Fevered: A Reverse Harem Fantasy Romance (The Carnal Court Book 1)

by Devyn Sinclair

  For a second I manage to look back the way we came, and it’s a wall of fog. The jungle fades away behind us into opaque yellow air. Everything is being swallowed by it. And the trees are swarming. Every branch on every tree is covered in ravens, all of them staring at us. One after another diving after us, only to be repelled by magic. But there’s more diving at once.

  Kent pulls me forward, but I can’t look away. Beyond the trees is a figure, hooded, shrouded in the fog. There’s more than one, and they’re everywhere I look, following. It’s her. It has to be her. I can’t see clearly enough to know for sure, but I feel it.

  My heart is pounding in my ears, and the trees are echoing with the raw shrieks of the poisonous birds. They slam against the fae shields in waves, the sound of them striking it almost as loud as their screams. I stumble over the root of a tree and Kent catches me a split second before I go down. “I can’t,” I tell him. My legs about to give out, and we need to go faster.

  “I’ve got you.” He scoops me into his arms without hesitation and I let him carry me. The sky is a flurry of wings and screams, and we’re running now. I’m shaking, adrenaline spinning through my limbs as we run. The only sound is the sound of the birds and them falling away. Brae grunts in effort as a rush of ravens collide with his magic. He cuts down a bird out of the air with a sword, and it dissolves into mist.

  They all have swords. Where did they get swords? They’re cutting through the birds and holding the majority of them back. But there’s so many. Too many. I see one swoop over Verys and narrowly avoid a swing from his sword. I can’t yell out in warning before it collides with Kent from behind. We stumble together and he recovers at the last second, the raven exploding into poisonous, burning, fog under Verys’s sword.

  Talons rip into my shoulder, and I’m thrown back to that moment in the street. I’m on the ground and I’m dying. Bitter, rotten orange floods my senses, pulling my life away like sand is pouring out of an hourglass. Beak and claws rip my skin, and this is the end. I can feel it coming. She’s here. She found me. There’s a chance that I’m screaming, but I can’t hear it.

  Foul-smelling mist explodes across my face and the bird evaporates. “Go!” Brae roars over the noise of the birds. And it feels like we’re flying. My skin is searing, blistering, raging from the fog that’s overtaking us. The figures in the mist are getting closer. I can barely see them through the storm of ravens.

  The air around us smells stale and acrid. If the trees of the jungle weren’t around me, I would think that we were on the slopes of a volcano. The world feels like it’s slipping, turning on its side. Kent’s voice is vibrating in my chest, speaking words that I can’t understand. I can feel the magic in my chest and somewhere I can feel the fresh air that I can suddenly breathe, but the fog hasn’t left my mind.

  I’m going to disappear into it, following the figures into the trees. I can hear their voices trying to call me back.

  CHAPTER NINE

  ________

  KARI

  Sometimes pain is a color. Sometimes it’s a lens. It’s filtering everything that I see, highlighting some things, washing others away. The jungle is long gone, eclipsed by trees and mounds of stone and crystal, swirling shapes that shouldn’t exist in substances this hard. I think I catch a glimpse of mountains in the distance, but I’m not sure, my eyes won’t focus on the horizon.

  The waves of agony start in my shoulder, falling down through my chest—which feels like it’s cracking—and shimmering down through the rest of me, aching and twisting. This pain makes me want to writhe, try to find a position that hurts less, to move and try to outrun it. I don’t have the strength to do either.

  There’s a tree—but it’s not a tree. It’s a spire of white stone resembling a pine down to the needles. It sounds like a wind chime as we pass it. I’m alive. I’m not sure how.

  “There!” a voice calls, and the body supporting mine changes direction. Dizziness spirals through my mind and everything goes black for a second. I open my eyes again and see an impossibly big crystal above me. Will it fall? No. It doesn’t seem to be moving. I’m moving. There’s more rock and crystal overhead, and the whispers from the men around me have started to echo.

