Hers From The Start: A Collection of First In Series Reverse Harem

by Laura Greenwood

"I don't know why I'm here," I say, and he stops. A second later, I'm in his arms, looking up into his beautiful, moss-green eyes.

  "Yer mother had a good reason to summon ye. Trust me, this is where ye belong. This is where yer needed."

  "I'm not much use without my magic." I grimace, causing him to frown. One of his hands disappears from my back only to softly stroke my cheek.

  "Yer magic doesn't define ya. It's only a wee thing that makes ye even more stunning than ye are already. Ye are strong, Wyn, dinnae forget that. Hell, yer the strongest person I ken."

  I don't believe him. I'm just a human girl without my magic. Just a human who has been transported into a world where everybody else has superpowers. I'm lost here, and he knows it. They all know it.

  "Look, ye -" He suddenly stops and takes a step forward towards the railings, taking me with him. "Did ye see that?"

  "I was looking at you, you silly Scottish Guardian. What did you see?"

  He puts a finger on my lips. I want to lick it. Not now, Wyn. Priorities.

  "There was someone in the bushes..."

  I turn around and stare into the darkness. The only light comes from the few palace windows which are still lit. There's no moon that - shit. There's no moon. How is there no moon in this place. There needs to be a moon. For the tides and all that. Moons are essential. Werewolves, tides, an excuse to go crazy a few nights each month.

  "There!" And then I finally see it. A dark figure creeping through the gardens; a shadow in the night. He's heading to the Royal quarters.

  "Wake the others," Storm whispers while staring into the darkness. I shake off my no-moon thoughts and tiptoe back into the bedroom.

  Three tired men are looking at me. Waking is unnecessary, so I just motion for them to follow me back out onto the balcony. Storm is about to say something, but I put a finger on my lips and he shuts up. Interesting, I should do that more often.

  The guys are surprisingly quiet for being so large. Before we can join Arc outside, he's running through the room. "Quick, they just broke the window to the Queen's quarters!"

  Mother. Surely, that's impossible? She must have security in place; someone shouldn't just be able to walk through the gardens and enter the palace unseen.

  A strange fear grips my heart. She could be in danger. She's immortal, but does that mean she can't be killed?

  I race behind Arc, the rest of the guys following us. The hallways are empty; the only light comes from flickering orbs floating below the ceiling. Someone behind me claps his hands and they immediately become bright, illuminating the corridors we're running through.

  A few heads peek out of open doors, but nobody tries to stop us.

  Another corner, and we can finally see the large silver door that leads to my mother's apartments in the distance. Almost there. Two guards are standing in front of it, oblivious to what might happen inside.

  Storm conjures a gust of wind that slams into the door, throwing it open just in time for us running into the room. It's a small, dark chamber; the vestibule where visitors wait when they want a private audience with the Queen. Ignoring the spluttering guards, we traverse the room in a few large strides and come to a halt in front of a beautifully ornate golden door. Storm grips the doorknob and tries to open it, but it doesn't budge.

  "Quickly, put your hands on the wings!" he commands and pushes me forwards. There are two wings carved into the door, spread out, ready to fly. They're so lifelike that I'd love to pause and study them, but there's no time. I lay my hands on them, feeling the rough, cold surface beneath my flushed skin. Nothing happens.

  "Shit, she's not added her to the list yet," Frost curses. He turns around to the guards running towards us. "Any of you got emergency privileges?" A collective shake of heads causes Storm to kick the door and Arc to let out a stream of colourful curses.

  "Stand back!" Storm shouts and we all crowd against the walls as he creates a swirling fist of wild air. Throwing his arms out in front of him, he makes the fist slam against the door. It doesn't budge. Again and again he uses his air like a battering ram, but the door stays shut.

  "Let me through!" a deep voice shouts and the gathering crowd gives way to a tall man in the same dark blue uniform Ada’s triplet Guardians were wearing yesterday. With the added extra of a long sword hanging from his hips.

  "Gwain, thank the Gods!" Storm explains. "Someone entered her Majesty's quarters and we need to get in."

