Elemental Fae Academy: Book Three: A Reverse Harem Paranormal Romance

by Lexi C. Foss

  “Claire calls it bacon,” Vox added.

  Exos just stared at him. “You told her this was bacon?”

  “Because it is bacon,” Vox replied through his teeth. “Eat it, Spirit King. Claire made it.”

  Cyrus burst out laughing, his amusement a heavy wave of entertainment. “I’m not touching that,” he said between chuckles. “I love you, little queen, I do, but it’s not happening.”

  “Then I’ll eat it,” Sol replied, taking all of the dragonsteak for himself.

  “You would.” Cyrus wiped tears from his eyes.

  “I don’t understand why this is so funny,” I said, glancing between them all. Even Titus seemed amused. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  Exos appeared to be the only sober one in the room, his gaze kind as he said, “That’s not bacon, princess. It’s troll fat.”

  Another round of laughter ripped from Cyrus’s mouth. Titus joined him.

  Vox just looked defeated. “You’re both assholes,” he hissed, the words directed at Exos and Cyrus.

  “I’m not the one who told her troll fat was bacon,” Exos drawled. “That’s on you.”

  “River promised me it was the same thing. And it’s not even that bad, as long as you don’t think about it.”

  “Troll fat?” I repeated, still catching up with Exos’s statement. “I’ve been cooking troll fat?” No, not just cooking it. Eating it. “Oh God…” I was going to be sick.

  Titus caught me around the middle before I could run from the room, his lips against my neck. “Trolls look like pigs, sweetheart. They’re gross little things that roll around in mud. Same kind of meat, just a different species.”

  “Gross,” I muttered, cringing.

  “Now you see why we won’t be touching that,” Cyrus mused, taking one of the sandwiches instead.

  “I like it,” Sol said, on his second helping of food. “You all are seriously missing out.”

  “I’m sorry, Claire.” Vox hung his head. “I couldn’t get you bacon, so I improvised.”

  “And gave me troll fat,” I translated. “Which I wrapped around dragonsteak. For Christmas dinner.” I blinked a few times and then burst out laughing at the absurdity of it all. Welcome to the fae world, where nothing matched human reality. Like my sad Christmas tree.

  I giggled and shook my head, wiping tears from my eyes.

  “Now I can’t wait for you all to open your presents. It’ll be one joke after another.” Especially since Vox’s grandfather helped me. For all I knew, I’d actually be giving them fertility gifts.

  I laughed again, my stomach hurting from the effort.

  But the men had sobered, their attention falling to the boxes beneath the tree.

  I waved them on, too humored to help at this point.

  Vox did the honors of distributing the boxes. Which they all praised for being beautiful. When I told them they actually had to unwrap them, they all started laughing right along with me.

  Wow, we came from different lands.

  Yet somehow that made this Festivus all the more unique and special, because they were teaching me about their traditions while I showed them my own. It didn’t escape my notice that had my mother actually been around while I was a child, my experience would have been completely different today.

  For one, I wouldn’t have put fertility leaves on a tree.

  I also would have known it was troll fat, not bacon.

  Still, I wouldn’t have changed any of my mates’ reactions for the world. Vox’s excitement at unwrapping his new fae flute—an item his grandfather had recommended—would stay with me forever. Same with Sol’s genuine pleasure over the seeds I’d created of all the fruit trees from back home.

  Titus loved the bo staff I’d created for him using my earth skills. I’d melded it with fire and water, ensuring it would last more than a few practice sessions beneath the weight of his hot power.

  “Can I slap Cyrus with it?” he asked. “Give it a good test run?”

  “No,” my Water Fae said with finality. He palmed his own gift—a ring forged from my elements. I’d created an identical one for Exos as well, which he had already slipped onto his finger.

  Eventually, I would make ones for Sol, Titus, and Vox. When our matings were complete.

  “Humans wear symbolic bands to indicate their relationship status.” My cheeks heated, uncertainty swirling in my thoughts. “I mean, I don’t know if it’s really like marriage here, but I’m mate-bonded to the two of you on the deepest level and, soon, hopefully, to all of you. I just… I want to show that to the world, somehow.” I shrugged. “Maybe it’s silly.”

