The Queen's Consorts Box Set: A Reverse Harem Fantasy Trilogy

by Elena Lawson

  And I was done wearing the ridiculous gown Suriel had stuffed me into.

  The jewels crusting the hem and the sleeves were heavy and scratched against my skin every time I moved. The corset was too tight, and the servant pulled my hair back so severely I was afraid it would give up trying to hold its shape and spring from my skull.

  Ugh. Though I’d slept alright curled against Alaric in the woods the night before—his warm leather and vanilla scent and his Grace enveloping me in calm—I was utterly spent and more than ready to be done with forced pleasantries. The faster I slept, the faster I could wake and do what I came here to do and get back to my own palace.

  More than that, I was beginning to worry about Kade and would have to reach through the bond tomorrow to check on him. I thought I’d have heard something from him by now…

  Alaric spoke with a male to his left, conversing about the differences in our courts, and the ways in which they were the same. Finn conversed animatedly with the Queen, shouting to be heard over the distance between them. Him, Edris, and Suriel laughing as they all drank their fill of wine.

  Tiernan hadn’t had more than a glass. Alaric even less so, and I was glad at least two of us maintained our sobriety. The room tilted again, and I felt the roiling mixture of fire and ice in my core spinning in confusion at the queasiness.

  I shouldn’t be here.

  As if sensing my need to leave, Tiernan brushed my arm, and I leaned back to look at him, my body swaying more than it should’ve.

  “Can I take you back to our chambers?”

  I didn’t trust myself to speak aloud, so I threw a resounding yes to him through our bond.

  “I thought so,” he said, and sneakily helped me to stand. I squared my shoulders and attempted to stand tall—blinking the strange film from my eyes.

  Clearing my throat, and bracing my weight against Tiernan, I said to the queen, “Thank you for the meal. I look forward to meeting with you first thing in the morning.”

  Her grin grew, and she squinted at me through the haze of her own drink, “Oh, won’t you stay?” she asked, “I was about to call for some music?”

  Gods. The idea of dancing nearly made me throw up what little of the spicy food I’d choked down. “I—” I began, but Tiernan interjected, sensing my discomfort.

  “The Queen needs her rest, Your Majesty. Our journey was long.”

  Her smile faltered, but she didn’t argue any further. Righting the crown atop her head with an undignified pout, “As you wish.”

  Alaric moved to stand, cutting off mid-conversation with the male sitting next to him.

  “Stay,” I implored him. “I’m just going to bed. Please—finish your meal.”

  My captain shared a long look with Tiernan, and his unease pawed at me with insistent strokes. “Fine,” Alaric finally said, “We’ll finish up here and be right behind you.”

  Are you alright? He added through the bond.

  I nodded. Fine. A little too much wine…

  His brows rose, and he pressed his lips into a thin line to avoid laughing.

  I rolled my eyes. Do me a favor?

  Anything.

  Make that male’s, I thought, glancing at Tiernan’s sour-faced uncle, night as awful as you possibly can.

  His head cocked to one side.

  Trust me, I practically shouted down the bond, he deserves it.

  “Let’s go,” I whispered to Tiernan, and he took me by the arm, bracing my weight with his and led me from the dining chamber.

  “Get me out of this godsforsaken thing,” I whined, fumbling with the laces at my back.

  “Here,” Tiernan said, finishing his sweep of the bedchamber, “Stop it, you’ll never be able to untie that yourself.”

  He gently swatted my hands away, and I braced myself on the bedpost, wondering why the room smelled of jasmine and hot cedar. The mixture was heady and erotic, alternately calming and exciting my senses.

  “She sent servants to put me in the damned thing—she should have sent them back to get me out of it. Gods, these jewels weigh more than I do!”

  Tiernan chuckled, unweaving the corset up my back with slow, practiced precision. With each deepening breath I could take as it loosened, I became more and more lightheaded. Using the bedpost as more of a crutch than a brace.

  “There,” he said, tugging the gown down to pool in a mass of gossamer, silk and jewels at my feet. “Better?”

