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

by Elena Lawson

  She leaned into me, and I wrapped my arms around her. We stayed like that for what could’ve been hours. Huddled together in the cold. The snow falling gently around us.

  After a time, she jerked, whipping her head up, “I remember Finn saying something about a female who would see through the eyes of her bonded mate without him opening the connection. Do you remember?” she said animatedly, her eyes wide, “The story about the female who bonded herself to a male without his knowledge and was plagued by images of him with another lover in her dreams!”

  “That’s it!” she exclaimed before I could answer, “They won’t answer me if they’re in the heat of battle, but if I try hard enough, I should be able to see through their eyes, right?”

  I shrugged, “It’s worth a try. Here,” I said, holding out my hand, “I’ll open the connection between you and I—then maybe I can see what you’re seeing.”

  She shoved her hand into mine and immediately shut her eyes, her brows pulling together in fierce concentration. Gods, even when she was frantic and had been crying for hours, she was still the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen.

  The connection rendered me blind for an instant before the both of us jumped as she latched on to… on to Finn. The Draconian dove through the sky, shooting bolts of ice from his hands like lances—they tore through unsuspecting Alchemist soldiers on the ground, staking them to the cold earth.

  I could almost taste the smoke—the metallic tang of blood on my tongue. Corpses littered the battlefield, the carnage jaw-dropping in its magnitude. Bodies, thousands of them—thousands of lives lost on both sides. As Finn spiraled up through the air, evading from an attack of lightning from another Draconian, I caught an aerial view of the battle below.

  We weren’t winning.

  Liana’s hand squeezed mine tightly, and I knew she saw it, too. Our dwindling numbers. And their forces pushing through the gap and onto Liana’s territory.

  Sparks of foreign power lit the ground below where the Alchemists attacked our Fae. A volley of arrows from our side of the battle blotted out the moon, finding their targets in the advancing troops of the Mad King’s force.

  But Finn didn’t see it coming, he dove, but he was a second too late. A stray arrow found purchase in his shoulder—blowing through flesh, muscle, sinew, and bone.

  Liana shouted, and the connection broke. She scrambled to get it back, and we were thrown into the battle again, this time through the eyes of Alaric as he cut down foe after foe with his dual wielded swords. Wheezing, his breath puffing around him in great white clouds.

  He looked up, and we saw Kade as another Draconian knocked him from the sky, sending him plummeting down to meet the ground.

  “Call them back,” I shouted to Liana, “Do it now! It’s a slaughter—we can’t win. You have to—”

  But she was already doing it, screaming down the bond to Alaric, I could hear her too.

  Fall back! she said. Do it now! Give the order!

  The momentary distraction was all the Alchemist needed to strike Alaric across the back with his blade. Knocking the wind from his lungs and us from his mind.

  But the connection was still there and after a moment of grating silence, his voice came weakly down the bond, I’ve given the order.

  We exhaled together, Liana slumping against me—utterly spent.

  The crunch of boots and the flapping of wings preceded the shouts calling for a healer. The wounded had begun to arrive.

  I watched as Liana’s focus narrowed and her jaw tightened. After a single shaking inhale, she flew into action, springing to her feet. “Bring the wounded inside,” she told them, and ran back into the mill.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Liana

  The wounded just kept coming.

  One after another after another. I couldn’t heal any of them fully, just enough to save them from the edge of death, or to lessen some of the pain. But even rationing my Grace as I was, I could already feel it dwindling, and the line of wounded still to be seen continued to grow. Several Horde soldiers were already dead by the time I got to them.

  I’d had to stop to vomit into a basin or a bucket twice already. The smell was foul and cloying. There was so escaping it.

  But still I pressed on. Tiernan followed me from soldier to soldier, doing what he could to help. Holding them still. Giving them water, or something to bite down on when my Grace of healing wouldn’t work fast enough, and I had to cauterize open, oozing wounds.

