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

by Laura Greenwood

  Her face flushed and she looked around cautiously. I knew it was a bad idea to ask for her like this, in front of the other staff. I’d done it once, had caused a scandal, another one surely couldn’t do any harm. She nodded, and I let her lead the way out the back door, where we walked little ways away, down to a grassy field where we could receive more privacy.

  “Is there something you need, Majesty?” she asked formally.

  I despised when she was so formal. Just once, I would have liked to hear her say my name. My real name. Aidan. I brought the ukulele to my chest, watched her eyes glance at it curiously.

  “I—uh—” Fuck. I sounded like a fool. I cleared my throat. “I wanted to give you a gift…”

  She looked at the instrument again. “Sorry, Majesty, but I don’t know how to play any instruments. I’m afraid your gift will be wasted on the likes of me.”

  I chuckled. “Not the instrument, rather I wrote a song for you…” Shit. Would she laugh in my face? Was this a stupid gift to give her? I had no other talents...If I had been blessed with Adahm’s ability to draw, I’d have painted her a fucking picture. I shook those thoughts away. What the fuck was wrong with me? I was acting like a damn fool. I’d never been this flustered around her before. I took what I wanted, and I’d not cower like a damn virgin on her wedding night.

  I gestured that she sit down and did so myself, crossing my legs on the ground. I waited until she was seated across from me, before I struck the first cord. It was easier to close my eyes and let my fingers work the magic. It was easier not to see her expression as I bared my soul naked before her, in a way I’d never done before, in a way I’d never even wanted to do before.

  Then I began to sing. I let my voice roll along with the melody as I sang my song of her, of her beauty and her light, of her sternness, of everything she was, and everything I wanted to be for her. I sang until I felt my heart might burst, until my song ended and the final note died down.

  I was almost afraid to open my eyes, but I did. When I looked at her, it was to find her crying.

  Shit.

  I placed my uke off to the side and crawled over to her, bringing her up to her knees so that we were in the same position, bodies touching closely. Even like this, she was so much smaller than me, delicate, though I knew how fierce she was on the inside.

  I cupped her face in my hands and swiped away at the tears. “Please don’t cry.” I hated seeing women cry. It damn near crippled me. It was perhaps, my only weakness. My words only seemed to make her cry harder, a sob came out of her throat and I almost froze in fear. Instinctively, I bent down and kissed a tear on her cheek, and then another. It seemed to have a calming effect on her. She looked up at me, and smiled.

  “That was beautiful.”

  My heart damn near shattered. Fuck. I hadn’t expected this reaction, and it moved me. I had no words for her. No words to say that my music hadn’t already, so I bent and pressed my lips to hers. I’d meant for it to be quick, but suddenly found myself engulfed in her essence. She pushed passed my barrier, tongue diving in to claim me. I bent her over so I could take her deeper into my mouth. Fuck. She was perfect.

  I pulled away, lips hovering over hers. “I love you.” The words came out of me like a confession to the gods. She didn’t freeze up, or frighten, but she didn’t say the words back, either. She just smiled and kissed me again.

  Like it’d be the last kiss she’d ever give me.

  Alastair

  I liked watching her. Not in a creepy way. Just in the way when we were together, and she went about her chores. I liked helping, but sometimes I would pause what I was doing, to watch her walk past, and I’d admire the look on her face, the quick and efficient way she moved, the curves beneath her dress…

  I especially liked the way she smiled. Not the forced one, but the genuine smile she gave to no one in particular. She was usually very serious, and to see her smile was like a gift from the gods themselves.

  She was dusting the books in the library, and I was helping her organize them. She’d insisted many times that she could do it herself, that a prince needn’t do this at all. Maybe. But I enjoyed her, and I enjoyed the books.

  “Do you have a favorite book?” I asked her nervously.

  She dusted one off, handed it to me and I shelved it. “Not in particular,” she replied softly.

  I nodded. Right. “Well…” I cleared my throat. Why was I being so awkward about this? I pulled the small book from my pocket. It’s binding was leather, the pages inside fragile. I handed it to her quickly, and she took it in reluctant hands. “I want you to have this.” She opened it, and flipped through the pages. “It’s just a bunch of poems and stories I transcribed… I wrote down some of my favorites, and some that reminded me of you…”

  She fingered the pages. “A story of love, by Prince Ferguson,” she read.

  I swallowed as she looked up at me. I couldn’t very well put my real name in there. Not when she thought me to be Adahm, even if I’d been dying for her to know the real me. To say my real name. I felt my face flush. “I wrote some original poems in there...for you…”

  Her eyes read over the page. It was a short poem, perhaps not my best, but I’d wanted to write something specifically for her. I wanted to capture with words what it was like to be near her, to watch her, to want her while it felt like she never really saw me. A moment later, she lowered the book, and when she looked up to me, her eyes were glistening with tears.

  “I love it,” she whispered.

  A pang went straight through my chest. “And I love you.” I hadn’t really meant to say that to her, but the words had come out, and there was no taking them back. I loved this woman. I loved her and all that she was. I didn’t even care that my brothers loved her too. I wanted her, and I always had.