  "How?" Gwain is not just tall, he looks strong. Intimidating. In command. His peppered hair is cut short, framing a weathered face. A thin scar splits his left eyebrow in two. Here's someone who's seen a lot. Battle, most likely. He exudes a sense of authority that makes me want to do whatever he asks because I know he's right. Which is dangerous. He's powerful, despite his age. Or maybe, because of it.

  "They sneaked through the gardens and broke a window leading to the Royal bedroom, Sir," Storm reports. Wow, this is the first time I've heard him call anyone Sir. This Gwain guy must be important.

  "Stand aside," Gwain commands and without hesitation, everybody does. He puts his hands on the door, just like I did earlier. Except that for him, the door opens with a click. Sword drawn, he enters the dark room, and we follow. Storm and Arc have pushed past me to lead the way, and I'm flanked by my other two Guardians.

  It's too quiet. Something isn't right.

  "Your Majesty?" Gwain calls out, but nobody replies.

  "Lights," Arc whispers softly and a large icy orb above us springs into life, flooding the room with cold, bright light. My mother is lying on her bed. There's a knife in her heart.

  I scream.

  "Search the rooms! Luke, gather men to comb the gardens,” Gwain commands. “Ado, get Theodore here right now."

  While a flurry of activity happens behind us, I approach the bed where my mother lies, motionless.

  "Beira?" I whisper, while Crispin runs to her other side, waving his hands over her in a complicated pattern.

  "She's still alive, but barely," he says tonelessly, leading to gasps all around us. "I'm trying to stabilise her, but we need to remove that knife before it can do any further harm."

  "Shall I do it?" I ask, desperate to do something.

  "No, I need Theodore. It's a Summer knife, it needs to be handled by a trained healer."

  "So we just sit here and wait?" I shout, fear and anger cursing through me. I point at the guards swarming the room. "How could you let this happen? Where were you all? How could someone just come in here and stab Bei... my mother?"

  Someone wraps around me from behind. Salty, fresh air fills my nostrils. Frost. I shake of his arms. I don't want his touch right now. All I want is my mother to wake up. Yes, she's been absent for most of my life, but she's my mother, and she's so close to telling me all I want to know. All I need to know. I need her. She's the queen, and my mother. She's supposed to be a God, how can she lie here like that, dying?

  "Where is Theodore?" Crispin shouts. "She's fading!"

  "How is this knife able to kill her?" I ask, my voice breaking.

  "It's a Summer knife," Crispin grinds through gritted teeth. "Forged by the King of Summer himself. Only he can harm our Queen. It's spreading his filthy essence through her body, destroying her magic, her spirit. But if we can't pull it out, we need to siphon its energy back into the knife first. Otherwise it'll just continue its destruction."

  Damn. Who the hell is that summer king?

  "Sir, Theodore isn’t in the palace, he was called to one of the villages,” a guard reports, panting heavily.

  The healer isn't coming. We need to do something. My mother's face is ashen, with a slightly blue tint to her cheeks. Her hair is no longer smooth and silky, but brittle and weak. She's withering in front of our eyes and there's nothing I can do. If only my magic was here. My magic. Beira said it was holed up because of the demon energy. So if I managed to get rid of the demon energy, my magic would be free. Ready to save my mother.

  A commotion outside the door m
akes us all turn around. A man in a blue uniform enters, followed by two guards holding a man dressed in black. He's only half conscious, his head lolling from side to side.

  "Sir, we caught him not far from the Gate to the Summer Realm," the blue-clad man reports.

  Gwain is by the man's side in two long strides and grab's the assassin's chin, lifting his head up until they're staring into each other’s eyes.

  "Any last words?" Gwain grumbles, his body poised to strike. He's going to break the guy's neck, I'm sure of it. There's no need for an interrogation, the knife says it all.

  The knife.

  "Stop!" I shout and everybody turns to me, startled. I hope I have this right. Otherwise this might end badly.

  "What are ye doing?" Arc whispers but I shake my head. No distractions.

  "Hold him tight," I command, surprised at the authority in my voice. The guards securing the prisoner give me a sharp nod and tighten their grip. Wow, apparently they really do see me as their princess.

