The Satyr Prince









Desire can be addicting…

Shaken by the death of a close friend, Evander takes it upon himself to track down the rest of the Arcadians to face off against Dionysus and the Boeotians. It seems like a good plan—until the vampire who disrupted his life returns to tempt the beast only she seems to awaken within him. Vander hates her, blames her for the tragedy that befell The Aegean Inn months before, but he craves her in his bed. He can’t resist her bite…or her kiss.

Free after being imprisoned and double-crossed by Dionysus, Bremusa only wants to be left alone. Born an Amazon and made into a monster by Lamia, she is prepared to handle any threat. So why can’t she help herself when trouble finds her in the form of a sexy satyr prince she once tasted and didn’t have the time to savor? Just one night with him would alleviate her curiosity, but could never be enough to sate her hunger for him.

Elsewhere, enemies make strategic plays with apocalyptic intentions. Apollo has gone missing, Dionysus has used the syrinx, and Lamia won’t rest until she breaks Bremusa’s spirit—and her heart. Will Vander and Bremusa be able to stand their ground, or will their time together come to an abrupt halt? Not like anyone could survive the end of the world, or could they?

Caution: sexual scenes and violence may be more graphic or intense than the previous books.



“What do you want me to say?” Bremusa had wanted her freedom and bartered for it. What did he know about making deals with gods? Dionysus toyed with people, and it gave him great pleasure to do so. “I can’t undo it even if I wanted to.”

“Do you?” The prince caged her between the dresser and himself, and while she didn’t mind being in that position, every instinct in her fired on the urge to strike him until she wasn’t cornered. She held back, barely, clenching her fists at her sides, only to be rewarded when his warm breath fanned her cheek as he leaned in to whisper, “Do you really?”

Temporary dumbness nearly had her asking what he meant. Stalking and attacking Evander in his bed, leaving him helpless and her horny without release? Leaving Apollo to murder someone who had done nothing to deserve it? Making Evander too weak to fight for those he cared for? Did her freedom from Dionysus warrant the things she had no control of? She had no allegiance to Evander. All they had in common was mutual attraction and lust, and after they were finished here they would be finished with each other forever.

She stood up straighter despite the hard wood pressing into her back and a satyr slipping off the edge of control at her front. “I had no choice.”

“Enlighten me.” Still, no emotion colored his voice. “What did Dionysus do for you in exchange for incapacitating me? What did he take from you that you were so desperate to have back?”

My freedom. The thought made her heart constrict. He was far too perceptive. “Would you prefer if I said I did it for kicks?” Better to get him naked soon because her secrets were never being shared. They were hers alone.

Evander was silent for a long time. A sardonic grin tilted the corner of his lips, and he shed the dark gray jacket he wore, followed by the tie, and tossed them on the bedside table. When he unbuttoned the white dress shirt, her gaze narrowed in on his chiseled abs and her mouth watered. That body had caused such chaos in her mind since she saw him last. She couldn’t wait to rub herself all over it. The lycanthrope in her wanted her scent on him. Something that had never seemed important before. The notion tickled the back of her mind, something she’d heard about in stories of her father’s people, but she couldn’t quite bring it to the forefront of her mind. The promise of sex had her blind to any arbitrary thoughts she may have.

“Keep your secrets.” He unsnapped his belt and yanked it from the loops with a whoosh. It landed at her feet, but she barely spared it a glance. “I really don’t care. This is nothing more than a transaction. You want this from me, and I want you out of my life for good. Bonus for me, since I had to find a partner within the week anyway thanks to my issue.”

So…she was convenient, was she? Just a piece of ass used to keep that curse of his at bay. He’d pay for that remark, even if it was true.

“You will not drink from my vein,” he continued. “You will not have control over me or this situation in any way, or I end it then and there.” She’d like to see him try. “And when we are through, I will cut my wrist and you can drink from a cup, since it’s only fair I oblige your inner monster if you do mine.”

Bremusa opened her mouth, and he held up a hand in one quick motion to silence her. It worked, damn him. She didn’t know if she was offended or amused.

“Spare me your indignation.” He unbuttoned the top of his pants. “The terms weren’t to use me as your sex puppet or to toy with me at your leisure. Since you wanted satyr sex, that’s what you’ll get.” He scanned her from head to toe, his eyes dilating slightly. “If you can handle it.”

Had any other man said that shit to her, she’d have cut his throat and watched him bleed out. She wouldn’t even drink from that filth. Yet, the challenge in his eyes made her blood heat, made her want to prove him wrong. She’d handle him, all right.

Just how insatiable is a satyr anyway?

When she didn’t reply, his voice softened. “You’ll take what I give you, and so help me, vampire, I will ensure that you are so well-ridden when you leave this room that you can never lie with another man and enjoy it without longing for the very thing you will never have again.” His gaze dropped to the ground, and he turned away. “I can’t even look at you without seeing his death.”

She swallowed. As he lifted his head, his expression revealed vulnerability. He wanted her and hated her, and if she were a decent person, she’d walk away and let him grieve in peace. Bremusa was a monster though, and after thousands of years of imprisonment, she wanted this one day of selfishness.

© 2017 Rebekah Lewis.