  Cyrus wrapped me in his arms and kissed me. “It’s not silly, little queen. It’s heartfelt and true.”

  Exos agreed with a smile, then glanced at the others. “We should make a gift, too.”

  “What did you have in mind?” Titus asked, arching an auburn brow.

  “She says a ring symbolizes love,” Exos murmured. “How is metal made?”

  “By joining the elements,” I said, my head against Cyrus’s chest. “Or that’s how I did it, anyway.” It took some serious effort and a lot of trial and error, but I finally figured it out.

  “On it,” Titus said, his hand glowing as he held out his palm.

  “Here,” Cyrus murmured, triggering a mist that joined Titus’s element.

  Vox’s hair began to blow as he focused on the whirl of magic, and the foundation of the room rumbled as Sol engaged his own element.

  Exos grinned and held his palm over Titus’s, then slowly closed the gap between them.

  If it hurt, they didn’t show it. Instead, they all seemed to be enjoying themselves, their magic mixing and blending until they released it all at once, leaving me winded in their wake.

  And then Titus revealed what they’d created—a tiny ring glimmering with all the colors of the elements.

  Much fancier than the ones I’d crafted.

  “I need to up my game,” I marveled as Exos plucked the item from Titus’s palm.

  My Spirit Fae grinned, holding the item out for my review. “Here’s a piece of all of us, Claire. Just for you.”

  “Always for you,” Cyrus whispered, his lips against my ear.

  With tears in my eyes, I slipped it over my finger and smiled. “It’s perfect.”

  “Merry Christmas,” Exos mused.

  “Merry Christmas,” the others echoed.

  Peace slid over me, making me feel at home and alive all at once. “Happy Festivus,” I replied.

  This was the way life should be.

  Happy, loving, filled with joyful moments.

  But deep down I knew this would be short-lived, could feel a darkness calling for my attention. Yet I shoved it away, promising to acknowledge it another day.

  Because something was coming.

  I could feel it in every fiber of my being, and the look Exos gave me over the cheerfulness in the room told me he felt it, too.

  Exos

  A soft cry stirred me from my rest.

  Claire.

  I sat up, searching for her in our makeshift sleeping quarters. She lay absolutely still between Vox and Sol, her eyes closed and her little hands curled into her chest.

  Then she whimpered again, not out loud, but into my mind.

  A bad dream, I realized, creeping over to her.

  Cyrus stepped into the room with an arched brow, my brother having chosen to stand guard for the night while everyone else rested. We agreed to alternate evenings. The Air Kingdom might be safe, but something lurked on the horizon. Claire’s other mates couldn’t feel it, their lack of a connection to spirit impeding their ability to sense the darkness looming over all of us.

  A tear leaked from the corner of Claire’s eye, her expression otherwise soft.

  I gently clasped her ankle, searching for a connection to her mind and found the source of her pain.

  Ophelia.

  She stood alone in a cold cell, shivering and mouthing unin
telligible words to Claire.

  I frowned at the apparition, trying to discern dream from reality when those cruel eyes locked on me and narrowed.

  Reality, I decided, closing my eyes to focus on falling into Claire’s mind...

  “You don’t belong here,” Ophelia said, her voice sharp and cold and reminding me of our stark surroundings. Wherever she’d taken Claire, it was icy and unwelcoming.

  “I could say the same to you,” I replied, cocking my head. “What are doing to my mate, Ophelia?”

  Her eyebrows lifted. “Mate?”

  “Don’t play coy. You know what Claire means to me and can sense our bond. What is it you want, Ophelia?” I demanded.

  She blinked at me, the action slow and deliberate. I glanced around the cell, noting the rotting bars and moldy stones. Somewhere with water, which made sense. Ophelia was a Spirit Fae with access to the water element.

  But why would she choose this as her desired meeting location?

  “Where’s Claire?” I asked, searching for the source of whimpering I still sensed in my mind.

  “She’s fine,” Ophelia said. “It was you I wanted to talk to.”

