae, and according to the Fae Courts, never the twain should meet. But they did, in the forms of my father, who was Dark Fae, and my mother, who belonged to the Light Court. When I was fifteen, they were murdered for daring to love across borders, and as the product of their love, I was considered untouchable in the Fae Courts, a half-breed who shouldn’t exist. As far as I was concerned, they could all go fuck themselves. My parents’ families had been in on the double murder, and I had no use for any of them save for one uncle whom I had only recently met.

Until a year ago, I had set myself up as a freelance investigator/bounty hunter, but then life had intervened. In the space of twenty-four hours both I and my best friend, Angel, had gone from struggling to make our way in the world to being employed by Herne, who ran the Wild Hunt Agency. My official job was to help keep peace between the Fae Courts—or, at least, helping to contain the collateral damage, which seemed terribly ironic given my heritage.

But that job had expanded, and now in addition to keeping the ever-warring factions from offing innocent people with their petty sparring, we had branched out to facing the coming darkness. And somehow, within a very short time, Herne and I had been drawn together, and I was learning what it meant to be the consort of a god.

And to complicate matters, I was pledged to his mother Morgana, a goddess of the Fae and of the sea. And my father had been pledged to Herne’s father—Cernunnos. In the past year, I had seen things I never dreamed existed, and I had passed through the Cruharach—a ritual all members of Fae undergo as a rite of passage when they come of age.

A lot had changed in a single year, but even with the coming shadow, I wouldn’t alter anything that had happened. For the first time in my life I belonged to something bigger than myself. I had my own home, I had friends who formed an extended family, and I had found love. And all the darkness in the world couldn’t overshadow all of that.

I yawned and dragged myself under the shower. I didn’t like pulling all-nighters, but we had no other choice than to check out reports when they came in. It was seven a.m. and we needed to dress and head into work. After soaping all the grime off, I blasted myself with cold water and almost shrieked, but it shocked my system enough to drive the brain-fog away.

After toweling off and blow-drying my hair, which had grown noticeably longer over the past year, I dressed in a spare outfit I had left at Herne’s—a blue corset over black jeans. I fastened a silver belt around my waist and zipped up my stiletto ankle boots. I didn’t anticipate needing to go gallivanting around the forest today, and if the need did arise, I kept a spare pair of boots at work, one more suitable for tromping in the woods.

“Triple-shot mocha?” Herne asked as I entered the kitchen. While I showered and dressed, he had grilled ham and cheese sandwiches and was now pulling shots of espresso.

“Quint shot, please. I need more caffeine than that to make it through the day. All-nighters aren’t that easy, even for the Fae. We don’t all have the constitution of a god.” I stuck out my tongue at him.

He playfully returned the gesture. “Fine. Five shots. Seriously, though, if you need a

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