Distant Light: An Urban Fantasy Reverse Harem (Tales From the Edge Book 1)

by Chloe Adler

  I pull my brows together, the pain she’s experiencing draping over me like a parachute. “Of course not. Please, I—“

  “Please, nothing. You’re only here because you want me to change your creature back.”

  I nod and hold my head up. “Please, Mother. He was only trying to help me.”

  She narrows her eyes at me and then at the dragon on my shoulder. Her anger slams into me harder than when the ground rushed up to meet my fall after the Trackers cut my silks last year. “It seems that he makes a better pet. A watchdog that can go everywhere with you and protect you. Why on earth should I change him back?”

  “Mother,” I clench my teeth, “he’s a police officer.”

  “So?” She snorts. “If he had been doing his job, he wouldn’t have been sniffing around my daughter.”

  “Mother, please. This isn’t about me.”

  “Yes, it is, Iphigenia. You,” she points at me, “made the decision to abandon me. All by yourself. Now you get to live with the consequences, just like I do.” I’ve felt this level of anger from her before but it was never directed at me. My throat tightens and I blink back tears.

  Thorn leaps off my shoulder, facing her, flapping his wings between us.

  “Your little pet is pushing his luck.” As soon as he opens his mouth to spit fire, she slams the door. In my face.

  I stand here, looking at the door, biting my lip, and blinking over and over, trying to get my emotions under control.

  Thorn squawks loudly, flying back to my shoulder, and Rhys’s arms snake around my waist.

  “I’m here, baby,” he whispers in my ear and I lean back into him, letting him support my weight. With a whoosh, Aurelia’s emotions leave me and for the first time in my life, they’re replaced by calm. Serenity. The buzzed oblivion I usually only reach a hundred feet in the air before a big crowd.

  I look up at Rhys and he smiles down at me, his dark eyes filled with admiration, though the Goddess knows why.

  We turn around to walk back to the car when my mother opens the front door again. I spin toward her, beaming. She’s had a change of mind after all!

  “You’ll probably need this when you move in with your new harem.” She throws my light-blue valise out of the house, aiming for the grass at least, where it lands with a thud. Her anger is obvious, even without my ability, but for the first time I can’t feel her. She’s feet away and seething at me but there’s nothing. Have I gone numb? But no, Rhys and Thorn are bundles of righteous anger at my side, though they, too, feel muted. Like something thick, heavy, and warm has draped my senses from head to foot.

  Rhys steps in front of me and Thorn spits a stream of fire from my shoulder, singeing a lock of Aurelia’s hair. She yelps, grabbing at the tress.

  “This is no way to treat your daughter,” Rhys growls. “She’s done nothing but put you first, even before herself.”

  “Your men talk for you, too, now? Fight your battles, with your own mother?”

  “My men,” I touch Rhys’s shoulder, and he steps to the side, still half blocking me, “care more about my well-being than you do. They also see me for who I truly am, not as some extension of themselves or who they want me to be. All I’ve ever wanted was for my sacrifices to be acknowledged. I didn’t even need you to praise me but really, Mom, are you truly incapable of being happy for your daughters when they find their own happiness?”

  “If this is your definition of happiness,” she motions to Rhys and Thorn, “then no, I can’t understand or support it.” She slams the door again and I freeze, waiting for the pain to roil through me. But it doesn’t.

  I take a deep breath, expelling it slowly, and blink my eyes to hold back the tears. They leak out anyway, hot and salty, staining my cheeks. But it’s not the messy cry of someone who wants their life back. Nor is it Aurelia’s reflected anger. My tears are hot with my anger, with determination. I’m crying for my mother, not for myself. And not for the emotions that usually pour from her, no, not this time. This time I’m crying for the mother that my sisters have always known, the one I made excuses for all of my life. The one who can’t be happy for her own daughters.

  Thorn flies off my shoulder, hovering in the air, and short, angry bursts of fire shoot from his mouth. The flames rival the burnt orange of a violent sunset.

  Rhys’s big arms wrap me up, turning me, and holding me close as he pets my hair. “I’ve got you,” he breathes into my hair, so strong and sure. And he does. They both do. The strength I need to move past this.