  I arched a brow. “Interesting. I thought I didn’t belong here.”

  “You don’t. Or I thought you didn’t.” She shook her head, a hint of madness lurking in her expression.

  She resembled a much older, far more tired Claire. Something that shouldn’t be possible on a fae so young. It appeared as if someone had siphoned all her beauty and youth from her, leaving her frail and gaunt.

  “Why am I here, Ophelia?” I prompted, drawing her focus back to me and away from whatever thought had captured her mind.

  “You care… about my Claire?” she asked, sounding uncertain.

  “She’s my mate.”

  “Not just a ruse?” Her head tilted in an eerie way. “She says you’re using Claire for power. But I don’t sense deceit.”

  “She who?” I wondered.

  “You know who,” Ophelia replied cryptically. “She’s orchestrated all of this, you know. I never should have listened to her. I thought… I thought she would leave me be. Freedom is a dream, young king. She lied.”

  “Who lied?” What started as a coherent conversation had melted into confusion.

  “She did,” Ophelia murmured, her voice taking on a dreamy quality. “Part Dark Fae. Part Spirit. She’s using my Claire. You’ll see. You’ll all see soon.” She began to hum a broken song, the sound hauntingly beautiful. “She’s coming. I need more—”

  A harsh zap had me grabbing my head and stumbling backward, the dark cloud in my mind sucking energy from me on a gush of sound that brought me to my knees.

  Cyrus’s voice rose above the chaos, his hands on my shoulders as he blasted me with his water element and knocked the leech loose from my spirit.

  “Fuck!” someone shouted.

  But I was too busy reeling beneath the unexpected attack.

  The bitch had tried to siphon spirit off me, using me to connect to the source.

  I gripped my hair, ready to pull it from my head when I heard Claire screaming from the bed. It snapped me out of the last vestiges of my dream state and sent me flying toward her, only to see her gazing upward with tear-ridden eyes. She grabbed me by the shoulders and yanked me onto the mattress, her arms weaving around my neck. “I thought… I thought…” She hiccupped, her voice in hysterics, her body trembling beneath mine. “I thought she took you from me…”

  “I’m right here, princess,” I whispered, meeting Cyrus’s furious stare. “I’m fine.”

  “You’re a fucking idiot is what you are,” my brother seethed. “You let that thing in your head again!”

  “She was in Claire first,” I argued. “Better she latch onto me than her.”

  Claire shook her head. “No. No. No. She wasn’t hurting me. She was trying to tell me something… something about Elana. But she had to go, and borrowed energy so she can come back.”

  Vox and Sol gaped at Claire. Titus, too. In fact, we were all gaping at her.

  “How do you know that?” I asked, my voice a rasp of sound.

  “She told me,” Claire said. “She whispered an apology right before she latched on, saying she needed the strength to make a future connection.”

  I just stared at her.

  “Does she often visit your dreams?” Cyrus asked, his voice a lethal calm that I recognized.

  Claire shook her head. “This is the first time.”

  The tension radiating from my brother seemed to dissipate a fraction. “If she’s reaching out on the spirit planes, then she’s growing in strength,” he muttered.

  “She was in a cell,” I said, frowning. “Not the spirit planes.”

  “What’s the difference?” Vox asked, his fingers running through Claire’s hair.

  She hadn’t yet released my neck, so I shifted with her in my arms, sitting up and cradling her in my lap. Claire buried her face against my throat, her face wet with tears. “Spirit Fae can access the spirit planes. It’s where we pull life and death. But Ophelia created an entire background for her visit, suggesting she might have taken us to a real place.”

  “A cell,” Claire whispered. “She’s being held there.”

  “How do you know?” I wondered out loud.

  “I just do,” she replied, shivering. “It was so cold there, Exos. So… dead.”

  I met Cyrus’s gaze again. “It reminded me of the death fields, only slightly more lively.”

  He shook his head. “This is insane. You’re saying Ophelia dream-walked and took you to a cell, to what? Share stories? Warn you?”

  “She wanted to test Exos,” Claire breathed. “She doesn’t trust him.”