  I swayed trying to step out of the tangle of fabric, nearly fell. Tiernan caught me with a strong arm hooked around my middle. I blinked my eyes back into focus. “What was in that wine? Did she poison me?”

  His hair fell into his face when he shook his head, “No—she didn’t poison you. I did warn you the wine was strong,” he said pointedly, righting me back on my feet. “Sit down, let help you get into bed.”

  “Did I make a fool of myself?” I asked, sitting down hard on the edge of the mattress—sighing when I sunk deep into it’s soft embrace.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You were perfectly regal,” he said with a wink, “If anyone should be embarrassed, it’s Suriel.”

  Tiernan helped me out of my shoes—pulled the stockings from my legs, letting his fingertips trail over my skin. Gooseflesh rose in their wake and I shivered. Then I remembered something she’d said to him and my chest tightened.

  “Did you and The Day Queen ever… I mean did you—”

  “Lie with her?”

  Unable to meet his stare, I laid back onto the bed, staring up at the wisp-thin netting tapering up to the ceiling. “Did you?”

  He set my leg back down on the bed and leaned over me, putting his face parallel to mine.

  “No,” he said, and I knew he told the truth. He smirked, “But that’s not to say she didn’t want to.”

  Ugh. I shoved him off me and he fell onto the bed with a disgruntled ooomff.

  “Who wouldn’t want to—have you seen yourself? The depictions of the gods hardly compare.”

  The canopy spun again, and I groaned, covering my eyes. But that only seemed to make it worse.

  “You should sleep,” Tiernan said and lifted my head onto a pillow. He leaned down and the warmth of him pressed against me. He laid a kiss on my forehead and my heart sputtered. The tether between us gave a small tug.

  I grabbed him by his tunic when he made to pull away, and his shoulders pulled inwards. Opening myself up to feel him, I found that he radiated pain.

  My jaw clenched, and my stomach roiled at the ugliness. It was his uncle—having to endure his company had shaken Tiernan, and I understood why. I’d seen what his uncle did to him. Giving no sympathy for his parent’s death. Ignoring him. Only paying him any mind if it was to punish him with the whip of his belt or the sting of his knuckles across Tiernan’s jaw.

  He would pay for his sins—whether in this life, or the next.

  “Don’t pay him another thought,” I said, and Tiernan looked away. I pulled his face back to me and pressed my lips softly against his. His hand tightened around mine and the dark emotions abated—just a little.

  “Goodnight,” he said as I pulled away, falling back onto the silky-soft sheets.

  I rubbed the back of his hand. Gave him a reassuring smile. “Goodnight, Tiernan.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Kade

  The darkness scattered like smoke in the wind—blowing away as I retook my Fae form to reveal a corridor of the palace. I rushed down the marble tile in long, fast strides, my body readjusting to the weight of bone and muscle. Travel by smoke was convenient, but it always left me feeling weak, heavy, and with the acrid taste of ashes on my tongue.

  I leaned out the nearest window and spat out the foul black ichor before hurrying on to the council chambers. They wouldn’t have summoned me at this hour if it wasn’t important.

  It wasn’t difficult to find the tether of the Immortal Bond. Since Liana left there’d been a hollowness in my chest. As if every mile she put between herself and I, the thinner the t
ether stretched and the more the absence of her burrowed into me. I latched onto the link between us and hurtled my thoughts through it. I know it’s late, I said, but the council has called me—I think the envoy has returned to the palace.

  Doing as Finn explained before he left, I forced what I was seeing to travel through the bond, too.

  There came no response. I worked harder to maintain the connection, hoping she could see what I saw. Hear my calls.

  I shoved the doors open, turning so my wings wouldn’t catch on the frame. Four sets of eyes found mine. Only half the council members had come at the summons. They stood around one end of the long table, their faces pale and drawn. A putrid odor permeated the council chamber. I recoiled from it as if it were a physical blow, my eyes watering and nostrils flared.

  “What is it?” I demanded, searching for the answer in their close-lipped frowns. “And what in the name of the gods is that smell?”

