One
I should have known tonight would go to hell.
The right thing to do would have been to turn down the party invitation. Stay home, as I had been doing for the past few months. But how could I have said no when the request came from my most affluent client, Linet, whose purchases kept my shoe shop, Crispin’s Cordwainer, afloat?
The smell of burning wood and barbecued meat floated on the breeze in the field behind Linet’s house. A crowd of at least fifty guests mingled and danced on the lawn. Farther in the distance stood Linet’s enormous three-story house with an eloquent curved stairway cascading downward from the rear of the home to the yard in which the party was being held. A manicured flower garden surrounded us, and beyond that lay the woodland. Torches dotted the property, bringing the place to life with light, while the band exploded with fast, toe-tapping tunes.
Linet was in her husband’s arms, their bodies pressed together, swaying like hypnotized snakes in front of the band, their hips moving from side to side. She wore the bluest ankle boots, laced with a silver ribbon running up the back of her heels. She’d bought them from me earlier this week. Even with her black witch’s dress and pointy hat, she looked magnificent. It was a costume party, so everything matched.
Voices and laughter from the crowd echoed through the night. People danced, caught up with friends, ate, and drank. The hum of the bands’ music permeated the air. This was merriment as it should be, and I pictured myself throwing such a party one day for me. I recognized Jai the baker, the local councilman—even the trade merchant who traveled to different lands and brought back all kinds of foods from other territories. But most of these people were in their forties or fifties. I had to be the youngest here, at half their age at least, but that didn’t bother me. I’d come here to mingle, but that meant not sitting around. So I got to my feet to go, ready to make friends.
It was my eighteenth birthday once midnight hit, and I was sick of sitting around on my own.
An enormous bonfire crackled at the rear of the yard, flames licking the starry sky like starved wolves. The trees surrounding us shone in their silver light. It was gorgeous tonight, but many in Darkwoods believed that during a Harvest night, the boundaries between our world and the afterlife were less secure, so spirts could come and go freely. Dad had once told me that fires were a means to ward off the evil spirits.
I scratched the fake elf ears I wore as part of my elf princess costume and shifted them so they didn’t fall off. Like everyone here, I wore a costume. Our disguises were meant to stop the dead coming into our world and identifying individuals they didn’t like during their own lifetimes. But we lived in Haven Realm. A world with seven territories, each inhabited by different races, including humans like me, animal shifters, mermaids, and even witches. So anything was possible, and magic was bountiful.
An array of foods and drinks covered the table, and I eyed the wine. And the delicious pumpkin pie. I walked over, patting down my short green dress that had bunched up my thighs, matched with a pair of open-toed sandals Dad had made for me, insisting they were practical. They were worn but comfortable and reminded me of him.
“Pretty elf! Will you dance with me?” a gruff male’s voice asked from somewhere behind me. I didn’t remember seeing anyone else in the same costume as me tonight so he had to be talking to me, right?
I turned toward a young man dressed in what I could only describe as an orc or troll. He tugged down on the bottom of his tanned leather vest over his flat stomach, and the sleeves of his camel-colored button-up shirt puffed like a pirate’s outfit. They matched his breeches and knee-length boots. Not sure what look he was going for, but with the troll-like mask covering his face and cropped dark hair, all I could focus on were the deepest cocoa eyes.
He breathed heavily as if he had run to the function. “I normally wouldn’t ask an elf to dance. We orcs have been enemies with the elves for centuries.” He grunted a laugh.
I raised an eyebrow because someone was playing the part of his costume, and I glanced around, noting everyone did the same, from the girl dressed as a butterfly fluttering her wings in front of two men dressed as wolves, to the ghost person zipping through the party as a real spirit might if they existed. So I’d play along with the game since I’d come here to have fun.
“Well then.” I lowered my voice, staring into eyes that seemed to smile behind the mask. “I shall have to make an exception this one time.”
He extended an arm to me, his palm facing upward, calloused and strong. Did he work at one of the nearby farms? Maybe I’d seen him at the local fair before.