  I laid my hands on one of the males laying against the wall. The arrow through his chest had missed his heart by a hair but had punctured one of his lungs. Tiernan snapped off the tip and yanked it through him while I set to work mending the tears in the fragile tissue of his lung. He would continue coughing up blood until he got it all out, but I made it so no more could seep in. I let my hands fall away from him, staggering as I tried to move to the next.

  Tiernan steadied me, “You have to take a rest,” he said, his voice high-pitched and frantic, “You can’t keep going like this.”

  But he was wrong. I could keep going. I just had to push harder. The fire was easier to command—my fury at what they had done to the Fae of my court ran wild through my veins—and I cauterized the next two patients in the blink of an eye. There was no time to administer something for the pain, so they were left screaming at my searing touch.

  The sounds wrapped around my heart, settling like lead weights in my stomach.

  Black spots crowded the edges of my vision and I shook my head. Catching myself before a bout of vertigo almost had me careening to the left.

  Tiernan took hold of me firmly, taking my face into his hands, “Stop this!”

  I shoved him off, rushing to the next, and the next, and the next. But more and more came. It was a never ending deluge of tortured pain and twisted faces.

  I peeled my hands from the female warrior, leaving her with an ugly scar of raised red flesh, but at least she would live. Turning to the next patient, I caught sight of them through the haze of exhaustion. My heart stilled—then sped up again.

  They stood in the doorway of the mill, each carrying a wounded soldier in with them, when it was clear to see they were the ones who needed tending.

  The arrow still protruded from Finn’s shoulder. Alaric winced every time he moved, and Kade’s entire right arm and side were badly bruised. He could have crushed his bones. Could have internal bleeding from the fall…

  I stepped out from the table, letting go of the ledge of it I had been using to steady myself. But I lost my balance, my head spinning violently. The black spots grew—diving in front of my eyes until I couldn’t see. My head connected with something hard, and the last thing I heard was shouting from familiar voices before I could hear nothing at all.

  Chapter Thirty

  Finn

  It took almost a full day for Liana to wake. And by the time she did, she found herself back in the palace, awakening in her own bed. We’d had to make some hard and fast decisions while she was unconscious. Healer Loris said with the damage she’d done to herself, it would be a miracle if she woke at all.

  Liana had healed over a hundred Horde soldiers. Loris told us while she healed us she’d seen nothing like it. But Liana paid the toll—almost with her life. Alaric and the rest of us already spoke our piece to her about it. Told her if she ever put her life in danger like that again we’d—well, I don’t know what we’d do, but she wouldn’t like it.

  And then the argument was over. There was no time for grudges or fighting. We’d survived the battle, and she had lived, and that’s all that mattered.

  “We have to think of something,” she said, still bleary-eyed—her hair a mass of tangled silver, “They’ll be at the front gates in a few days if not less.”

  We had slowed them as much as we could. Setting traps along their path to slow them and dwindle their numbers as they made their way to the palace. But still they came, and their numbers weren’t dwindled enough to make any mean
ingful difference.

  “The palace has stood for a thousand years,” Alaric said, “It’s hewn from the stone itself. We can wait them out.”

  She shook her head, “There are weak points,” she said, “The main gate isn’t fortified, and the Draconians can get in through any of the terraces.”

  “She’s right,” I agreed, “We wouldn’t be able to wait them out for long before they found a way in.”

  Liana stood on shaking legs, pacing the section of floor next to her bed, “We need more soldiers.” She flinched, her chin quivering.

  The battle at the gap had dwindled the Horde numbers to little over a thousand, and even though she saved over one hundred of those lives… it made little difference in the face of all the lives lost.

  Families had been torn apart. And they had evacuated the rest of the non-fighting Fae south with a letter bearing the queen’s seal. Inside was Liana’s plea to the queen of day to give them refuge. Some refused to go south—and they remained in the palace, protected by its walls for as long as they would hold.