  I’m laid against something hard, the surface behind me keeping me upright. We’re in a cave. It looks like a geode, with glassy purple fragments jutting out from the walls in unpredictable patterns. They’re lit from the entrance of the cave with watery daylight that turns to brilliance as Verys points to the ground and fire erupts.

  I have to close my eyes against the sudden shimmer, but when they adjust, it’s beautiful. In any other circumstance, I would be in awe. Trying to find my focus, I look at the men’s faces. Brae is closest to me, lips pressed into a line, but his eyes are darting over me. Like he’s looking for further signs of the attack. He looks tired—his golden skin a little paler than before—and he’s breathing harder than I’ve seen. His clothes are ripped, and I can see bloody scratches on his shoulders. Everyone has injuries that they’re ignoring.

  The look on Brae’s face is mirrored on Aeric’s as he turns and stands in the entrance of the cave, keeping watch. And on Verys’s as he finishes a twist with his hand, molding the fire so it doesn’t escape his hold. I’m not sure how I know that’s what he’s doing, but I do. I look at him again, and he meets my eyes. Panic. That’s what they’re hiding. Panic for me or that we’re going to be attacked again, I’m not sure.

  Kent isn’t hiding anything—he’s pacing back and forth in the cave, hands running through his hair. When he looks at me, his eyes are wild. Pushing out a breath, he comes over to me, placing a hand over my injured shoulder. The pain is suddenly blistering fire and he pulls away at my gasp.

  It’s like all the air has been sucked out of the world. Not just for me, but when I look at them. I manage to take a breath, and I’m so tired. I could just go to sleep right here. Deep in my gut, I know that I shouldn’t. I pull what energy I have left up and form the words. “What aren’t you saying?” I ask, directing the question at anyone who will answer.

  “The magic is the same but different. When we brought you across the veil, the fact that you were in Allwyn gave you a small measure of protection. Magic can be tied to a place, and that was deeply tied to the human world, preying on the fact that you were human. But this time it’s not. Being here won’t protect you against it, and it’s moving much faster. It’s feeding off your life force.” Brae finishes his explanation.

  Kent is up and moving again, like the energy inside him will not allow him to stay still. “So give her more magic. It’s been working up till now. Why is it different?”

  “It’s going to consume it much faster now,” he says, “and she needs more than I have.”

  “It’s magic,” Kent says, stopping to glare at Brae. “You’re saying that you can run out?”

  Verys’s voice cuts in, soft and level. “A lot of what humans are taught about magic is wrong. It’s not infinite. If we use too much, we have to let it recharge, much like using physical energy. We can create more, but…”

  He trails off into silence, and the three fae share looks. They seem impossibly uncomfortable, and I didn’t think it could happen to fae, but they look awkward.

  “What?” Kent asks, and I’m glad that he does.

  “It’s not that simple,” Verys says.

  Aeric stiffens and turns away again as Brae clears his throat. “All fae have magic that stems from Allwyn itself, our gift from the Goddess. It’s a relatively small piece that’s always with us. The rest comes from our Kingdom and Court alignment, which is passed through lineage or sometimes chosen by the Goddess.

  “When we’re at home, we have access to all the magic we could need. We can raise as much as we like—a nearly infinite supply—because that’s our home, and the land is steeped in our magic. It’s not the same in the other Kingdoms.”

  “So you could raise more?” I ask.

  Brae nods, but says nothing mor
e.

  The anger in Kent’s tone is starting to overflow. “There’s something you’re still not telling us.”

  Verys and Brae share a look before Brae speaks again. “We’re members of the Carnal Court.”

  The words feel full, like they have more substance than other words. Almost as if Brae is invoking something powerful. “The Carnal Court?” I echo.

  They share a look again, but don’t speak. It’s Aeric who turns around, exasperated. “Our magic flows from acts of physical pleasure and sex.”

  His eyes connect with mine, and he smiles. It’s just a small one, but it has me remembering riding with him on that horse, supported by his body and the delicious strength that it has. I blush, and even that hurts. Though it’s something that I can do even that right now. The smirk fades off of his face as he turns away again, troubled.

