Fractured Fate: Reverse Harem Serial - Part One (Fated Book 1)

by Cece Rose

  “I don’t understand,” I whisper softly, frustrated at my own lack of resistance. A finger rests under my chin and tilts my head up, so I’m again looking into his amber eyes.

  “You will soon,” he murmurs back. He leans down and presses his lips against mine firmly. His arm pulls me tighter against him. He runs his tongue lightly across my bottom lip, and then bites down softly, tugging on it as he grinds his body against mine. I gasp at the sensation, and he seizes the opportunity to slip his tongue in to mingle with my own. I moan into his mouth, completely lost of all my sense. His free hand snakes into my hair, pulling me even closer to him as if he resented all distance between us.

  He pulls back, his amber eyes meeting mine for a moment. Up close, I can see the flecks of gold in the honey-like amber. He rubs his thumb across my cheek again, staring at me almost in wonder.

  "I'm sorry about this part, but there's no other way about it," he says softly, his voice sounding thick. I give him a confused look, but before I can verbalise my concern, he uses his grip on my hair to tilt my head to the side. He darts his head in faster than I can see or try to stop. I feel a sharp pain on the top of my right shoulder where it meets the bottom of my neck. I gasp in shock and try to pull away, but his grip is too tight. He holds me like that for a moment, with what I realise to be his teeth biting into my shoulder. He releases me and pulls back slightly, I notice the blood on his lips. I feel dizzy on my feet and stumble slightly, but he keeps me upright.

  He lifts one of my hands up, I feel a sharp sting across it and hiss at the pain. He shoots me what looks to be an apologetic glance. He brings his palm up against mine, holding them together tightly. I feel a burning sensation in my palm, and then the same burning feeling travels up my arm.

  “What...what the hell are you doing?” I manage to just get the words out, though they sound slurred.

  "It's almost done. When you wake up it'll all make sense, I promise," he says soothingly. I start to feel sleepy, he must see it as he lowers us both down to the ground. He brushes a stray strand of hair from my face and strokes it back. It feels so relaxing, I shut my eyes, barely noticing the burning sensation that is now all the way into my chest.

  I hear his voice murmuring softly now, but I can barely make out the words. I wonder for a moment if he is even speaking in English, as his soft murmurings begin to lose all comprehension in my mind. Softer and softer his rich voice gets, the words making no sense, but giving me a sense of comfort all the same.

  I manage to catch the words “Sweet dreams” whispered in my ear. I feel a feather-light kiss on my forehead, then I lose myself completely into the darkness of sleep.

  Chapter Two

  I roll over in bed, pulling the pillow over my head to cut off the annoying sounds of birds chirping in the distance outside. Annoying little fuckers, chirping away happily, while my head is pounding. I must have gone a little hard on the booze last night. The chirping seems to somehow get louder the more I try to ignore it. I groan and lift the pillow off my head and open my eyes slowly, I stare up at the smooth cream-coloured ceiling. I stare for a moment, knowing something isn’t right. Shit, that’s not my hotel room ceiling.

  I sit upright and glance around the room. Taking in the large king-sized bed I'm sitting on, with its black sheets and charcoal-coloured pillows. I take in the large flat screen on the wall. I see three black coloured doors, two side-by-side on my left and one along the same wall as the headboard of the bed. I look at the simple cream and black wallpaper; the whole room is an expression of monochrome.

  I stand and realise I'm only dressed in my underwear. I shiver slightly, both wanting, and not wanting, to know who undressed me. A flash of amber eyes flickers in my mind, and I recall the strange events of the night. Shit, I must have been drugged or something. My eyes dart around the room again, this time in panic. Seeing no threat near, I quietly look around the room, trying to find my clothes.

  I find my shiny, wet-look leggings folded neatly on a bedside table. I bring them up to my face and breathe them in. They've been washed, the smell of the fabric softener different from my own at home. I tug them on quickly and quietly. I look around for my white-lace top and find it nowhere in sight. I search for my phone, realising quickly it’s not here. I sigh and make my way over to the wall with two doors, guessing by the lack of wardrobe in the room, one of them must be it.