  “The envoy has returned,” the court’s baron of finance answered me, looking nauseated. He gaged, cringing.

  The room held no others. And I had seen no riders when I swept the northern roads this morning. “Well, where are they? What have they said?”

  “They’ve said nothing,” the rotund one with the beard snarled, stepping away from the table to reveal a wooden chest standing open on the table.

  My stomach dropped. I stepped in closer to the table and the three males parted, allowing me to pass. I knew what I would find, and yet I had to look. To be certain.

  I peered over the top of the chest. A finger of fire raced up my spine. My stomach curdled like soured milk.

  It was grotesque. It was the envoy—that much was certain. It was easy enough to tell by the severed hand still baring the ring seal of the Night Court. But there were four hands. Four eyes. Four tongues. Stitched together into the disturbed shape of a monstrous creature with a gaping maw—the flesh paled and putrid. The base of the chest coated in a thick layer of crimson grime.

  Swallowing the urge to vomit, I stepped away from it.

  “We must send word to the queen. She must return.”

  I wasn’t sure who’d said it. Didn’t care.

  If I succeeded in allowing her to see through my eyes, she already knew. The envoy had returned… in pieces.

  “I will,” I responded. “I’ll need to tell Silas, too.” I stalked from the council chamber, letting the fire build and writhe in my core.

  They called after me, asking me when I’d be leaving—how long it would take for Liana to return. Asking me all sorts of questions I stopped hearing.

  Vaulting from the terrace at the end of the corridor, I flew north toward Silas and the Horde—hoping I could make it to the border by dawn.

  The message was clear. Ricon had no intention of talking terms or coming to any sort of compromise that would lessen the bloodshed. He meant to wipe out any who would stand in his way of getting Liana’s crown. There would be no mercy. It was time to prepare for war.

  Chapter Twenty

  Liana

  I gagged, heaving in a long shuddering breath.

  Eyes wide in the dark, I bolted upright in the bed. Arms reached out for me—tried to grab me, and I yelped, backing away. My pulse a drum-beat echo in my ears. I backed up into a wall of solid, naked muscle. I lashed out, trying to find my attacker, but my eyes wouldn’t adjust.

  Strong hands bound my wrists in their vise-like grip and I thrashed, trying to get free.

  “Liana!” My name was a command—loud and insistent. “Liana, it’s us. You’re safe.”

  The wall of muscle behind me reached out to rub my back, and I flinched, my spine going rigid at first before my breathing and pulse calmed, evening out.

  I found the curve of Alaric’s face in the trickle of moonlight and reached out for him, collapsing into his arms.

  “Was it a bad dream?” Finn asked from somewhere to my right while Tiernan moved in closer to continue rubbing my back.

  I shook my head against Alaric’s tunic, “No, it was a vision. From Kade.”

  Alaric stiffened beneath me, his breath hitching. And Tiernan’s hand stilled, dropping from my back. “What did you see?” he asked.

  My stomach roiled, the acid rising into my throat at the memory. It wasn’t so much the sight—though it was morbidly grotesque—no, it was the smell. That awful, putrid rank of decaying flesh and the strong metallic tang of clotted blood. I swallowed, hauling in clean, crisp air through my nose to clear it.

  “The envoy returned,” I told them, “The Mad King sent them back in pieces.”

  They were all silent after that and I wished someone would say something. Anything. But they didn’t, not for long, arduous minutes.

  “Come,” Finn said, “I’ll help you dress,” and rose from the bed to light a lantern.

  “I’ll call for some tea,” Tiernan added, padding to the front door to give the bell two sharp rings.

  Alaric took me by the arms and held me back to look into my eyes, “Queen Suriel will see reason. She’ll help us,” he said with a forced smile.

  I wanted to believe him, but I wasn’t sure he believed it himself.

  “Your Majesty,” I said, bowing at the waist in greeting. The sun had only just risen, and there was still a shroud of morning mist clinging to the earth. Making the hot air seem thick and hazy. “Thank you for meeting with me so early.”

