A Reverse Harem Romance Collection Box Set

by Lane Hart

  “Do you ever get to leave?” I ask as we sit perched on a giant boulder in the middle of the woods. Rowan has a gruff voice that makes him sound tough which goes right along with his broad shoulders that are wider than most professional football players. But I’m not scared of him. If anything, I feel safe sitting next to him for the first time since I stepped foot in this place.

  “Only for special occasions and with prior approval.”

  “What about Drake? He was out in the city riding his bike!”

  “There aren’t very many vampires, and they have a little more freedom as long as they agree to not drink from humans and only from the blood supply the masters give them. They can’t reproduce; and it’s a lot of trouble to turn someone, so they can’t do much damage in public. Besides, it’s not like the masters could really stop them from leaving. They have to abide by the rules here until the masters grant them permission to live on their own.”

  “How does someone become a vampire?” I ask, wanting to know everything I can.

  “Basically, the vampire has to drain a human nearly to death and then give them almost all of his blood to revive them. So, he needs a lot of blood bags on hand, ready to refuel himself before he croaks,” Rowan explains.

  “So why can’t you leave?”

  “The change can happen if a shifter gets angry even before the full moon. Since humans aren’t the nicest species, it doesn’t take much to push us over the edge. When we’re in animal form, we can bite someone and turn them. So, by keeping most of the males here, they limit the chance of that happening. Most of us are born, not made. And warlocks and vampires can’t be turned into shifters.”

  “Oh,” I say, thinking maybe that is best for humans even though it sucks for shifters. Moving on to my next line of questions, I ask, “So Kingston is Voss’s son, right?”

  “Yes. Whenever Voss decides to retire, Kingston will take over as the head coven master.”

  “So, he’ll be in charge?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’ll make things better, right? I mean, he seems sort of nice.” Maybe, if I could just endure this place until his dad retires and become friends with him, Kingston will agree to let me leave.

  “Don’t be fooled. He’s still his father’s son and will do whatever it takes to save the warlocks and the other supernaturals.”

  Whatever question I was going to ask next falls away thanks to the bright red light that suddenly starts blinking from my neck.

  “They’re tracking you,” Rowan explains. “You better get back to the house.”

  “I’m not ready to leave. I like talking to you,” I tell him.

  “You’ve been through a lot tonight and could probably use a good night’s sleep to try and wrap your head around it all.”

  “Will you be out here tomorrow night?” I ask.

  “Every night, rain or shine, except for the full moon,” he says sadly.

  “Then I’ll come back tomorrow,” I tell him when I throw my arms around him.

  “Looking forward to it, darlin’,” Rowan replies while hugging me back. He pulls away and adds, “Go on now. And try to have sweet dreams.”

  “You too,” I say before I climb off the boulder and trudge back to the house, the interior lights shining in the darkness.

  I see a few kids younger than me sitting on sofas in the living room as I make my way up the stairs to the second floor. And just as I start to turn the doorknob to my new room, a voice behind me says, “You came back.”

  I turn around and find Kingston coming down the hallway.

  “It’s not like I really had a choice, did I?” I ask while clutching the plastic collar at my throat.

  “Where did you go?” he asks.

  “For a walk. You said that was fine,” I remind him.

  “Yeah, sure. Of course.” Reaching behind him, he pulls a sheet of paper from his back jean pocket and hands it to me. “Here’s your schedule. Three courses, three times a week, only an hour each.”

  “Three courses?” I repeat when I take the paper and skim over the words and times. “I thought you said it was only two.”

  “I did, but the masters added Latin because they assumed you were not proficient in the dead language, and most spells and curses are old.”

  “Oh.”

  “Three classes with an hour break before the last one, all on Mondays, Wednesdays and Friday afternoons. The first two are with me.”

  “Who will be teaching me Latin?” I ask.

  “The same person who taught me and everyone else in the academy, including the other masters…my father.”

  “Awesome,” I mumble.

  “He can be difficult, but he’s not all bad. Once you get to know him, you’ll be able to see where he’s coming from by being an asshole.”

  “If you say so.”

  “I do,” Kingston says, leaning his shoulder against the wall and crossing his arms over his chest. “He was harder on me than the other warlocks and I hated him for it. Now I know he was just preparing me to be able to make the tough decisions that will be required of me when I’m in charge.”

  “Will you do things differently?” I ask.

  “What do you mean? Will I let you leave?” he correctly guesses. “It depends. First, I have to be able to trust you. And based on the fact that you were only a few feet away from the gate tonight, I can’t do that yet.”

  “So you were the one who tracked me,” I accuse through narrowed eyes.

  “I was worried about you, that’s all. And it’s fine for you to go to the western woods except for the night of the full moon. I’ll get you a calendar.”

  “The shifters won’t hurt me, will they?”

  “Can’t be too careful when they’re in animal form. They’re more aggressive, more inclined to bite and attack.”

  “But a witch can’t be changed.”

  “No, but you could get hurt,” Kingston says and then straightens up, his arms falling to his sides. “Wait. How did you know that?”

