The fourth and final book in the bestselling Blood of a Fae series…
“I see forever with you by my side. Because long after these scars have faded away to nothing, I'll still be standing beside you. You and I? We're eternal.”
Beware the dread curse of Three…
In the aftermath of the war between Pendrath and its neighbors, peace has finally come to Camelot. But for Morgan Le Fay and her friends, the calm is short-lived. A storm grows on the horizon. As a terrible evil that has been waiting hundreds of years begins to sweep through the land, Morgan and Draven must race to the aid of their allies, leaving their youngest and most vulnerable new family member in the care of trusted friends.
The sword, the spear, the grail’s mystery…
As the tide of war takes them across kingdoms and into greater peril, Morgan and Draven embark on a quest to destroy the three objects of untold power–the grail, the sword, and the spear. Together, the pair will find answers to questions lost in the mists of time. Answers to questions so terrible, they never even thought to ask.
Blood calls to blood, the dark shall rise,
Forged by the gods under sacred skies.
For the love between these bonded mates is not just an everlasting one forged in blood.
You might even call it divine.
Briar Boleyn's Knight of The Goddess is the fourth and final installment in the author's Blood of a Fae series. Key Characters: Morgan le Fay, Kairos Draven Venater, Medra, daughter of Morgan's fallen sister Orcades and former King Arthur, Guinevere (New High Priestess), Lancelot, and Gorlois le Fay, Morgan's father. In the wake of the war that once ravaged Pendrath and its neighboring realms, a fragile peace settles over Camelot.
Yet, tranquility proves fleeting for Morgan Le Fay and her companions as a sinister force, dormant for centuries, stirs anew, threatening to engulf the land in darkness. Draven is also fighting his own demons, not knowing if his sister Rychel is alive or not. As the tempest gathers strength, Morgan and Draven must hasten to aid their allies, entrusting their youngest and most vulnerable family member to the care of steadfast friends.
A family member who could be the prophesied destroyer of a powerful God. A family member who will grow so quickly, that it will take the deaths of some major players to make her understand that she was actually loved, and not abandoned to fight a powerful God. Amidst the chaos, the ancient artifacts of power-the grail, the sword, and the spear-loom ominously, their mysteries shrouded in legend.
To stem the tide of war and confront the encroaching peril, Morgan, Draven, Hawl, Lancelot, & Guinevere embark on a perilous quest to vanquish these relics of untold potency. Along the way, they unearth long-buried truths, delving into the depths of history to confront horrors they never dared imagine! Morgan will also encounter brothers and sisters who she either never met before, or her mother wiped all memories of the family that she was taken from before she could be used in her father's ultimate plans to conquer the world.
*Thoughts* So, this is a pretty entertaining story and a good way to wrap up the series. I do, however, still have questions as to how Medra was able to grow so quickly from a baby who was left behind by Morgan and Draven who fell in love with her, but to end up as a young teenaged girl with remarkable powers to challenge a God. Was it because of who her mother was, and possibly the same reason why Gorlois wanted Morgan so badly? There are quite a few characters who make the ultimate sacrifice in this story. In that way, it makes the story a bit more realistic than to have everyone survive against tremendous challenges.
LONG QUOTE 1
A volley of missiles flew through the air.
I could hear Draven shouting to fly low and turn.
I could sense Nightclaw was already doing so, moving Draven out of harm's way.
But Sunstrike and I were in tune in a different way. The younger battlecat was swift,
light, yes, but also inexperienced. She had carried me stoically and willingly this far, but
now I sensed her weariness.
As I fed her my thoughts, a hand to her fur, I felt her struggle to respond with the speed
Nightclaw might have.
She turned, ever so slowly as it seemed to me. And then she began to climb, flying higher
rather than lower, heading for the clouds. I sensed her newfound fear as the arrows
began to hiss around us.
But there was nothing for it. I hunched on the great cat's back, my head against her coat,
urging her on and praying Draven would cover our retreat.
Quick-witted as always, he had already done so. When I looked back over my shoulder, I
saw him sculpting a path of safety for us, shadows cloaking our withdrawal as he and
Nightclaw sped towards the projectiles and ensnared them, shadows coiling around
arrows and missiles, hurling them back down towards the earth.
A few moments later, Nightclaw soared beside us.
We flew above the clouds, letting Sunstrike get her composure back. I could feel the
young battlecat's heart racing and struggled to remind myself she had never been in this
sort of fray before.
I shouted the thought to Draven over the whistling wind. “She’s never done this before.
She’s frightened.”
He urged Nightclaw closer until we were flying neck in neck. “I know. We should send
her back. Join me on Nightclaw.”
It was not a terrible idea.
And yet as Sunstrike heard his words, I sensed her immediate reaction. Her utter refusal
to return without her mate, to leave us behind.
“Not my first battle,” I felt her say, in emotions if not in words. “Not my first. Back on
the beach. I helped.”
“She did,” Draven said begrudgingly as he understood her message. “But this…” He
shook his head. “This is very different.”
I looked at Nightclaw, but the cat’s eyes were focused ahead of him. I got the impression
he would not tell his mate what to do, but would leave it to her.
“She wants to help,” I said carefully. “She’s fast. I can guide her. We’ll just be more
careful.”
“They’ll be watching for us now,” Draven said grimly. “That large one down below, the
general…”
“That large what?” I prompted. “What the fuck are these things, Draven? Men? Fae?”
Draven shook his head. “Fae, I’d assume. Well-trained, impassive. Very well-controlled.”
I snorted. “Impassive? Is that what you’d call it? They’re brutal. Nothing like any human
soldiers I’ve seen.”
Draven gave me a searching look. “Think of who they work for.”
We had never spoken of it outright. But I knew we’d shared the same idea for a long
time.
“Right,” I said darkly.
“It’s probably easy to be impassive when something worse awaits them back home if
they fail,” he pointed out.
“Why send out those raiding parties if this was what my father had all along?” I
demanded. “What was the point?”
“To rattle us, to frighten us,” Draven answered. “To test Tintagel’s strength. To see
where he should first attack. Tintagel is the closest kingdom after all.”
And Pendrath was next closest. Followed by Lyonesse.
And then what? Cerunnos? Until all of Eskira was under Valtain control?
“Total dominion,” I said miserably. My father must have had this attack already planned
out, if not under way, by the time he found me in the dream.
“If I had to guess,” Draven said calmly. “I’d say this battle has been a long, long time
coming.” He looked over at me. “What’s the plan?”
“Get down there and fuck shit up?” I suggested.
My father may have been a military mastermind. I had my own style. Blunt and to the
point.
He grinned. “How elegantly put.”
I shrugged. “I’ll use fire. You use… whatever the hell we’re calling what you can do. And
we’ll see if we can help out King Mark.”
“Shadow wielding. It’s rare but not unheard of.” He sighed. “Fine. But Nightclaw and I
will stay close and shield you. If things get too hot, you and Sunstrike head back up into
the clouds.”
I touched Sunstrike, making sure she understood. She was eager and excited to go back
down. But she was a little afraid, too. I knew she’d be more careful.
“We’re ready. Let’s go.”
We flew to war.
The blood-soaked earth stretched out below us like a canvas.
Sunstrike flew swiftly. She was young and nimble, if lacking experience.
Small flames danced in my hands, ready to unleash on the forces below us.
Beside us soared Nightclaw. If Hawl was right, the older exmoor could have been the
veteran of countless battles. He moved with a sure and primal grace.
Astride him sat my mate, commanding shadows as easily as one might wield a blade.
Below us, the dark fae foot soldiers now found themselves confronting forces beyond
their darkest imagining.
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