  Please work, I whisper to myself as I close my eyes and delve down into my body, searching for my magic. The cave is still there, the boulders still barring the entrance. Now that I know for sure that my magic is remaining locked inside, guarding an evil demon force, I feel even worse for her. Not only is she alone, she's also fighting a solitary battle. Not anymore.

  "Oi!" I call out to her, hoping she'll hear me through the wall of stone. "I need you!"

  I can almost imagine her laughing bitterly. She knows she can't get out without the dark magic escaping. But that's what I'm counting on.

  "Don't be scared, we'll be able to release that demon energy!" I shout. "But I need you now, my mother is dying. Come out, help me!"

  A low rumble makes me perk up. Is it working?

  "Please, magic! Please!" I'm begging her. If my Guardians could see me now, shouting at a stone wall. But I know she's in there.

  And finally, a rock falls to the ground. Granted, it's a tiny one, more like a pebble, but it's a start. More rocks follow, pushed off the top of the boulder wall by an unseen force. My magic is fighting. Good.

  Finally, there's a hole large enough to let me in - or my magic out.

  A meow is all the warning I get, then she's jumping through the air, claws barred, fur ruffled. She's followed by a blob. That's the only word that fits. A black, gooey mass that shifts its shape faster than I can see. I almost dry heave at its sight. It's like someone has distilled nightmares, then mixed it up with despair and a good sprinkling of evil. And it's hunting my magic.

  I stretch out my arms and catch her just as she nears the ground. Her claws scratch my arms, but I don't care. I've got her back. My magic. In my arms. Aww.

  We run, closely followed by the blob. It's hurting my insides as it pursues us through my body. We need to get to the surface before it catches up with us. I need to get it outside.

  My magic whimpers, but there's no time to soothe, no time to reassure her.

  "I need your power," I pant while running. "I need to get that thing out of me and into the vessel." I'm trying not to think of the 'vessel' as a living, breathing man. He tried to kill my mother. He made his choice. He's earned his fate.

  With a soft meow, my magic gives her permission. Power floods me, curses through me with an intensity I've not felt before. Maybe this is what an addict feels getting their first fix after going cold turkey for a while.

  I open my eyes. Everything is brighter, more vibrant than before. I can see magic again, swirling around the people in the room. They are all Guardians; they all have their own kinds of magic. And in their midst, the assassin. The guards are still holding him tight, ignoring his weak struggles.

  I feel the blob burning through my insides. My knees are going weak. It's time.

  I reach out and grab it, fighting to keep it in my grasp. It's slippery and burns as I touch it, and I can't help but scream as I try to pull it out of me. It's holding on, grasping for halt as I squeeze it tightly. Damn, that thing is strong.

  I pour all my energy into my grip on it, willing it to stop fighting. No such luck. It's thrashing and firing burning missiles at me. As my vision goes and I can feel my body sink to the floor, something new enters me. A new energy. No, four. Four strands of cooling magic join my own, wrapping themselves around the blob. Finally, its struggle is getting weaker. Pushing against its resistance, I draw the dark energy out of myself and into the open. I can feel myself losing consciousness; I need to be quick. I push the blob towards the struggling man, careful to keep it contained. I don't even want to know what it could do if it was to be set free. Only a tiny bit further... I stuff the blob into the assassin's mouth and into his centre. He fights me, but he's too weak. The blob wants to stay there, it's no longer trying to resist. It wants a new host, and it doesn't care who that is.

  Finally, I release my grip on it and retreat. As soon as I let go, a wave of energy pushes into me, giving me the strength to open my eyes again. The man's face has turned grey, his eyes black. Dark veins are appearing on his skin, making him look something like a zombie.

  "Kill him," I whisper to the guards, assuming that they will carry out my command. Sitting up, I turn around, towards my mother. This isn't over yet.

  "Help me up," I say to no one in particular, and someone's arms lift me gently until I'm standing on my own two feet. Well, almost. I'd be back on the ground if they didn't still support me.