  I shudder despite the warm breeze blowing in off the ocean. I lean into him but the tears have stopped flowing.

  When someone is put on a pedestal, there’s only one way to go. This is what I get for giving my mother everything. For remaining home when everyone else left. For staying single and being the good daughter. I lost myself for her and it still wasn’t enough. It never would have been either. Mother has proven over and over again that when her daughters get their own lives, she washes her hands of them.

  So be it.

  I wrap my arms around Rhys and pull him in. For a real kiss. The one before was so quick it merely counts as a warm up. This one is all my choice. I’m making the move, here, in front of my mother’s house. In front of Thorn. No longer caring what they think. Everything I’ve experienced before that moment with him is lost in the wind. It whips my hair and pushes my body closer. His hands clutch at my back, his lips warm and wet. My mouth opens for his, my brain no longer in charge. His tongue darts out to explore me and I taste cloves, cardamom. Secrets. The forbidden apple.

  “Iphi,” he growls into my mouth.

  I run my tongue along a sharp fang and cry out when it nicks me.

  Pulling away, he holds my face in both his hands. “I’m sorry, did I hurt you?”

  “Drink,” I moan. “Here. Now. Please.” I want him to take me in front of my mother’s house. You think I’m a slut, Mama? You think I’m depraved? I’ll show you depraved. How about an inter-species orgy on the front lawn?

  “No, not like this,” he says, those liquid-brown eyes, melting and swirling before me.

  “You don’t want me?” I cry out, tossing my head to loosen his grip.

  “Of course I want you.” He cups my chin, lifting my head. He leans down, dusting my lips with his. “But not right here or right now.”

  He looks toward the house, and I follow his gaze. The drapes are swaying, the house dark. She was watching. Good. For the first time in my life, I feel strong. Not physically. I’ve been physically strong for years. No, this is a different kind of strength. The kind I always admired in Sadie and Burgundy. A strength of character. A backbone.

  Rhys bends down to collect my case and guides me to the car, holding my elbow. I let him. He escorts me in first, then lays my case carefully in the trunk.

  Leaning back against the upholstery, I close my eyes. When I open them again, we’re back at the Grove.

  “Is she okay?” Caspian’s voice sounds like he’s underwater. The car door opens, and someone touches my face, running their hand down one side and cradling my head. It lolls but I strain to find Rhys and meet Caspian’s gentle gaze instead. Does Rhys care that Caspian is touching me like this? Do I? Stop worrying about everyone else all the time, Iphigenia. These men can take care of themselves. Before I can say anything, my teeth start chattering. So cold. Numb. The edge of my vision darkens and I strain to stay conscious. Someone unhooks my seat belt and gathers me in their arms. Thorn hovers next to us, a blur.

  I’m barely aware of being lifted and carried into a house.

  “Don’t leave me alone,” I breathe into a man’s shoulder.

  “We’re not going anywhere.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Iphigenia

  The next morning I wake up in the loft bed with two men and a dragon. On one side of me is Caspian and on the other side is Rhys. They’re both wrapped around me almost as tightly as my silks.

  Thorn is curled up at the top of my head.
He wriggles in his sleep and a toasty puff of white smoke hits my face.

  All the contact and connection warms my heart. I’m wanted here.

  The door to the house opens and the smells of breakfast waft upstairs. Clanking dishes and pantry noises carry into the loft but the men around me are sleeping so I force myself to lie still.

  Several minutes later, Dominic’s head peeks over the loft rail and his eyes go wide. His nostrils flare. Then our gazes lock and his eyes narrow on me.

  Heat rushes to my face and I writhe, trying to toss the men’s bodies off my form.

  “Hey, stop spazzing,” says Rhys sleepily.

  “Get off, Dominic is here,” I hiss.

  Dom shakes his head, disappointment flashing in those teal eyes.

  “So what,” Caspian moans.

  Thorn jostles above my head, stands up, and stretches out his wings, then crawls toward Dominic.

  “I’m going to take Thorn out to relieve himself. Looks like three’s a crowd right now anyway.” Dom holds out his hand, Thorn jumps on it, and they climb back down the ladder.

