Peyton's Ride (Riding With The Hunt, #1) by Jennifer Van Gunten

feel like you’re trying to say goodbye to me?”
    “I don’t want to. Not at all.” The hope she was really his, planted and grown in the words etched in Daegus’s skin continued to flicker inside him. “But I might not get a choice.”
    “What he means is that the Hunt survives because the bloodlines and clans are preserved. If your clan is that of—”
    “Bullshit.” Her gaze never left his as she addressed Manannan and pride surged in his veins. “Insular, closed societies die out. It’s why the legends of changelings and kidnapped humans arose. You stole humans or took them in to introduce new blood. You try and dictate to me who I’ll marry, and I’ll run. I’m not going anywhere unless it’s with Ian.”
    A dark, melodious laugh ripe with the possibility for mayhem and uncontrolled merriment rang out. Daegus. The magic within him responded, stretched out and overflowed his aura with sensual purpose.
    Peyton writhed her hips against his and threw her head back. She moistened her full lips and released a throaty sigh.
    “Oh, I’d say she’s a member of the Hunt already. Manannan’s rituals be damned,” Irial chuckled.
    Ian glared at his brother and snarled, a desperate, primal need to protect his territory driving him. The zipper on his pants cut into his engorged dick, and he shifted his legs to relieve the ache without success.
    Her attention fixated on Daegus and the horn. She padded forward, her entire being aglow with inner power. Manannan folded his arms, and a muscle ticked in his jaw. The Lord of the Wild Hunt didn’t like being circumvented. Despite his disgruntled state, there was nothing Manannan could do to stop the proceedings. He led the Hunt, but not it’s magic. The magic had a will and life of its own.
    It appeared the magic had taken note of Peyton and recognized her as something it wanted. Or someone who had been left behind.
    He puzzled over who her father might be for a moment. A fertility deity perhaps, given her gorgeous, generous curves.
    She reached Daegus and accepted the horn with both hands. “I’ve felt out of place my whole life. Like a stranger looking through windows.”
    Daegus smiled down at her, blue and purple will ‘o the wisps blinking like tiny stars around him. “Drink, and be welcome. Drink, and join the ranks of the Wild Hunt. Drink, and you will never lack for loving family again. Drink, Peyton Reynolds, and find your mate.”
    At the final pronouncement, a feeling like the world held its breath descended. She pivoted and met his eyes as though seeking reassurance. The bashful, almost shy woman who’d waited for him to finish the check on her motorcycle returned.
    She lifted the horn to her lips, the liquid inside trembled and sloshed. “If I do this, I ride with the Fae.”
    “Aye.”
    Each man in the room held their breath. She lifted the cup, her eyes on him, and sipped carefully twice. Then she tipped the horn up and gulped the drink. Blazing light seared from her body until it hurt to look at her. She lowered the horn, a dazed and wondrous expression on her face. Each man in the room straightened their posture, and he fought to control his magic.
    He wanted to kill them all, throw her over his shoulder, and fuck her until he couldn’t see. Until she screamed his name and begged him to stop. And then begged him for more.
    Manannan spread his arms wide. “Peyton Reynolds, welcome to the Wild Hunt.”
    His friends crowded around her in a tight circle, and he couldn’t control the rut any more. The magic smashed through his shields and shredded them to slivers. He shifted to his phooka form, and reared on powerful hind legs, pawing the air.
    The idiots near her, near his woman, scattered, laughing. She leveled a stern look in his direction and shook her head. His hooves gouged the floor, and he whinnied.
    “Ian...”
    He closed the distance between them, nuzzled her belly, and dropped to his front knees.
    “Ride a phooka? That’s dangerous