  My mother is looking even worse. Her face has aged, her cheeks are bony, her forehead full of wrinkles that haven't been there before. Earlier today, she looked not much older than me. Now, she's aging quickly. I don't want to look. This is not the perfect, unchanging mother I've known all my life.

  I sink onto the bed next to her frail body, and place my hands on her chest.

  "Are you sure you can do this?" Crispin asks softly. I look into his beautiful blue eyes and wordlessly, he nods. He's seen my determination. We're going to do this.

  "Use your hands to pull out the knife, while siphoning its magic into it at the same time. All of the summer magic needs to be inside the knife by the time it leaves her body. I'm going to keep her stabilised at the same time." He looks to someone behind me. "Arc, she'll need your powers."

  I don't question why it has to be Arc and not one of the twins, but accept that Crispin knows his stuff.

  Let's do this.

  Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes again and focus on my magic. She's in her cave, sleeping from exhaustion - the cave is still partly blocked, but the entrance is large enough to let me in. I kneel by her side and gently stroke her fur.

  "I need you one more time, little one. Then you can sleep," I whisper, scratching her between her ears. As she wakes, she gives me an indignant scowl. "Sorry," I mumble, but then I remember that I have a very valid reason for demanding more of her. It's my mother, after all.

  I take my magic out of the cave and put her on the floor. She stretches before finally giving me access to her energy.

  Okay, let's just pretend this is going to be easy. I extend my senses until I can feel the knife in my mother's body. It's a pulsating, ugly wound that is seeping black stuff into her while at the same time drawing out her life force. Like a mosquito that takes your blood while injecting something back that makes you itchy. But in this case, it's deadly.

  I follow the black matter through my mother's body. It's everywhere. It's not yet reached all the cells, but it's flooding her veins and has surrounded her heart. It won't beat much longer. How the hell am I supposed to get rid of this stuff?

  I decide to go back to its source: the knife. Maybe I can use it as a sort of anchor. I grip the knife tightly with my magic and begin to pull. My hands are still on my mother's chest, so the knife will stay in position - it's only the magic I'm working on right now.

  Like sucking on a straw, I'm drawing the black magic out of her body. It's a slow process, and a sickening one. With every pull, I feel a tiny bit seeping into me. My magic is moving around frantically, trying
to wade off the invading force, but I ignore her for now. It's not much more.

  When I can no longer find black magic to suck out, I finally move my hands to grip the knife. It's cold and burning hot at the same time. I can feel blisters forming on my skin and I’m tempted to let go of it, but I can’t. I have to do this. This will be worth the pain. I hope.

  Steeling my mind and my body, I pull, holding the magic tight, not letting it flow out of the knife again. Then I remember I should have probably told Crispin before I started. I don't have the energy to speak, so I pull on the bond linking me to him. I know it'll be uncomfortable for him, but he'll understand. Hopefully.

  The dark magic is struggling against my grip, and now that I not only have to control my magic, but also my muscles holding the knife, I'm struggling. I spent too much energy earlier; there's almost none left. And at the same time, I feel some of the knife's magic seep into me. I'm pretty sure I'm going to regret this whole thing. I mean, that's what got me into this mess, overestimating my powers.

  Then, the knife is out. I'm shaking all over, and it falls onto the bed, narrowly missing my mother. I hope Crispin is looking after her, because I can't.

  I let myself fall, sinking into unconsciousness.

  "Wyn," someone whispers. "Time to get up, little Princess."

  I wince. It's too loud, despite the whispering. Do they have sledgehammers in the Realms? Because that's what it feels like. Ouch. My head.

  "Let her sleep," another voice says, not even trying to be quiet. I want to kill them, slowly. But that would be too much work, I'd actually have to open my eyes. No, better go back to sleep. I was dreaming of something nice, something involving lots of limbs and... other body parts.

  "But I'm bored," the first voice whines. Oh, well. They asked for it. I reach for my magic and pull a few strands out, wrapping them around my target.

  "What's wron-", I don't let the other one finish and give them the same magic treatment. There, now I can sleep.

  "Wyn, wake up. You need to release your magic from these idiots. The Commander wants to talk to them and they can't speak."