  Liana stopped, and I could see an idea forming behind her eyes. “What if we don’t need more soldiers?” she asked, chewing her bottom lips, “What if we just needed stronger ones?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked her.

  “I mean—what if we had a way to make the thousand fighting Fae we have stronger?”

  “I’m not following.”

  “The Sidhe,” she breathed, her eyes widening. Gleaming. “What if we allowed everyone to drink of the waters of the Sidhe?”

  “That’s insane,” Kade growled from where he sat on the edge of her bed.

  “Is it?” I challenged him, my brain trying to solve the puzzle Liana presented it with.

  Alaric stood by Kade, “It takes years to learn to control Graces given by the Sidhe.”

  “We don’t need them to be able to fully control their Graces,” Liana argued, “They just have to have them. When I was first Graced—my Graces came out only in times of dire need. With—with Thana, and when I had to heal Kade. Was it not the same for all of you?”

  The others didn’t answer, but I did, “It was,” I told her, “My Grace of ice was uncontrollable, but it only manifested in situations of need in the beginning.”

  “Is it not worth trying?” she asked the others.

  Tiernan pursed his lips, “I think so,” he said. “We can’t defeat them as we are now. We’d be fools not to try it.”

  “The Sidhe is reserved only for nobles,” Alaric said, “The council will be outraged.”

  “Why? Why shouldn’t every Fae be able to drink of its waters?” Liana hissed, her gaze cutting to Kade and I, “Let the water itself decide if a Fae is worthy of being Graced. It has the power to choose who will be and who won’t be. It should never have been reserved only for nobility,” she laughed, “It’s a ridiculous rule.”

  Her reasoning was met with silence, and it was Alaric who broke it, rising from where he sat in an armchair near the door, “Alright,” he said, throwing his hands up as though admitting defeat, “Let’s do it.”

  “I’ll get dressed,” Liana said, rushing to untie her robe.

  Alaric, Kade, and Tiernan made for the door where her servant, Jaen, stood, wringing her delicate hands in her apron, “Majesty,” she whispered, not meeting anyone’s gaze, “That thing you requested… it’s ready.”

  “What thing?” I asked her, cocking my head.

  Her spine went rigid. She looked away, shrugged. “A new pair of trousers,” she said dismissively, clearing her throat, “Could you…” she started, silently asking for me to leave, and turned to Jaen, “Stay and help me dress, will you?”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Liana

  We could see them coming. The smoke from their campfires drifting up through the trees to the north. They would be at the front gates by morning. Every able-bodied soldier in the palace, all one thousand of them had drank from the waters of the Sidhe.

  Over half of them were bestowed a Grace. Flairs of power tearing through the ceremonial hall. Fire. Ice. Wind. Earth. Water. Lighting. There was no end to the scope of Graces. One Fae seemed to be Graced with the ability to commune with animals, and she had a rather lengthy conversation with Arrow about mice.

  One was Graced with shadow—the rarest of all Graces. That had the noblemen of the council sitting up and paying attention.

  I could feel they had already begun to soften to the idea of sharing the Sidhe with all Fae. The results were undeniable. If they meant it for nobility only, why then did the water chose to Grace peasants?

  It was working. I couldn’t help but smile watching Fae after Fae drink from the waters. The surge of power reinvigorating them, bringing light back into their war-hardened stares. There was no way to know if it would be enough. They now outnumbered us three to one, which was even worse odds than we began with.

  But this time, I wouldn’t be waiting in the infirmary for the wounded. I cursed myself every waking minute of the day I allowed myself to stay behind and I wouldn’t do it again. This would be the final battle and it would decide the future of my court.

  I would fight.

  And if I died, I’d at least have the solace of knowing I died fighting for the lives of my people and the freedom of the Night Court. I tapped my pocket where the trinket from the smithy weighted down my jacket. I hoped I’d get to use it before the end.

