Ravished by a Triton: London Mythos, #3

By Rebekah Lewis

Lady Nemea has a secret. Several, actually.

Nemea is a goddess on the run, now living in secret as the orphaned daughter of a nobleman. Developing the reputation of being a reclusive shrew, she's easily kept the majority of gentleman from vying for her hand. However, she might have met her match in a handsome merman who could expose the truth of her identity not to the mortals, but to her father, Zeus. The father who doesn't even know she exists…

Adrian, the Duke of Shellington, feels as empty as the title he uses to take part in the mortal world. After a botched attempt to find romance and happiness in London, he takes to the Scottish countryside to reflect on himself, but instead discovers a fellow immortal who has a temper as fiery as her hair. She claims to be a nymph, but Adrian sees right through that falsehood. Why is a goddess afraid to reveal her own birthright?

Was their meeting the work of the Fates, or will Adrian bring the wrath of all Olympus to Nemea's door?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rebekah Lewis
• Release date: Aug 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215778357

Rebekah Lewis

Rebekah Lewis has always been captivated by fictional worlds. An avid reader and lover of cinema, it was only a matter of time before she started writing her own stories and immersing herself in her imagination. Rebekah’s most popular series, The Cursed Satyroi, is paranormal romance based on Greek mythology. She also writes Fantasy and Time Travel. When satyrs, white rabbits, and stubborn heroes aren’t keeping her busy, she may be found putting her creativity to use as an award-winning cover artist. Rebekah holds a Bachelor of Arts in English Literature and lives in Savannah, GA with her cat, Bagheera.

Book preview

Chapter 1

South of Dunbar, Scotland

June 2, 1820

Sunshine warmed her skin as Nemea took in the salty, sea air. The North Sea hidden by the beautiful trees surrounding her cottage brought her peace and tranquility, especially at night and when the moon was full and bright. Living on her own had gotten easier over the years, and she had grown quite adept at taking care of herself. Cooking, cleaning, keeping to herself. Solitude provided safety, so the less people who knew of her, the better. Occasionally, she would ride into Dunbar for items she couldn’t grow, or even travel to Edinburgh if the mood struck to be among society for a change.

Nevertheless, Nemea tended to prefer the smaller towns, the countryside and coastline. Though it pained her to consider it, the time was closing in for her to move to a new location, possibly a new country. She sighed as she kneeled in her small garden and worked at gathering carrots for a pot of rabbit stew. Villagers had started to notice her visits, men seeking wives or bed-sport most notably. A woman appearing eight and twenty, regarded as a widow, seemed like easy pickings to men such as those.

She found them to be nuisances.

Her home in her little cottage near the sea had served her well. Perhaps she could see out one more year here, then move further down the coast. Perhaps she’d try Ireland next.

Movement in the corner of her eye stalled her hand and she glanced up. A tawny fawn with a speckled pelt stepped out of the trees. A grin tugged at her lips as she watched the precious animal graze. She’d have to make sure the fence around the garden stayed secure or its family would trample it to get to the vegetables. Rabbits caused her enough grief in that regard, but she could never begrudge them for doing what they must to survive. She knew all too well what that was like.

While she gathered everything she needed from the garden, she kept an eye on the little fawn. Where was its mother? She hadn’t caught sight of a doe yet. A pang of regret filled her as she realized a hunter had probably killed its mother, separating the little one from the other deer. Perhaps she could find another doe that would accept the fawn as one of its own.

Nemea couldn’t communicate with animals as some immortals could, but they tended to trust her. She took the basket inside, to the front table, and then closed the door behind her once more before she ventured in the direction of the fawn. The scared creature trembled as she approached, but didn’t run. Her scent seemed to calm it, and eventually it took cautious steps toward her.

There now. Don’t fret. She had moved from England to Scotland not too long prior and never changed her accent. She supposed she could have fit in better as a Scottish lass with the fiery red hair she had chosen when she’d gone into hiding. Altering her hair color from silvery blonde to red had been the easy part. Adapting to each new home over the centuries had been more difficult. She had made some acquaintances here or there, one of which had recently married and invited Nemea to a country party at her new husband’s estate, but she rarely went to such events. She hadn’t decided if she’d attend this one yet.

The fawn trotted around her, ears and tail twitching excitedly as she walked into the woods with it at her side. The sound of the waves crashing grew louder the closer they came to the cliffside. A doe sprinted out from the underbrush, and Nemea raised a hand to her racing heart. The fawn happily joined the doe and they sniffed at each other. A happy ending always brought her joy.

Instead of turning back toward the cottage to start supper, she continued toward the path that would take her through the trees to the beach below. Might as well take a walk along the water before heading back. Nothing could ruin her happy mood.

She took her slippers off when she reached the edge of the water, carrying them in one hand and holding up her skirts in the other. She didn’t worry too much about her dress getting wet, but the feel of the water lapping at her ankles brought sheer joy. Such a simple thing, peaceful. Nature and the elements soothed the soul.

Rocks jutted up ahead where the low tide made them visible. She decided she would walk as far as the rocks and return home. Yet, as she approached, splashing stopped her in her tracks. A large blue tail fin broke the surface and disappeared between the rocks.

Nemea stood very still, happiness fading to caution. What sort of creature was it? The water was far too shallow for a shark or anything like that.

I should go.

But what if an animal is trapped and cannot get back out of the shallows? Even as she thought it, she didn’t move. Every part of her screamed to turn around and retreat, yet she didn’t. A mistake, she quickly learned, as a man stepped out from behind the rocks and paused when he caught her staring at him. The water was thigh-deep, but that wasn’t the surprising part. His