I accepted his hand, and he lifted it to his mouth, pushing the mask up halfway off his face, revealing plump lips and stubble on a pointy chin. A long, healed scar ran across his jawline. He was an attractive man, not much older than me.
He kissed my knuckles, then replaced the mask back over his face.
“They call me ‘Luronk.’” He drew me into a walk toward the dance floor, holding my hand tightly in his.
“I’m Rain,” I added, unsure if he forgot to ask or maybe orcs didn’t request female names. “So why an orc?”
He didn’t respond until we reached the edge of the group of dancers and he drew me against him with such force, my hands snapped up against his chest. My breaths seesawed in my chest. Solid like iron, his arms wrapped tightly around my back.
“Why not?” he said, his chin raised. “Orcs are powerful and get what they want.”
In all honesty, his assertiveness wasn’t doing it for me. Strength could be shown without brute force.
“Rain!” Linet said, suddenly at my side, patting my shoulder. “Oh, girl, you’re finally up and dancing. So wonderful. And these shoes”—she glanced down to her blue boots and back at me—“make me feel like I’m floating on clouds. Your craftsmanship is magnificent, and you’ve really come into your own ever since you took over the store from your father.” Her husband swooped her into his arms, twirling her away as she giggled.
A familiar ache settled under my breastbone at the memory of Dad. Since he’d passed months ago, I’d taken over his shop because I couldn’t bear to walk away from what he’d worked so hard to build. But each time someone mentioned him, the loss gutted me. It hurt like hell, reminding me he wouldn’t be home waiting for me, that I had spent months not leaving the store because the tears wouldn’t stop. I swallowed my thickening throat, not wanting to face those emotions now. Not at a party or on my birthday.
Though with the way Linet had stared at me with amazement left me feeling like a sham.
I hadn’t made the glorious shoes she wore, or any of the ones her friends also pranced around in at her party. But I never had the heart to tell anyone it wasn’t me. I couldn’t because I needed the money, and the sting of guilt burrowed through my chest.
Soon after my father had passed, something strange had started happening in my store. A week after his burial, I’d found three pairs of perfect shoes sitting on the front windowsill of my store. Each was more magnificent than the next. Shinier. Had more straps. Higher heels. Tanned leather. One was made of suede and covered in silver buckles.
But the following week, three more had popped up on my window. That time, Linet had walked past my store and had insisted on buying them at once.
The following week, another three had appeared, and word had soon spread. Now every Monday, customers lined up outside my store, waiting to purchase my next three creations. The highest offer got a pair of shoes, so I couldn’t say no, especially since Dad and I had barely made enough money to put food on the table when he’d been alive.
Dad had once said he would always look out for me. So I believed these offerings were his way of somehow taking care of me from beyond death. I refused to ask anyone for advice, as people might find out I’d lied, that they’d bought enchanted shoes. Magic scared a lot of the locals. But magic they clearly were. The person who bought them were the first to try them on and the footwear always ha
d the shoe fit them perfectly, and I haven’t had one person return them after they’d put them on.
Ever since, I’d saved enough money to keep me going if sales ever slumped.
Now, I blinked the tears away and smiled at Luronk the orc, hoping he’d dance with me into the early hours of the morning so I could feel normal for a change.
A slower song played, and Luronk’s arms held my waist tightly, so I curled mine around his neck and let myself enjoy the night. What was the harm?
“Do you live in Rivertorn?” I asked. Our small town was barely a blip on the map of Darkwoods, but the location had a small community of different races and everyone lived in harmony.
“I’m from up in the mountains,” he explained, walking me backward and spinning me around in a strange dance move. “Between us,” he said, “I snuck out to attend this party. A friend from my hunting party invited me. But I’m not sure he’s coming now.”
“The event is meant to go till dawn. I might fall asleep by then.” I laughed, but he drew me closer, his breath fluttering against his face mask.