  “I, ah, just assumed. Seems unlikely for someone to be more than one type of freak,” I say to cover up my slip. If he finds out I was talking to Rowan, Rowan may get in trouble and I wouldn’t get to see him again when he may end up being my only friend here.

  “You’re not a freak,” Kingston tells me. “You’re lucky to be a witch. And as soon as you see how powerful you are, you’ll love it.”

  “Lucky? I think my dad was right. It feels more like I was cursed,” I say before I slink off into my room and then shut and lock my door behind me. Resting my back against the wood, I can’t help but wonder if our father knew. Is being a witch what he was talking about when he said I was evil? Why didn’t he just tell me? And does this mean Hugo is a warlock? I wonder if he knows. Guess I may not find out for a while since I’m stuck here, and he’s locked up.

  Throughout the night, I toss and turn in the unfamiliar room, trying to sleep in a strange bed in a house surrounded by things I’ve only heard about on Halloween. I never thought I could be one of them. It’s impossible to get any sleep after everything I learned yesterday, and the torture. I kept hoping that there’s been some kind of mistake and any second now someone would burst into my room and tell me it was all a mistake or a big joke, that I wasn’t a witch, and let me go home.

  That never happened.

  Eventually, I finally gave up trying to get to sleep, took a shower, and went downstairs for an early breakfast.

  Chapter 7

  Drake

  The morning after I kidnapped the witch, I lurked around the kitchen until I spotted her in the dining room. She sat alone while the other students gawked and whispered. No doubt the news is out that she’s the long-sought-after one the warlocks have been waiting for. It took all of my self-control to wait until she left and was completely alone in the corridor before I caught up to her.

  Last night I was so jacked up on her blood that I couldn’t sleep. Now, the effects are wearing off, and I want another hit e
ven though I know I can’t have one. Still, that doesn’t mean I can’t talk to her to see how she’s doing. I’m in no way trying to seek her forgiveness so she’ll let me lick her knees the next time she scrapes them on the pavement…

  “Harper!” I call out, having since learned her name and had it seared in my brain, right along with her legs and ass in the academy uniform that’s never looked so good before.

  At first, she just peeks shyly over her shoulder before her green eyes widen. She then whirls around and hisses, “You!”

  “Me. Hey, how are you?” I ask, figuring she’s had time to calm down and accept her fate.

  “You’re a jerk!” she exclaims as she comes up to me and shoves my chest, pushing my back against the wall, looking like an angry pixie rather than a pissed off witch. “I trusted you and you-you condemned me to this? I’m a prisoner with a shock collar! They want to use me to make babies thanks to you! I-I hope you die a horrible death!”

  “Wish I could fulfil your wish, but I’m sort of immortal,” I tell her before I flip our position in the blink of an eye, pinning her back to the wall and caging her in with my arms. “You should try and forgive me. How could I leave you there, distraught and bleeding on the side of the road when you could be the only witch maybe in the entire world? I had to bring you in for your own safety. If you die, witches and warlocks are done. Not that I care about the species, but I would feel guilty if the human police found you and burned you at the stake.”

  “No one would’ve known what I was if you hadn’t brought me here,” she seethes through clenched teeth.

  “Is that what you think?” I ask as I watch her face. “Wow. You’ve got a lot to learn, you naïve, little virgin.”

  “Virgin? H-how would you know if I am or not?”

  “Because even I’ve read about what happens when a witch knocks boots. The fact that you don’t know means you’ve never been nailed.” Lowering my lips to her ear, I whisper, “But don’t worry. I’m sure the masters will fix that fast. I bet Kingston is coming in his pants just thinking about popping your cherry. Word around campus is all the warlocks, young and old, are fantasizing about getting in your panties.”

  “You’re disgusting,” she replies softly, her voice cracking slightly and her breathes coming out in pants as if she may be just a little turned on by my dirty talk and close proximity.

  “I’m just being honest. In a few weeks, you’ll have to choose one of them to knock you up just like I’m stuck with picking a female mate.”

  “Why?” she asks in a puff of air that flutters over my neck.

  “Why do I have to be with a vampire and not sexy, little witches?” I lean back to ask and watch her face. She nods, her eyelids heavy and her pulse about to thump out of her thin skin along the side of her neck where I would give anything to sink my teeth into.

  “Drinking blood brings on the other lust, and apparently yours is so addictive that once I bite you, I may not stop drinking and fucking you until there’s nothing left because your blood is so damn delicious,” I tell her.

  “How-how do you know it’s delicious?”

  “I snuck a little lick from you on my bike,” I whisper.

  “I knew it!”

  “Are you gonna turn me in?” I ask. “Get back at me? Voss said that tasting you is a big hell no. They could grant your wish of a painful death with the guillotine if you told them I already have.”

  “N-no, I won’t turn you in, not if you do me a favor,” Harper stammers before she pushes at my chest and I take a step back.

  “What favor is that?” I ask curiously, still unsure why the fuck I admitted that shit to her. Maybe because I have a death wish. It wasn’t like I asked to become a blood sucker.

  Or maybe I told her because I want her forgiveness and thought giving her a way to get revenge would help. Hell, if I’m wrong about her, then my head will be separating from my body before the sun goes down.

