Falling For Them Volume 2: Reverse Harem Collection

by Nikki Bolvair

  Jameson steps forward with my coat in his hands. “Ready to go?”

  “Yes.” Nerves flutter in my stomach as I slip my arms through the sleeves and let him settle the thick wool over my shoulders.

  Outside, darkness still shrouds the street, and fog swirls within the glow of the lampposts. Quietness fills the town, most people still asleep in their beds. The walk down to the docks is strangely silent. It seems I’m not the only one overcome with anxiety.

  Along the way, flickers of blue and purple catch in my peripheral vision, but I refuse to turn and look. If the wisps are following our fateful walk, let them. They’ve already brought me to my heart’s desire. They can do us no harm.

  The Ferris wheel’s quiet creaks fill the morning air as we near the docks, the giant wheel slowly rotating despite it being turned off for the night. The businesses down here all lay dark, their lights shut off and the seats from the outside patios pulled in to protect them from the weather.

  We turn right and head farther down the dock, to a row of old businesses that are mostly shut down for the winter. A red door glows out of the fog, beckoning us forward.

  Davin releases his tight grip on my hand to hurry toward it and push the door open. Beyond, old wall sconces flicker playfully over the patterned carpet, leading to another door at the end of the long hall. Light shines from beneath it, welcoming and warm.

  Nervous, I glance back at Hughe, and he swallows hard before his gaze catches mine. He reaches forward to grab my hand. Davin, his steps eager, reaches the end of the hall first, and he bounces on his toes with impatience, hand lifted and ready to knock as soon as we reach him.

  Jameson grabs my other hand, his fingers threading through mine.

  Before Davin’s knuckles can touch the door, it swings inward. A large, bald man blocks our way. Clothed in a black robe, the only spot of brightness on him comes from a pin at his belt. It depicts a needle crossed with a pair of scissors, the symbol of the Thread Reader.

  Black eyes narrow on us. “Siobhan McKathry, Devin O’Brien, Hughe O’Brien, and Jameson O’Brien?”

  “Yes, sir,” we murmur as one.

  “Identification, please.”

  I pat my pockets in sudden panic. Did I remember my wallet? I hadn’t even considered that when I got ready.

  Davin grins and pulls all of our ID cards from his coat pocket and passes them to the man. He studies them each for a long moment before grunting and passing them back.

  Without another word, the guard, because that’s what he has to be, steps aside to allow us to enter.

  Gold paint covers the walls, and a crystal chandelier hangs over a small, round table in the center of the room. On the right, a red curtain covers the wall. But what draws our attention is the figure who stands in front of it.

  Clothed from head to toe in a red robe, a gold coin mask covers the Thread Reader’s face. With the style of their clothes, it’s impossible to tell if the person is a man or a woman, but the figure is tall, taller than the triplets.

  “Welcome,” whispers a multi-toned voice, both female and male, both young and old. “You have come to find the path of your thread?”

  “Yes.” Again, we all speak in unison

  “Come, then.” The Thread Reader beckons us forward.

  Glancing at each other, we file around the table to stand in front of them.

  “Are you prepared for the outcome, whatever it may be?” The Thread Reader’s head tilts, gold coins clinking. “Knowing your fate does not always bring happiness.”

  I link my hands with Jameson and Hughe, and Davin’s hand settles on my shoulder. “We’re ready.”

  The Thread Reader’s voice warms as he takes a step forward, “I’d say more than ready.”

  They lean forward, and the Thread Reader’s left hand scoops through the air, fingers curling as if around a rope. My left arm becomes heavy, like it did that day in the Traveler’s wagon when the little boy circled us, and a feeling of rightness swirls through me. Glancing down, I see a glowing red thread winding around my left forearm, thick and twisting until it splits at my wrist into three ribbons that loop through the air to bind me to each of the triplets.

  My heart pounds, and the thread pulses in time to it, becoming brighter until the room disappears. For the briefest of moments, I see the happiness of this lifetime, and the bright futures we’ll have together in the next.

  Something heavy settles against my chest, and I blink, the room coming back into focus. The Thread Reader steps back, hands clasped together. “Thread Maker’s blessing on you.”

  I glance down at the gold coin that hangs from a red ribbon around my neck, then up to see that the triplets now wear identical coins.

  Deep happiness floods through me at the sight. Whatever path we had to walk to get to this point was worth it to know that I’m tied to them, and they’re tied to me, exactly as we were always meant to be.

  About the Author

  Lyn Forester graduated with a Bachelor in English and an Associates in Graphic Design. She worked in the graphic design industry for ten years before deciding to pursue her other life long dream of becoming a writer. She grew up reading mostly fantasy books, though later in life found a love of urban fantasy and science fiction. She currently works from her home in Washington State where she squeezes in writing time around a busy schedule. When not working, she can be found experimenting with new recipes, reading, or playing video games and the occasional board game.

  She loves talking to other readers. For recommendations, check out her Goodreads account and she’d love to hear from you on Facebook, Twitter, or via email.