  I open the first door slowly and quietly and find a bathroom inside. I shut the door and slowly open the next, revealing a decent-sized walk-in wardrobe, with only a third of the space filled. I wander in and glance around the space, seeing various casual clothing, suits, and shoes.

  I grab one of the more casual looking shirts that is a lush, dark-green colour and pull it on. It's much too big for me, but it's far better than walking around without a shirt. I look around again searching for my heels, which also seem to have disappeared. I consider taking a pair of the shoes from here to protect my feet, but one look at the size of the shoes compared to my tiny feet, and I know I'd be asking for trouble trying to get anywhere in them.

  I stare at the remaining door, knowing it leads to the rest of the house, and possibly, Cyrus. Whatever he is…whatever he did, I don’t want to know. I just want to sneak the hell out of here, and never see him again. Melissa must be so worried about me now, I hope we haven’t missed our train back home yet. If only there was a damn clock in this room, or better yet, if I had my phone.

  I walk slowly to the door and press my ear against it, listening for any sounds. Not hearing anything, I slowly push it open and poke my head around the door. I find a long hallway, in what must be an enormous house judging by the number of doors. More importantly though for me, it's empty. I smile to myself. Finally, some luck. I creep out the room, shutting the door quietly behind me. I make my way along the hallway until I reach a set of stairs, I start to go down them, when I notice someone jogging up them. I spare a glance over my shoulder and straighten up my stance when I realise I don’t have enough time to retreat.

  I eye the figure coming up the stairs, it’s a man. It’s not Cyrus, Alex, or the pale one though. He’s wearing a thick motorbike jacket and his hair still looks ruffled from wearing a helmet. The man coming up the stairs notices me and smiles. I smile back uncertainly. He pauses on the stairs just in front of me.

  “Hey, haven’t seen you around before, you must be new?” he asks. I stare at him for a moment, considering his friendly smile and kind, brown eyes before responding.

  “Something like that,” I reply.

  “Ah that’s cool, we’ve been needing some more luck with turning.” I try to keep the confused frown off my face and just give, what I hope to be, a polite nod. He leans casually against the stair railing and looks me up and down, not bothering to hide his assessment. "So, when did you get here?" he questions.

  “Are you always this nosey? I don’t even know your name,” I mutter, deflecting his question.

  “Luc,” he smiles at me, “What about you, pretty girl, what’s your name?”

  “Lena,” I answer, rolling my eyes at his comment.

  “Lena? Luc and Lena sound good together, don’t you think?” he says flirtatiously, adding in a wink.

  “Yeah, if you’re naming a twin brother and sister,” I retort.

  He makes a mock stabbed-in-the-chest gesture. “You wound me, Lena, did you just friend-zone me in less than two minutes?” I smile and shrug, finding myself enjoying his company, despite the bizarre situation and the lack of time knowing him, I just feel instantly comfortable. “You didn’t agree to the friend-zoning, which I’ll take as a win for now, pretty girl.” He flashes me a cheeky grin and goes to side step and pass me on the stairs. As he’s walking past me, he pauses. Did he just sniff me? He gives me a curious look.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Are you a friend of Cyrus or something?" he asks.

  “Or something,” I mutter quietly, causing him to frown. “Why?” I add with a tight smile.

&
nbsp; “That’s his shirt, isn’t it?” he asks, one eyebrow raised in question.

  “Yeah, it is. I…uh…misplaced mine.”

  “Misplaced?”

  “Yup.”

  “You know what, pretty girl. Keep me in the friend-zone, I like my head,” he says it with a chuckle, but something in the undertone of his voice when he says it, sounds like a siren going off. I need to get out of here.

  “So, um, nice meeting you, Luc,” I mumble and push past him. I descend the stairs at a faster pace, casting a glance over my shoulder and seeing Luc has turned and carried on up. I breathe a sigh of relief at seeing him leave.

  I reach the bottom of the stairs and stare out at the space around me and notice what looks to be a large front door. Bingo. The front door in my sights, I throw caution to the wind, and I make a beeline for it, all but running. I throw open the door and rush out, and smack straight right into a hard chest. Fuck. I look up and see Alex looking down at me.