“Not if I have anything to do with it. We’ll dance non-stop.” His eyes crinkled in a deep smile, and I leaned into him in our slow side-to-side movement.
“Your shoes are remarkable,” a woman with dark hair silvering at temples said, staring down at her own boots. Studded with silver dots, I remembered how much I’d adored the pair when I’d first laid eyes on them. “I will be first in line next week outside your store, even if I have to sleep outside all night to beat Linet from getting first pick.” She laughed and swished away into the partying horde.
“Seems you have fans,” Luronk said. “I know the feeling. I do a lot of game hunting for my family, bring home food for everyone, as I have five sisters and two younger brothers. Plus, we live with my cousins, aunts and uncles, and their families.”
“Wow.” I couldn’t imagine what having so many relatives would feel like when I’d ever had only my father and had never known my mother. Luronk wouldn’t know what feeling alone felt like. He probably always had someone to rely on. Someone to talk to. I imagined it would be wonderful to have so many people to keep you company.
“They are sticking their nose in my business.” He droned on about each family member, their names, what they did, down to what they looked like. And even who fought with whom for strange reasons like borrowing someone’s clothes without asking. I would give anything to have such a family.
The rest of the night seemed to fly past and Luronk hadn’t been kidding when he’d said he’d dance with me without pause.
“Midnight is almost upon us,” a male’s voice called out from near the band. “So let’s jump into a fast song. Everyone, come on in.”
A cheer exploded around us as every single person pushed closer together, and we were pushed toward the edge of the dance crowd where the shadows seemed to leak in from the woodland.
Tingles swirled in my gut… Was that excitement at being part of the jovial group, or at being in a man’s arms instead of home alone?
A new song belted out from the band, loud and fast as promised, and I broke from Luronk’s strong hold, both of us dancing, hips shaking, arms swinging. I couldn’t stop smiling, as I didn’t remember the last time I’d felt so free.
“It’s my birthday when midnight hits,” I called out over the music for no reason other than I wanted to tell someone. Anyone who paid me attention, as desperate as that sounded.
“Is that so?” He lifted his mask off his face, setting it on top of his head by the elastic secured around his ears. Bushy thick brows crowned his eyes; his nose was small, as if unbalanced against his features, but he had a kindness in his irises.
“Happy birthday, Princess Elf.” He leaned in, his mouth parting.
But I pulled away from his kiss, stumbling away a few steps. He gave off a strange vibe and kissing him felt wrong. I wasn’t unseasoned when it came to guys, but we’d only just met and I didn’t want to kiss him in front of everyone. Before I knew it, the whole town would gossip on how fast I’d offered myself to someone I’d just met.
His eyes opened, and a flush crawled over his cheeks as if realizing that I’d backed away.
Except, strangely, Luronk’s brow pinched and his gaze quickly swept either side of him as if checking who had seen me pull away from him.
Awkwardness settled over me, and heat burned up my neck. “Just getting a quick drink. I’m parched. Be back in a moment. I’ll get you one too.” God, I was rambling and could I be any more obvious? I should have turned my head, so he kissed my cheek, but now he stared at me as if I’d embarrassed him in front of the entire world.
I spun on my heels and hurried toward the table, then poured myself a cup of berry juice and gulped it down in three mouthfuls.
“Was I mistaken to think we had something going on?” Luronk’s meaty hand slapped down on my shoulder with force, and I winced, then nudged him off before turning to face him. He towered over me, seemingly taller than before. But the kindness in his eyes had vanished, replaced by anger.
“We just met,” I blurted out as I poured myself another drink, my hands shaking, and I glanced past him to the dancers, who didn’t seem to bat an eye our way. I’d seen boys like Luronk before who didn’t take no for an answer and leading them on never worked out well.
“Look,” I began just as a sharp pain struck across my middle, and I huddled over, clasping an arm across my stomach. What was going on? When the sting came again, three times as deep, I stumbled, my knees buckling, and the drink in my hand slipped, red juice spilling across the front of my costume. Its coldness plastered across my skin, but I didn’t care as I cried with agony.