  I waited for a reply that never came. Instead, she smiled and put my gift in the pocket of her dress and went back to dusting. I tried to muster up the hurt for her lack of a response, but couldn’t seem to do so. A reply wasn’t necessary.

  After all, I could read the words in her actions easily enough.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Maude

  I love you.

  How could three simple words be so impossible to say? They’d been at the tip of my tongue, begging to be unleashed, but when I looked into three pairs of bright blue eyes, I froze. How could I face each brother and tell them I loved them? And I did.

  I loved all three of them.

  I loved Adahm because of his humor, because of his passion.

  I loved Alastair because of his gentleness, and sweet nature.

  I loved Aidan because of his fire, because of his mischief.

  Somehow, this game had become very, very real. I’d been so bent on revenge, on watching them fall, and now, I just wanted all three of them. But they still hadn’t told me the truth, and I was starting to doubt they ever would.

  Did the truth even matter, when I knew who they were? I didn’t doubt, deep in their heart of hearts, that they knew that I knew the truth about them.

  I supposed that was enough. It was enough to know their hearts, it was enough to know who they were and what they strived for. After all, a name was just a name, it was their essence that mattered most. And I saw them. I knew them.

  And I loved them.

  And like them, I had no plans on giving them up. And like them, I had no plans of ever dropping this charade. I saw the appeal in it. It was just too fun to give up, it was just too fun to not tease and make up lies. I’d never had as much fun in my life as I did when I was tricking three hulking beasts. And I doubted they had as much before as they did when sharing me.

  I walked into the dining hall, where the Fergusons were all gathered to have breakfast. I passed off the day’s correspondence to the queen, and walked away. I could feel their eyes on me, not so discreet. As I reached the door, I turned to look at their beautiful, mischievous faces. All at once, they blushed, and I couldn’t help myself. I wink
ed.

  Smiling, I turned around and left the hall, wondering which of the brothers would follow after me, claiming to be someone he was not, and wondering which lie I’d stick in his head this time that would keep him up all night.

  Yes, tricking them was too much fun.

  I heard his footsteps clamour after me. I turned, just as we came face to face. He smiled, and whispered my name.

  What fools, to not realize that the ones being tricked were them.

  Because I refused to be duped again.

  *The End...for now…*

  Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this prequel, please consider leaving a review!

  Also by Aleera Anaya Ceres

  The Hybrid Trilogy

  Braving the Beasts

  Escaping the Beasts

  Freeing the Beasts

  The Witch Games Trilogy

  The Witch Games

  Deep Sea Chronicles

  Fall in Deep

  Royal Secrets

  Secrets Among the Tides (A mermaid Reverse Harem romance)

  Junior Eh

  Red Line Series Book 1/Prequel to Changing On The Fly

  TB Mann

  Contemporary Sports-Hockey RH

  Blurb

  Everyone leaves. It’s all Kayla knows. So, when things finally go right, she can’t believe her good fortune.

  During the summer, she escapes her sheltered life, and spends time with her Aunt Susan. It helps that Aunt Susan’s next door neighbors have three hockey playing sons and one almost son all around her age. They are her bridge to a normal world. If only her stupid crush on two of them would stop getting in the way.

  Her seventeenth summer should be the best. But true to form…everyone leaves, including Kayla.

  An emergency phone call rips Kayla from her summer plans and throws her into a situation she’s desperately unprepared for. And to top it off, she’s nursing a broken heart. But surrounded by doctors, maybe one can heal her? Or will everyone leave her again?

  An emergency phone call rips Kayla from her aunt’s house, and drops her into an experience she’s woefully unprepared for. And to top it off, she’s nursing a broken heart.

  Surrounded by doctors, maybe one will be able to heal her. But only if her curse remains away.

  This is book 1 or the prequel book to the Red Line Series. Kayla, Kris, Ryan, and Adam’s story is continued in Changing On The Fly, Red Line Book 2.

  To my daughter Sarah,

  Thank you for being my sounding board and for being my partner in crime for hockey games, rodeos, and other pastimes when your father is busy.

  Junior “Eh”

  Junior “Eh” is a play on Junior A hockey. Prior to 1970, what we now call Major Junior Hockey was called Tier One Junior A. Major Junior Hockey consists of three of three leagues (WHL, OHL, and QMJHL) which are the premier league of amateur hockey in Canada.

  Players are between the ages of 16 to 20.

  On their 18th year, if their birthday falls on or before September 15th, they can choose to enter the hockey draft for an opportunity to play in the NHL.

  Chapter One

  Your life motto is: Life’s a bitch and then you die.

  Really? I couldn’t stop the snort that came from my mouth as I read the result of the stupid online quiz. I knew all about life being a bitch, but I hadn’t let it stop me. If anything, I lived my life under the saying “every cloud has a silver lining.” And I had lots of clouds.

  When I was six and my older brother ten, our mother walked out on us. I didn’t remember any fighting between her and my dad. In fact, I thought and that we were a happy family. I was my mommy’s little princess and daddy’s little girl. But on that day, I gave up on being a princess and became daddy’s little girl full time.