  “Where are you rushing off to?” he questions, narrowing his eyes at me.

  “Uh…nowhere?” I mumble, wide-eyed. I try and step around him but he moves to the side, blocking me.

  “Exactly. Now, you can walk back in the house, or I can drag you back inside kicking and screaming, which will it be?” he asks calmly.

  “Option three.”

  “Option three?” he echoes in question.

  “Yeah, option three,” I say as I move slightly closer to him. He frowns in confusion. I quickly slam my knee up between his legs, catching him right where it hurts. He clutches himself, bent over and staring at me in shock. “Knee them in the balls and run,” I say sweetly and then, I take off running.

  I hear him following after me far quicker than I’d hoped for. I push myself to run faster, my feet aching in protest of running across the gravelly ground without shoes. Arms grab hold of my waist from behind, dragging me to a stop. I wriggle and slam my elbow into his gut, he grunts and adjusts his hold on me, and then swings me over his fucking shoulder.

  “Put. Me. The. Fuck. Down," I screech, slamming my fists against his back. He turns and starts walking back to the front door, ignoring my protests. I scream as loudly as I can, hoping to attract the attention of a neighbour somewhere, but judging by the size of the grounds around the house I doubt anyone can hear me. “You stupid, fucking giant, put me the hell down!” I seethe.

  “Can’t do that, Lena. Trust me, listening to your screaming is not my ideal Sunday afternoon, but here we are. Let’s make the best of it and you shut the hell up,” he mutters.

  “Oh, so kidnapping isn’t your usual Sunday activity, why break tradition now? Put me down! I’ll leave, and you can do whatever it is you normally do,” I retort in a snarky tone.

  “Sorry, sweetheart, can’t do that, I like my head where it is.” What is with these people and losing their heads? We reach back inside of the house, two strangers are stood in a doorway, and Luc has made his way back to the bottom of the stairs. All of their eyes are watching us intently. “Nobody lets her leave until Cyrus gets home tonight, you hear me?” Alex instructs them. They all nod mutely; the two guys retreat into the room behind them, and Luc steps aside on the stairs.

  Alex walks up the stairs with me over his shoulder, taking care to make sure I don’t knock my head on anything, he then walks back down the hallway, to what I assume to be Cyrus’ room, he kicks the door open and drops me down onto the large bed. “Don’t freaking go anywhere, okay?” he mutters, he turns and pulls out his phone, tapping off some texts. “There, everyone now knows you’re not to leave and to look out for you. You’re not going anywhere.” He sighs in relief.

  “So what, everyone here is just okay with kidnapping?” I ask, narrowing my eyes at him.

  “They’re used to some people not taking the news well, I guess,” he answers vaguely with a shrug and then turns and walks out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

  Taking what news? Who the hell are these people? I groan in frustration and rub at my temples, a pounding headache settling in. Seeing as I don’t look to be going anywhere anytime soon, I lie back on the bed, throwing an arm over my eyes to block the light peeking through the curtains. I shift under the covers, due to the cold chill in the room. With my eyes pressed tightly shut, and my mind wondering over all the questions in my head, I drift off into a restless sleep.

  Chapter Three

  A light knocking on the door draws me from my sleep. For a moment, I wonder why the hell Melissa is waking me up, but then reality kicks in and I remember where I am. Shit. Is that? No, who would knock on their own bedroom door?

  “Just gimme a second,” I call out as I slip from the covers. I run a hand through my messed-up hair, trying to tame it slightly, before declaring it a lost cause and making my way to the door. I pull it open to find Luc standing there, a bottle of water tucked under his arm and a plate in hand, loaded with what looks to be pasta bake.

  “I figured you might be hungry, Alex said Cy wasn’t going to be back until late, and I realised you probably haven’t eaten today,” he says softly.

  “So, you guys do believe in feeding your kidnap victims? Good to know,” I mutter sarcastically, but I eye the food longingly.

  “You’re not a kidnap victim, you’re just adjusting,” he says with a frown, stepping by me into the room. He places the water bottle and plate, along with a knife and fork down onto the bedside table.

  “Adjusting to what? Being kidnapped?” I retort dryly.