  “Yeah, well, the feeling is quite mutual,” Cyrus assured.

  He wasn’t wrong, so I didn’t comment. Instead, I palmed Claire’s cheek and pressed my lips to hers. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded. “She didn’t touch me, but I felt her siphoning energy from you. I… It scared me.”

  I nodded, understanding, and pulled her against me once more. “I’m all right, baby.”

  “What does she want?” Sol asked. He’d moved up to lean against the headboard, his bare chest on display for the room. “What’s her goal? Why does she need to trust Exos?”

  “She seemed to be worried about my intentions with Claire,” I replied, my brow furrowing. “Honestly, it didn’t make a lot of sense. She kept talking about a Dark Fae, or someone who was part Dark Fae.”

  “Part Dark Fae?” Cyrus repeated. “That’s… not a thing.”

  No, it most definitely wasn’t. Elemental Fae did not mate with Dark Fae, or any other kind of fae for that matter. We stuck to our own kind for a reason. To do otherwise would tip the balance of power. “We need to talk to her again.”

  Cyrus’s expression conveyed his response before it left his mouth. “Absolutely fucking not.”

  “I wasn’t asking permission, Your Highness,” I replied. “Oh, wait… I’m king now.”

  His ice-blue eyes narrowed. “Don’t be a conceited dick.”

  “Pot, meet kettle,” I tossed back at him. Similar to spirit, meet element, but I preferred the human phrase because it sounded ridiculous. It also irritated Cyrus. Win-win.

  “You two are like twins,” Titus marveled, pulling on a pair of sweatpants. “Claire, sweetheart, what do you want to do?”

  “I want to talk to her again,” she said without hesitation.

  “Then there we go,” Titus said, waving at her. “You two might be kings, or whatever the hell you are right now, but she’s our queen.”

  “I agree,” Sol put in.

  “Me, too,” Vox murmured.

  Cyrus shook his head. “You’re all playing with fire.”

  Titus’s palm blazed to life as he grinned. “And what fun it is, Water Prince.”

  My brother snorted and doused the flame with a spray of mist. “Fine, I can see my intelligence is outnumbered here. So how
do we go about talking to her again?”

  “I have an idea,” I admitted. “But it’ll take me a few days to get it worked out. In the interim, bolster Claire’s elements. She’s going to need them.”

  It took effort to convince Claire to fall back asleep, but it was the middle of the night and she needed rest. Especially for the festivities to come. The fae did not play around during the Festivus season. There would be a bonfire, dancing, and endless nights of drinking ahead. Which would hopefully help her relax, at least a little.

  Although, she seemed rather content in the bed with Sol, Vox, and Titus.

  Those three certainly knew how to wear out our mate.

  With a small grin, I stepped into the hallway where Cyrus stood waiting.

  “Have you lost your fucking mind?” he demanded, his irritation coming through just fine despite his low whisper.

  “I don’t think Ophelia is a threat,” I admitted. “She seemed a bit insane, but not in a cruel way. There was no darkness in her aura, just a hint of desperation that escalated when she latched onto my power. Like she’s been starved and needed my energy to survive.”

  Cyrus narrowed his gaze. “Go on.”

  Those two words showed how well he knew me. I never stopped analyzing and theorizing, something he was guilty of as well.

  I palmed the back of my neck, blowing out a breath. “If someone’s kept her locked up all these years, then that could explain why she latched onto Claire in the death fields. She would have been so hungry for spirit that she’d have done anything to absorb it. Including attack her own daughter. Which explains the energy depletion on Claire’s part.”

  My brother considered my words and stroked the stubble dotting his chin. “That would also explain why she tried to go through your bond to get to her.”

  “They’re related by blood. That links their spirits.”

  He nodded, then frowned. “But why starve Ophelia?”

  “To feed off her own power?” I suggested. “She looked ill, Cyrus. Like a thousand-year-old fae, if not older. When she’s, what, maybe fifty years in total? Not even?” I shook my head. “Something isn’t adding up here.”

  “That something seems to point to Elana,” he added.