  With dawn mere hours away, we were all restless. We’d checked and double-checked everything. They had reinforced the main gate. The Horde had been fed with provisions from the royal stores. Blades had been sharpened, and arrows were still being crafted. Armor repaired. The practice ring was buzzing with activity—filled with Fae trying to hone their new Graces and learn how to wield them on command.

  In the relative calm of my chambers, I felt useless.

  At least Kade and Finn had Silas’ call to answer and left to help him in his last ditch effort to slow Ricon’s army. But I was to remain here. And Alaric and Tiernan would stay with me.

  I took a slow sip of the warm spiced wine, reveling the burn as it slithered down my throat. Tiernan and Alaric sat with me in the parlor, both seemingly transfixed by the fames in the hearth. Their brows narrowed, and jaws taught. Hands clasped together, and bodies tense.

  Tiernan’s golden hair shone with strands of copper in the firelight, and his green eyes looked more hazel. The fire cast shadows over his sharp-angled features.

  Alaric’s chest heaved with his sigh, and I noticed—I think for the first time—how the stubble on his face had grown a bit longer. Strands of deep chestnut, blackest onyx, and bits of fiery amber and gilded gold all blended together into a lovely warm deep brown. The short beard suited him. Took some sharpness away from his jaw and brought color to his usually paler features. Made his steel-blue eyes seem brighter.

  Looking at my guardians, I realized there was still one last thing—a last request I would see fulfilled before dawn broke over my palace and we were at war again.

  Rising from the chair where I sat between them, I turned to go back to my chambers, untying and discarding the robe covering my bare body as I went. I glanced back, finding the pair of them leaning over the arms of their chairs, wide-eyed. Perhaps a little confused.

  “Well?” I said, beckoning them forward with nothing but my haughty stare. A cool breeze whipped through the parlor, hardening my nipples and lifting the hair from my shoulders. “Are you coming, or not?”

  They shared a look before tripping over themselves in their haste to stand, straightening their jackets when they finally found their footing, eyes ablaze with hunger of a different sort.

  I reached out my hands to them. One for each. Alaric took my left, gasping as the strength of the desirous emotions coursing through me rushed into him. The insatiable need. He whipped his gaze back to meet mine, his brows pulling together.

  At first, I thought perhaps it was foolish—but as his expression changed to match mine, I chan
ged my mind. It wasn’t a foolish desire to want to lie with him one last time.

  I caught my bottom lip between my teeth. Worked to soothe the shiver of pleasure snaking down my spine. Reached out and took Tiernan’s hand in my right.

  He jolted as I allowed the emotions I felt to run through my fingertips and into him. And when the wave came crashing back, it was blended with his own desire—even wilder and stronger than my own.

  I gasped. Bit my lip.

  “I want you,” I said to Tiernan, whose gaze deepened, and his fevered breathing increased, “And you,” I said to Alaric, who shuddered as I ran my hand up the inside of his wrist, over the bulge of his bicep, bringing it up to rest gently against the pulse at his neck. “I want both of you… now—before…”

  “Don’t say it,” Tiernan ordered, his voice husky and commanding. He pulled me to him, crushed his lips against mine. I moaned loudly against his mouth, and he slipped his tongue between my teeth, coaxing another moan from somewhere deep in belly. My skin flushed, and my toes curled.

  A forceful tug on my other hand ripped me away from Tiernan, my already swollen lips meeting Alaric’s with a passion that stole the breath from my lungs.

  There came a loud groan and my eyes fluttered open to see Tiernan kicking the low table out of the way, leaving the plush rug beneath our feet bare. Alaric moved to kiss the corner of my mouth, my jawline, my neck. Down to my collarbone, and the place right above my breasts.

  Tiernan took hold of my wrists, binding them in his strong fingers. He lowered me to the floor and Alaric followed, settling over me when Tiernan jerked my clasped hands up high above my head and held them firmly in place. My sex wetted at the restraint and the anticipation. My back arched, and my body writhed, begging without the need for words to be touched.