  “It’s not what you think,” I gasp, my voice coming out strangled.

  The snick of the front door closing is my only answer.

  The men shift on either side of me, their eyes opening.

  “Was that Dominic?” asks Rhys.

  “Yup,” says Caspian.

  I stretch and shake my head. “I think he hates me.” I realize what I’ve just said a beat too late. No doubt my pink face gives me away.

  Caspian chuckles. “No, he probably just wishes he was up here with us.” His eyes blink open and his lips brush my flushed cheek.

  “Or instead of us.” Rhys’s fingers snake out to stroke my stomach in lazy circles. The affect is anything but. Little tendrils of flame trail in their wake.

  I suck in some air and hold it in my lungs. I don’t want him to stop but I’m feeling hesitant, too, with Caspian there and the way Dom reacted.

  Caspian leans over me, holding my gaze. Our eyes lock. “Is that all right?” he asks, tilting his head toward Rhys’s hand.

  I bite my lip and nod. Okay, wow, apparently Caspian has zero issues with this.

  “Do you want more?” His voice is so quiet I can barely hear him. He touches the side of my face, his fingers skimming over my cheeks, then into my hair.

  “Yes, please.” I have no idea what I’ve just agreed to but having both of them focus on me at once is a fantasy come true. One I didn’t even know I had before now, yet the mere idea of it sends little tingles down my spine.

  Rhys’s fingers trip higher and I suck in another breath, biting back a groan.

  “Do you like that?” Caspian growls, hovering over my face. His eyes are on Rhys’s hand and he licks his lips, transferring his gaze to my mouth.

  “Yes,” I hiss and reach my face toward his.

  Caspian leans down to kiss me, taking my mouth hungrily at the same time Rhys’s fingers reach my breasts.

  Oh, yes. Time to turn off my brain and let these two obviously competent men turn on my body.

  Rhys

  I pull the covers aside, far enough to expose her beautiful breasts, but conscious of her comfort, I keep a sheet over her lower half. Glancing back up at her, I marvel at the way her loose hair cascades over the pillow. It’s exactly the way I like it, unmitigated and free. She’s not hiding anything here with us. We’ve given her a safe place to be who she truly is, without having to wear any of her many disguises.

  I slide slower down the bed and straddle her knees, giving Caspian room to work. I trip my fingers over her torso, walking them toward her nipples. Caspian has claimed her mouth and I’m thankful he’s distracting her and pleasing her at the same time. Her arching urges me forward and I replace my fingers with my mouth, kissing softly. The woman is purring, which is all the encouragement I need.

  I press my mouth to the mounds of her breasts with more force, sucking on her soft skin in little love bites, and move a hand lower, under the covers, to cup her warm pussy. Another moan, but her legs close a little bit. That’s all right, I’ll wait until she’s comfortable. Instead, I reach both hands up to play with her breasts. Pressing her tit into my hand, I knead the tender skin and lick and tease one nipple, then the other. As I pull a nipple into my mouth, she relaxes her legs again and I trail my hand down to her pussy a second time, keeping it over the sheet. This time she lets me, pushing her entire body up and into me, moaning into Caspian’s mouth. I peek up, watching their mouths move, the way their tongues are intertwined. Caspian is holding the side of her face with one hand and his other is cradled under her neck.

  With Iphi everything is different and I’m still unpacking why exactly. Her naiveté plays a part. Her trust plays a larger one. Her vulnerability transcends both. I couldn’t have choreographed this moment any better and it’s happening organically. Caspian knows exactly how to transition with me.

  Pushing the heel of my palm into her makes her writhe, igniting my own cock. Her skin is burning up through the thin white sheet and I reach down to rub myself with my other hand. All the while I use my mouth to keep working on her tits, longing to suck and bite one of those hard, pink nipples. But I restrain myself. I’m not sure how she’ll react to biting; best to keep this round light. I flick a nipple with the tip of my tongue and she groans so I alternate between pressing into her clit and sucking her tit. She’s soaked through the sheet, which hardens me even more, my prick throbbing and tensing in my hand. When she writhes and squirms into my hand and my mouth, I bite back a groan of my own. This is exactly what I’ve been waiting to do to her.