  He eyes me for a moment, and then his eyes widen as some kind of realisation dawns on him. “Shit, you really don’t know what’s going on, do you?”

  “Other than the fact this is definitely the weirdest fucking kidnapping ever, nope, not a damn clue.” My eyes flick to the food again. I cave and sit on the edge of the bed and pull the plate onto my lap. “This isn’t drugged or poisoned or anything… right?” I ask.

  “No, it’s safe,” he answers, he stands back and leans against the wall, watching me. I stab my fork into the pasta goodness and shovel it into my mouth, totally unladylike and so definitely delicious. “You got bitten, right?” he asks. I think on his question as I chew. Now that he mentions it, that Cyrus guy did bite me on the shoulder right before it felt like I’d been drugged.

  “Maybe,” I mumble around bites.

  “And then you exchanged blood,” he says simply. I choke on the pasta. Exchange blood? What is this? A freaking cult? Luc darts over to me and thumps my back, I gain some composure back and reach for the water, downing a third of the bottle.

  “Exchanged blood?” I question.

  “Yeah, it’s normally done through the hand.” He reaches for my left hand and turns it palm up, finding nothing. He reaches for the right and does the same, there across my palm is the thin line of a scar, one that looks much older than something given to me last night. I frown at it, wondering how the hell it could have healed so quickly. "He didn't explain what he was doing, did he?" Luc asks with an unhappy expression. However, the question is clearly rhetorical as he carries on, “you would have thought he’d have told you, of all people, what the hell he was doing. I can’t believe he would have changed you without asking or at least warning you first.” He shakes his head, clearly in disbelief.

  “You wanna translate this conversation into normal for me? Because I’m not understanding a word of your crazy.”

  "Crap, I really shouldn't be the one explaining this to you…" he trails off, his eyes darting around the room as if hoping to see something that will save him from having to explain whatever is going on.

  “Sorry, buddy, but there’s nobody else around to explain, and I think I deserve some explanation.” I stare at him, pleading with my eyes, his shoulders slump.

  “Fine. You were turned…” he trails off again, not meeting my eyes.

  “Turned?” I prompt.

  “Turned into a werewolf, wolf-shifter, lycan, whatever the hell term you want to use for it, you’re it now.”


  I eye him for a moment, seeing the serious expression on his face, I throw my head back and laugh.

  “You know, you almost had me going for a moment there, Luc. What is this, some kind of prank that you’re all taking just a bit too far?” He doesn’t laugh, just looks at me, meeting my eyes now, not one ounce of humour on his face. “You can’t be serious,” I splutter. “You’re nuts, all of you, this is some kind of cult!” I accuse. I stand up, shifting the plate off my lap and onto the bed. I poke Luc in the chest. “This. Isn’t. Funny,” I say glaring at him.

  “It’s not meant to be.” He shifts on his feet, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.

  “Alright, say you’re telling the truth…prove it.”

  “Prove it?”

  “Yeah turn into a wolf, Mr. Wolf-Shifter,” I challenge.

  “We’re not supposed to turn inside the house, it’s against the rules. Plus, you’re not allowed outside, but I can show you something that’ll prove I’m not human. Would that do?” he asks. I nod my head and he pulls out a knife, I step back startled. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to cut you,” he says in a teasing tone. He rolls the sleeve up his left arm and I realise his intention.

  “Wait! You can’t just cut your arm open, are you mad?” I snap.

  “The blade isn’t silver, so I’ll heal up just fine. Calm down,” he reassures me. I bite my lip. Whatever, it’s not my fault if the crazy person hurts himself. He puts the blade against his skin. I flinch, not wanting to watch, however, I force myself to keep looking. He cuts the blade down his arm, deeper than I expected. Blood lines the cut and starts to pour out. The coppery tang of blood fills the air. My eyes widen. I should have stopped him.

  “Shit, why the freaking hell did you do that,” I curse as I run into the bathroom. I grab a fluffy hand towel and rush back out with it. I grab his arm and press the towel down, trying to stop the blood flow. “Stupid, fucking crazy person, why am I even helping you? You’re an accomplice in my kidnap! But no, here I am saving you from bleeding to death,” I mutter darkly.