  We had a wonderful relationship—just the three of us. My brother and father were my knights in shining armor. We went everywhere and did everything together. And since my brother loved to play hockey—he was good at it—I spent a lot of time in arenas next to my dad. Hockey became our bonding time. It was the one time where I had him all to myself.

  My father worked hard with long hours. And when he worked, my brother and I were left together. He was my protector and best friend. I would sit for hours logging all his timings, his repetitions, his stats, anything he needed me to while he trained off-ice. All because I loved him with every fibre of my small body.

  The closeness between my father, brother, and me was the silver lining from the cloud of my mother leaving.

  At age ten, my father bundled us up into the car and we headed off for a summer vacation. The first we’d taken since my mother walked away. After hours in the car, we stopped in front of a vaguely familiar house. “Where are we?”

  My father turned off the engine before turning to face me. “We’re at your Aunt Susan’s house. She’s your mother’s sister.”

  I felt a small stirring at the back of my mind. The name sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place it until Aunt Susan stepped out her front door onto the porch. With a squeal, I jumped from the car.

  She stepped off the porch and wrapped her arms around me. “My dear, Kayla. Boy, have you ever grown.” I snuggled in, breathing the scent of baking and earth that I remembered fondly.

  My father stayed for a week. But he let my brother and me stay for the summer. I missed him dearly, but I loved spending the time with Aunt Susan. My brother loved it there as well, but I think it had more to do with my Aunt Susan’s neighbors, the Scotts. They had three boys and all of them were heavily involved with hockey. When they went off to various hockey camps, they took my brother with them, leaving me all alone.

  Aunt Susan and Mrs. Scotts became my silver linings. For the first time since my mother left, I spent time around other females. Between them, they kept me busy learning how to garden and cook among other girly type activities. It was different from spending time in hockey arenas with nothing but males, and I enjoyed it. But I would have been lying if I said I didn’t miss hockey.

  I didn’t know what happened that summer—Aunt Susan maintained she only offered to be a female resource for me as I prepared to enter womanhood—but dad changed. He still spent time with me at the arena and we never missed a single hockey game or practice my brother participated in, but he also spent one or two evenings a week away from the house.

  That Christmas Eve, after I changed in my PJs and climbed onto his lap for our traditional Christmas Eve story, my father informed us that a woman would be spending Christmas Day with us. He wanted us to be on our best behavior. My brother’s face frowned, but I readily agreed. The fact my daddy wanted to ensure the unnamed woman without a family could celebrate a family Christmas made me love him even more. No one was more compassionate and loving than him.

  Christmas morning passed in a joyous haze. My brother and I received a few small presents before I gave dad the handmade presents I’d worked on for weeks. Dad sat and watched me bake cookies. They were ones that Aunt Susan had taught me to make. I had hoped that they would be a nice treat for the woman Dad invited over. I wanted to make the lady feel welcome.

  The woman arrived at our apartment door wearing a pretty dress and carrying two wrapped gifts. She kissed me on the cheek and gave me one of the large wrapped boxes. With a happy smile, I unwrapped the box to find a beautiful doll. When I moved to open the box, she stopped me, explaining the doll was to be looked at, not to play with.

  It was the first hint that she wasn’t as nice as she seemed. But even then I was willing to give her a chance… anything to keep the large smile on my daddy’s face.

  Throughout the afternoon, she continued with her little digs when my father wasn’t around. She questioned why I wasn’t wearing a dress. Made a comment about my hair being too short for a girl. They were all along similar lines, suggesting I wasn’t girly enough. They didn’t mean anything to me, but at fourteen, my brother wasn’t happy. To me, I just knew that I didn’t like her.

  But the worst was when
she finally took a bite of one of my cookies before spitting it back out onto her plate. When my father left the room to get her a glass of milk instead of the various drinks we had on the table, she leaned over, putting her face in front of mine. “Don’t think that I will forget how you tried to poison me today.”

  I was mortified and my brother wrapped his arm around me as I tried to keep the tears from falling. The cookies tasted perfectly delicious to me and both my dad and brother had eaten a handful of them without any issues. But her words struck deep. Worry filled me. Would my brother or dad die because they ate my cookies? Would I?

  My dad returned with the glass of milk. The sneer on the woman’s face turned into a delighted smile. After taking a sip, she suggested that the adults move to the living room to watch something on TV. When my dad agreed, my brother made an excuse to go to his bedroom, leaving me alone at the empty table. I didn’t mind. It gave me time to throw all my cookies into the garbage while I cleaned up from supper.

  Just before bed, my dad called my brother and me out into the living room. With a smile on his face, he motioned to the woman’s left hand. “We’re getting married. Come give your new mother a kiss goodnight.”

  I stood still, not knowing what to do. I didn’t want a new mother. Things in our family were great with just the three of us. And if I could keep visiting Aunt Susan during the summer, I had everyone I needed. A new mother was not needed. Especially her.