“What’s wrong with you?” Luronk barked, standing there without a slither of sympathy in his voice.
“I don’t know. This has nev—” I arched backward as if someone had shoved a branding iron into my spine. I cried out, but no one dancing seemed to notice, and Luronk just stood there, staring at me, his head tilted.
“Get up,” he said. “You’re embarrassing yourself.”
What was going on with me? Pain shot through me from my head to my toes, and I convulsed while Luronk grabbed one of my arms and drew me to my wobbly feet.
A surge of fire snapped across my flesh so fast, the world seemed to tilt beneath me. Luronk released his hold as if he’d touched a flame.
“Are you sick?” he asked.
“Help me.” I reached out a hand to him but lost my footing and stumbled into the table, everything rocking around me. The wine in the bowl splashed up and over the rim, red going everywhere, but the table didn’t tip over.
Something was wrong with me because every inch of me sizzled. The fake ears popped off me and fell to the ground.
Luronk gasped, his eyes widening as his mouth dropped open. “What the fuck’s wrong with your ears?”
My heart thundered in my chest as I reached out to touch them—they had somehow grown long and almost pointy, replicating the fake ones I’d worn. This can’t be real! I pulled at them, but they hurt.
“What’s happening to me?” I felt a discomfort in my chest, feeling as if I’d eaten too many slices of cake and now I buzzed with energy. Except this was a lot worse, and an urgency to run, to escape, to hide hit me.
When I met Luronk’s gaze, something behind them shifted as if he stared at prey. But his features also morphed. Nose widening, his nostrils flaring with each rushed breath. His brow expanded right before my eyes, lips stretching as sharpened teeth elongated. His shoulders expanded outward, as did most of his body, his shirt pulled so taut, the buttons popped, one striking me in the forehead. A deep guttural snarl reverberated from within his chest, and he toed off his boots to reveal enormous and disgusting hairy feet. His skin suddenly took on a pale-yellow tinge.
Fear jammed in my throat, and I couldn’t breathe. “What are you?” Was he a shifter because with the way he glared at me with hunger in his now-black eyes, I doubted this was
his fear kicking in, but something else primal. Within moments, he no longer resembled Luronk, but something hideous, mirroring the mask he had worn. It now lay on the ground near my fake ears.
I stumbled backward, my vision shimmering in waves of confusion. I pictured him attacking, killing me, and no one at the party would notice.
He lunged at me, and I screamed, but no one turned to look my way. The music blared so loud, I could barely hear myself.
Iron fingers squeezed my arm. “You’re a real elf,” he spat in my face. “And I, an orc, almost kissed filth like you.”
I couldn’t take a breath as his words tumbled inside my skull at his warning. Elf. Orc. That wasn’t right. He was mistaken because I had always been a human.
Maybe he’d slipped poison into my drink and now I hallucinated this, but I had served my own juice. And he didn’t appear dizzy or in pain like me, only I did. God, was he a real orc who could shift into human form? Never seen an orc before, but I’d heard they lived up in the mountains. I sucked in a sharp breath.
“You’re wrong. Let me go.” I shoved my free hand against his solid chest to release me.
He sniffed the air, his nose creasing. “I can smell the real you now. What was your plan? Lure me in, then kill me in the bushes?”
“Get away from me, you lunatic.” I looked past him and called out, “Linet! Anyone, please help.”
One woman looked over and waved before heading back to her dancing.
“Did you say it was your birthday after midnight?” he growled, his expression twisted into a scowl. “You’ll taste divine, and my whole family will enjoy you.”
He was going to murder me, then cook me up for his family! Before I found someone to love, to start a family with, to discover joy once again in my life. A wave of fury rolled across my chest, and I slammed my heel into his foot.
He howled, and his weakened grasp allowed me to drive my knee into his groin. He grunted, buckling over, and fell to his side with a thud.
Wicked Souls: A Limited Edition Reverse Harem Romance Collection Page 10