  DRAKEN GENESIS

  Draken Genesis

  Draken United Prequel

  K Swanson

  In a world where having any kind of magic is considered a death sentence, Eric, James, and Adrian find out they aren’t your average, every day mortals. With their father forced to stay away, Eric was left to raise his brothers after his mother’s passing.

  Rhea, an orphan girl, was handpicked by the god himself to watch over his boys. She was given the tools and training she would need to keep them safe. After years of watching over them, fate could not be denied. The boys needed her help, and Rhea was the only one with any hope of saving them.

  Together, the four of them travel away from the only home the boys have ever known, overcome dangers unheard of in their time, and face off against a corrupt king.

  Wary of strangers, can the boys trust Rhea to help save them?

  DRAKEN GENESIS

  COVEY PUBLISHING, LLC

  Published by Covey Publishing, LLC

  PO Box 550219, Gastonia, NC 28055-0219

  Copyright © 2017 by K Swanson

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the writer, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Cover Design Copyright © 2017 Covey

  Book Design by Covey, www.coveypublishing.com

  Copy Editing by Covey Publishing, LLC

  Printed in the United States of America.

  First Printing, 2017

  Also By HK Khan

  Draken United Series

  Draken Genesis

  Drake Storm (Coming Soon)

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Ch
apter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  Tales Mother Told

  “Boys?”

  Their mother stepped into the room, barely big enough for the bed and a small rocking chair. The dark wooden walls made the room seem even smaller. The dirt floor muffled her footsteps as she moved closer, and Eric squirmed next to the twins with anticipation. They huddled closer together, making the bed shift slightly as they gave her room to sit down.

  “What will the story be tonight, Mama?” James asked. Adrian curled up against his twin to keep warm.

  “Tonight…” She caught her bottom lip with her teeth, eyes distant while her mind worked. “Tonight, Papa was a,” she paused, leaning closer to whisper, “dreadful pirate.”

  She shook her blond strands away from her face as she relaxed back on the bed, closing her pale green eyes. Adrian sat up, worried. “You aren’t going to sleep now, are you?”

  “No, baby. Mama needed a moment to figure out how to tell the story.” Sitting up, eyes sparkling with mischief, she began. “Long ago, out on the rough sea, a man stood on the bow of his boat—”

  “Mama, not a boat, a ship. We learned about ships from Mr. Kenton last week at school!” Adrian sat up, bouncing with excitement. The twins talked about pirates all week. It drove Eric crazy. Who cared about some dumb old men on boats anyways?

  Running her fingers through his blond curls, Mama chuckled. “Lie back down, little one.” As soon as the twins settled back down, she continued, “A man stood on his ship. His hair dark, like Eric’s.”

  When she tousled his hair as she’d done with the twins, and he swatted her hand away. At eight, he thought himself too old for fairy tales. Didn’t she see he was nearly a man, now!

  With a smirk at his reaction, she continued, “And he had bright-blue eyes, like yours.” She tapped James lightly on his nose. “He was a dashing man, tall, with broad shoulders.” She smiled at his memory, as she always did when describing their father.

  “Mama?” James tugged on her nightshirt, drawing her attention to him.

  “Yes, Jamie?” She wiped a smudge of dirt from his chin.

  “Will we be dashing when we grow up?”

  Her smile grew as she nodded. “Oh, most definitely. The three of you will be the most dashing men in the world.” Eric couldn’t help but roll his eyes. He had no aspirations about being the most dashing man, and he didn’t plan on getting married or anything. Girls were gross.

  Huffing, he crossed his arms over his chest. “What about the story, Mama?” He knew Mama made these stories up, but she and the twins liked to believe he loved these tales as much as they did. No matter how many stories Mama told them, they were never about their real father. If the stories were only fairy tales, why should he care about them?

  She smiled at him, then at the twins. “Of course, Eric. Your father, a great man who commanded an entire fleet of ships, had lead them to new lands to pillage—”

  This time Adrian interrupted her. “What does pillage mean, Mama?”

  Rolling his eyes, Eric turned over, pulling the quilt up to his chin.

  “It means they took stuff they shouldn’t,” she answered patiently.

  Before she could continue her story, James jumped in. “That’s bad! How was he a great man if he did bad things?”

  “Shush!” Eric glared at the twins.

  “Eric, your brothers are curious.” Their mother patted his shoulder, and he suppressed the urge to shrug her hand away.

  He drew in a breath, not wanting to make Mama upset. “You’re right. Sorry, Mama.” As the man of the house, he needed to remember his job to keep everyone safe and happy included his brothers.

  “You’re a good boy, Eric.” Beaming at him, he couldn’t stop a small return smile from slipping over his lips. He wanted to please her. “Shall we continue with our story about Father’s adventures today?”

  The twins nodded, Adrian bouncing in place.

  “Your father didn’t actually pillage. He commanded his ship, and he showed kindness to those who needed it.”

  She gave a brief pause, smiling as Adrian spoke up. “Don’t you mean a captain, Mama?”