  The council chamber in the palace of day looked more like a drawing room. There was a table in the middle, but big-puffy armchairs and wide fat cushions sat against the walls as though for her council members to relax or meditate. The whole room had a warm feel, clothed in golds, reds, and burnt orange fabrics and finery, bathed in the growing dawn light.

  It was very… informal.

  “Yes,” said Suriel, pinching the bridge of her nose, dark circles under her eyes marred her otherwise flawless features. I mentally thanked Tiernan for his wisdom in calling for the ginger root tea to soothe the aftereffects of my over drinking…

  “I’m told the reason you’ve requested the old law of Honorem Copulare is urgent, but I’m sure it could’ve waited until a more agreeable hour.”

  I shook my head, “No, it couldn’t wait any longer.”

  Her brows raised, but she nodded, “I apologize—please do unburden yourself, you look as though ready to burst with it…”

  My hand shook at my side and my heart sputtered in my chest. She will help us. She must.

  I filled my lungs with a steadying breath—no sense in easing into it… “King Ricon II has returned—he didn’t fall in the battle of Mt. Noctis.”

  Her face screwed up into a confused scowl. She allowed the information to marinate between us, not uttering a word.

  After a beat or two of silence, I continued, “He and his army camp in the northern reaches of the Wastes.”

  “His army?”

  A flood of ice rushed into my gut, “Ten thousand strong. Alchemists, Fae, and Draconians.”

  “Alchemists working alongside Fae?”

  I’d just told her an army of ten thousand waits on my doorstep, and that is the bit she picked out.

  I didn’t oblige her with an answer.

  “We’ve come to ask for your help,” I said, and her teal eyes flicked up to meet mine, gleaming with something like fear, “Our Horde army numbers close to five thousand—it won’t be enough to defeat him.”

  She cocked her head at me, squinting her eyes, “Why? Why has he returned/ What does he want?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” I asked her, clasping my hands to keep them from trembling, forcing my voice to remain strong and true, “He wants what was taken from him—his crown.”

  “Your crown?”

  I could tell she was weighing her options. Her asking me if it was my crown he meant to take told me she was already shying away from the idea of helping us. “Yes,” I answered, “But once he’s wiped out the Fae of my court and claimed his prize, what’s stopping him from wanting to expand his empire?”<
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  She snarled, pacing the pretty carpet in her bare feet—her shoulders tensed and shaking, “You don’t know that!” she nearly shouted, “You don’t know that he’ll come here. It was his daughter who stole his crown—it wasn’t us. It wasn’t the Day Court!”

  I put my hands out in a calming gesture, “That may be true, but it was your court that came to aid us in the battle at Mt. Noctis. His followers died by Day Court hands, too.”

  “And you think he’ll want retribution? Blood for blood?”

  “I don’t know, Suriel. All I know is that together, we stand a chance of defeating him. But neither of us can alone.”

  She paced her way to the only window in the room, leaning out of it and gulping down air as if the council chamber itself was suffocating her.

  “I know this is a lot—” I began, but my vision wavered, blurring, and a forceful tug at my chest had me crying out. I winced, falling to my knees on the carpet.

  Suriel spun, “Liana…”

  But her words and everything else around me vanished.

  I shivered, the cold pricking at my bare arms. Opening my eyes—no, not my eyes, Kade’s eyes, I found myself high above the ground, hovering in midair.

  They’re coming, Kade spoke in my mind and I looked north, the blood turning to ice in my veins. My heart stopping. It couldn’t be…

  Far into the distance, an army marched over the frost-covered earth. From the air they looked like ants—thousand upon thousands of ants. Marching south.

  The clatter of their shields and armor and their booted feet pounding dirt a symphony of dread. Rippling through the air and into my soul.

  An arrow ripped through the sky, its obsidian tip glinting in the sunlight as it headed straight for Kade. He dropped just in time for it to soar over him.

  Get out of there! I screamed inside his head and he spun away, casting me from his mind. I tumbled back down the tether, coming back to myself in Suriel’s council chambers, my fingers digging into the floor like claws.