  And just wondering what will happen to me is the most exciting thing I’ve done in years, making me certain that I did the right thing by bringing the witch home.

  Wincing, Harper says, “If I give you a phone number will you call and warn my father to run before the coven masters come after him?”

  “I can do that,” I tell her without hesitation. I’d do anything to make amends with the witch.

  “You promise not to go to the masters?”

  “I promise. Get me the number tonight after dinner. I’ll wait right here.”

  “Great. Thank you,” she says.

  “My pleasure,” I reply before she scurries away, her concern for her father making me just a little bit more addicted to her.

  And this time I won’t betray her.

  Chapter 8

  Harper

  My first potion and curses class with Kingston is a complete and utter failure. It starts off easily enough, with him going over the basic sets – adding ingredients specific to each recipe like cooking, and then always adding drops of my blood to activate, which is gross.

  “Is something supposed to happen?” I ask him after I pricked my finger to add three drops to the healing potion intended for my scraped knees and palms.

  “If the potion is activated, it’s supposed to glow,” he explains, holding up the glass bottle by the neck and bringing it closer to his face while swirling the liquid around.

  “It’s not glowing.”

  “No, it’s not,” Kingston agrees with a grin.

  “Maybe I’m not a witch.”

  “You are a witch.”

  “Then I must be a crappy one on top of everything else.”

  “Don’t worry, this just means your powers haven’t yet manifested fully,” he explains. “For most supernaturals, it happens at puberty, except, ah, witches and warlocks tend to run on a slightly different timeline.”

  “What do you mean they operate on a different timeline?” Great, is what Drake said true? I’m a magic-less witch because I’m a virgin? I would ask Kingston but can’t force myself to say the words out loud.

  Clearing his throat, he says, “Some students just take a little more time to come into their magic. How about I show you what it’s supposed to look like so we can heal you up?”

  “That would be nice,” I tell him so that I won’t have to deal with nasty scabs and bruises. I’m already getting stared at out by everyone in the house and on the grounds. At least they can gawk at something other than my tore up legs.

  I watch as Kingston repeats the same steps, adding the aloe leaves, some other herbs and then his own blood. Like a small reddish tinted nightlight, the bottle glows brightly.

  “That’s pretty cool,” I tell him.

  “This is only the beginning of what you’ll be able to do soon,” he says. “Now sit down at one of the desks and I’ll grab a cotton ball to rub this on you.”

  I do, choosing one that’s in the front row; and in just a few moments, all of my wounds have been covered with the substance. All I felt was a little tingle, and then the scrapes started to close up.

  “There you go,” Kingston says when he finishes up and then pours the rest of the bottle down one of the classroom sinks.

  “Why did you throw the rest out? Does it go bad?” I ask.

  “No, it won’t go bad,” he responds. “I just don’t want anyone else to see how brightly my potions glow.”

  I start to ask why not; but before I get the chance, two teenagers walk through the door, freezing when they see me.

  “There she is! That’s the fucking witch,” the first one whispers to the other, who is not convinced. “Is she really a witch, Mr. Aldric?” he asks.

  “She’s really a witch, Jonathan, and she can hear you, so watch your mouth,” Kingston or Mr. Aldric, as they called him, replies with a smirk.

  “Hey, baby, how you doin’?” the first one with the brown faux hawk and foul mouth asks when he swaggers over.

  “Fine,” I reply while the other guy snickers and Kingston steps up beside him.<
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  “You need to stop hitting on her and hit the books a little harder, Zaine, unless you want to repeat your senior year, again,” Kingston warns him.

  Face reddening with embarrassment, Zaine’s shoulders slump and he slinks off to a desk across the room.

  While the rest of the warlocks filter in, Kingston stays hovering over me, and even redirects one of the boys to a different desk after he accused me of stealing his seat.

  “I can move to another one,” I say as I start to stand up.

  “No, Junior’s fine in the back,” Kingston declares with a clenched jaw. Or should I call him Mr. Aldric? “You’re new and have a lot of catching up to do.”

  “Okay,” I agree, even though I can’t help but wonder why he seems to be hovering over me all of a sudden. Maybe I’m such a horrible witch that he wants to keep an eye on me.

  Kingston

  Harper is holding up better on her first day than I expected since we didn’t exactly give her the choice about having to stay or attend classes. Most students either act out and rebel or show up and refuse to show an interest in the lectures. Harper, though, showed up to my classroom in a pleasant mood and was attentive through our one-on-one lesson and history class.

  Not that any of our warlocks even heard one word I said. They were all too busy watching her, wanting her, fantasizing about her. The lust in the room was palpable from the twelve hormonal boys, which I expected, yet couldn’t help but feel…defensive.

  It’s not that any of the warlocks couldn’t make suitable, yet weak, mates for Harper in a few years. It was the fact that I didn’t like imagining that even for a second.

  I’m sure my yearning for her is simply stemming from the fact that she’s one of a kind and innocent, as confirmed by her inability to activate a spell. I had assumed as much, but now I know for certain.