  “Yes, your father captained his ship. He didn’t steal from good people. Villagers feared him because they assumed he would steal and kill. Instead, he was a pirate for hire, easily making more than he would ever need. He gave the excess money to those less fortunate.”

  His eyes drooped as he glanced at the twins, but he wouldn’t fall asleep before they did. They were still practically babies, after all, while he was the man of the house.

  James drifted off as Mama lightly stroked his blond curls, relaxing him completely. Adrian’s eyes drifted closed, and Mama’s voice became a soft drone, lulling Eric to sleep.

  ~

  As the year passed, the twins continued to enjoy the weekly fairytale adventures of their father. Eric merely humored them, and Mama, by encouraging the tales. He didn’t need Mama to know he wished for Papa’s real story. Eric could understand and possibly even forgive their father for leaving him. But he couldn’t forgive Papa for leaving Mama to raise three young kids alone, and for leaving the twins without a father figure. Eric had started to step up and fill the role since Mama had started to get sick in the last few months. He needed to be the best role model possible.

  As Mama came into the room, the three boys settled onto the bed. The twins scooted closer to Eric as she sat down. “Which tale shall it be tonight, boys?”

  Adrian and James whispered together before announcing, “Could you tell us about the dashing knight, Mama?” They always spoke at the same time. Sometimes Eric wished he had been born with them so he didn’t have the sensation of being an outsider.

  “Alright with you?” Their mother turned to him, brows raised in question.

  “Yeah, whatever.” Her eyes dimmed slightly. Guilt made him want to throw his arms around her in apology. Though he couldn’t make himself do it. Instead, he remained lying down, curled up with his pillow.

  After a brief hesitation, “The dashing knight it is.”

  James squirmed around, catching Eric in the ribs with his knee. “Oomph. Watch it!”

  “Sorry, Eric.” His brow furrowed and concern showed in his eyes.

  Swallowing his irritation, Eric replied, “It’s fine, Jamie.”

  James beamed at him, snuggling up. His eyes drifted closed before Mama actually started her story. “There once lived a dashing man…”

  It didn’t take long for the twins to fall asleep to the soothing sounds of her voice. Eric faked sleep hoping Mama would seek out her bed.

  “Goodnight, my loves.” Stooping down, she dropped a kiss to each of their foreheads. She yawned and stretched as she headed for the living area.

  Quiet as a mouse, Eric slid out of bed, tiptoeing across the cold floor to make sure she would make it to bed okay. Stopping when he saw she leaned wearily against one of the walls, gaze on the ceiling. Creeping closer, he listened to her speaking.

  “Oh, Oregaine, I hope you can see what fine young men our sons are turning out to be. I wish you could be here with us. I won’t regret having the boys, even if it meant you would be taken from me, but I do miss you. I love you, Oregaine.” She moved to the make-shift bed on the floor, curling into a blanket.

  Oregaine? Their father’s name was Oregaine? Could they be the reason papa went away? Did he not want them? How could Mama still miss him if he didn’t even want them? He rubbed his eyes, hurrying back to bed. He didn’t want to be caught, in case Mama got back up to check on them.

  As the next year passed, and Mother’s health declined drastically. Eric found himself becoming bitter listening to these tales. Even now, as their mother lay still and pale against her worn quilt, she still spoke of fables. “If you believe hard enough, you can bring any deity you want to you. A god or goddess of your choice.”

&n
bsp; Eric blinked, snorting in disbelief at the twins. They could bring a god from the heavens? How, when their calling wasn’t as clerics or priests? They only possessed a small amount of magic, and they weren’t adults yet. What sort of gods or goddesses would listen to them?

  Coughing once, Mama breathed shallowly through her nose. “It’s true, my little men. I want you to come up with a good deity to call down. One who can take my place when I can no longer be here.” Brow crinkled with worry, her pale skin nearly translucent, clung to her bones. Her stringy blond hair appeared dry and brittle.

  James shook his head in denial. Eric silently agreed with him. Their father already abandoned them, and the little voice inside of him worried that Mama would desert them as well. They would be left all alone, without anyone but each other. No matter how grown up he was, having just celebrated his eleventh birthday, Eric didn’t know anything about caring for his eight-year-old brothers.

  “Gather closer, boys. Let me tell you a tale.” Mama coughed again, her voice weaker. Adrian sat on his knees, his blond hair a mess. His blue eyes widened with excitement and worry. Mama hadn’t told them a story in a good long while.

  “A good story, Mama?” James asked, scooting closer. His blond curls and blue eyes an exact replica of Adrian.

  “Yes, a good one.” She pulled the twins in tight, dropping a kiss to each of their brows. “In this tale, I will tell you about your Papa.” Eric couldn’t help wrinkling his nose. He could tell her they didn’t need to know anything about the bastard, but the sickness was so strong in her… Mama continued, oblivious to his revulsion. “I know, I never talked about him, but you need to know the truth.” She wheezed, and Eric ran to the pail of water sitting on the mantle, bringing back a small glass for her to sip on.