  The need to taste her is strong but the last thing I want to do is rush her. Such a strong woman, yet also naive when it comes to sex, that much is obvious. It doesn’t mean she’s prudish, but it does mean I need to go slow and gentle. No matter how hard I want to take her. I inch my arm up the bed between her body and Caspian’s, feeling for my brother’s arm, and when I find it he lets me move his hand to her breasts. The man doesn’t miss a beat because her breath turns into pants and she writhes even more, bucking her chest and her groin up into both of us.

  Though I keep up the palm presses on her clit, I roll to the other side of her to watch her reactions to Caspian. His eyes open and meet mine. I move my gaze to her breasts and smile. Needing no further encouragement, he moves his face down to her tits and commences to lick and suckle her pert nips.

  She gurgles with pleasure and throws her head back, elongating that slender neck. Her mouth falls open but her eyes are squeezed shut. She’s practically panting with her arms splayed over her head and her thick masses of curls haphazardly spread out around her. The sight of her ecstasy brings my own release close but the last thing I want is to lose my load before we’ve satiated her.

  “Iphi.” I move up to her face, softly calling her name, and her eyes slowly open, trying to focus on my face. I lean down to take her mouth, sucking in her lower lip and gently biting it. Her tongue darts between my lips, looking for mine, and when they meet, my heart ignites like a freshly struck match.

  Her musky scent grows even through the thin cover, overwhelming in its intoxication. I know Caspian can smell her, too, because he groans. I move my hand to his shoulder, clutching it and pulling him up toward her head. We abandon our tasks at the same moment, him moving from her tits back to her mouth while I move down to her muscular stomach. I peek up and watch him plant light kisses along her cheeks and eyelids. His hand follows along one of her arms until he intertwines his fingers with hers. His eyes flicker open and I shift my gaze to her pussy. He gives me a quick nod, licking his lips and then focuses on her mouth, moving to cover it with his.

  Her legs quiver under the sheets, beckoning me, and still I move slowly. I drop kisses on her abdomen and trail my fingers under the covers, tracing the insides of her thighs. She raises her hips up, a clear signal, and I circle her waist with my hands and clutch her close. Pressing my face against her sex through the
covers, I breathe her in. Pure ambrosia. I flatten my body on the bed to roll my raging hard-on between my stomach and the mattress.

  Iphigenia

  Rhys’s face presses hard between my legs, breathing me in and I bite my tongue to keep from yelping.

  When the cover disappears over me, I practically leap out of the loft. Then Caspian’s tongue pushes between my lips, stilling me. Rhys turns his head to the left and right, growling or maybe humming into my sex. The vibrations carry me further up the steep precipice of arousal.

  I turn my head sideways, breaking Caspian’s kiss, and try to slide away. “I need a shower,” I groan.

  “I want you this way, please,” Rhys purrs from between my legs, taking another deep breath and holding me still. “You’re divine and I need breakfast.”

  I want to complain, tell him all the reasons why he shouldn’t and clamp my legs closed but the sensations rocket through me with such force that my body simmers with overwhelming need. Hot lust courses through my veins and when Caspian covers my mouth again, I open for him, for them both as Rhys moves under the covers. The lion shifter dives in with his velvet tongue and then pulls back out to lick the corners of my mouth, alternating between soft pecks and insistent plunges.

  Rhys blows on my heated sex and I squirm. Holding my thighs in place, he licks my pulsing bud. I’ve never had oral sex before but I’ve always wondered and now I know what I’ve been missing. The one sloppy attempt at intercourse a couple of years ago is wiped from my mind. This is completely different. My heart swells. My heated body tingles and I shiver, pressing my mound up and into Rhys’s mouth, where he sucks and licks.

  It’s like the men know just what I need and I don’t have the time right now to unpack the fact that I want them both, equally. And not just in the bedroom, but outside of it, too. And not just them. Why did seeing Dominic so upset affect me as well? Am I falling for him, too, in a different way?