  “What does that mean?” Kent asks. “You have to go jerk off to get more magic?”

  I give him a look and he backs down, raising his hand in apology. They’re trying to help, and I’m not going to let him constantly fight. Even though I don’t really have the strength to stop him.

  In spite of Kent’s tone, Brae laughs a little. “That would give me more to work with, but it wouldn’t help Kari.”

  Verys cuts in, “That’s the other thing about magic. It’s most effective when used in combination with our alignment. For example, a Fae of the water kingdom will always be able to heal someone more effectively if they can use water to conduct the magic.”

  Kent is staring at Verys, and I can tell that he doesn’t get it. I’ve made the leap, and look at Brae. He nods slightly, and I blush again.

  “So no matter how much magic I feed Kari,” Brae says, clearing his throat again and holding my gaze, “It won’t be any more effective unless she’s receiving physical pleasure.”

  God, my mind is suddenly filled with images of sex. With Kent. With all of them. Even if I am dying I’m not fucking blind, and I’m sure that being with any of them would give me more than enough pleasure for this to work. My blood warms under the pain, and I keep myself still, not giving any indication that my body is reacting to the idea. Because that’s not going to happen, even if my body impossibly wants that. Any of it. All of it. I’m blushing again, trying to shove the images of hard fae bodies out of my mind.

  Kent’s voice explodes through the cave, “If you so much as lay a hand on her—”

  “I didn’t say that it couldn’t be self-pleasure,” Brae says quickly, raising his hands like he’s surrendering. “But if my magic—any of our magic—is going to have a chance at slowing this down, it has to be that.”

  The pain has slowly morphed from the twisting ache back into that feeling of burning acid, but still, I’m suddenly laughing. The irony of this isn’t lost on me, and they all look at me like I’m crazy. Even Aeric, which just makes me laugh harder, even though it hurts. “You’re telling me that in order to stop this I have to masturbate.”

  The fae nod, and Kent looks a little embarrassed.

  “If I don’t masturbate, I’m going to die.”

  Brae nods.

  I shake my head, fighting the giggles bubbling through my lips. “Of course I’ll do it. Even if it is the last thing I thought you were going to say. I’ll do anything to make it stop.” A flare of fire lances through my chest, and my voice rasps into nothing.

  The air goes tense and still again. Brae looks at Verys. “We need food.”

  He nods, standing up from his place by the fire and grabbing Kent by the arm. “We’ll find some.”

  Aeric grabs Kent’s other arm, even though he’s struggling. “I’m not leaving her alone with him—”

  Brae cuts Kent’s words off again as he stands. It’s becoming a habit. “I will give Kari what magic I can and then keep watch outside of the cave so she can have some privacy. Just as you should, by leaving.”

  His words are flat and final, and Kent looks to me, the question in his eyes. Will I be all right?

  I nod, and he stops struggling. It’s not the answer that I think he wanted, but I trust Brae. He’s not going to hurt me, and if I can feel better, then I’m going to do it. I don’t care. I’m sick of the pain.

  Kent doesn’t stop looking at me until he’s out of sight, disappearing behind a strange formation of blue and orange rock that looks like cubes within cubes.

  And then I’m alone with Brae, and I’m very aware that I’m still in my grey dress, though now it’s ripped to shreds and frankly exposes more than it hides. Blood stains the top of it from the bird that attacked my shoulder, but I look at it, and the skin is healed over—likely a side effect from the magic Brae used to keep me alive. The fabric is thin, and everything about my body is completely obvious. I can’t help but think about it, because of what I’m about to do, and also the fact that Brae might as well be a Greek god of perfection.

  He smiles, but his eyes are sad as he leans down and gently places his hand on my stomach. “I’m sorry about this.”

  I laugh, though it doesn’t seem very funny. “I never thought that masturbating would save my life.”

  He laughs too, and I feel that warm, sunny glow of magic seeping into my skin. The magic gives off a scent that’s like him, honey and nutty. It reminds me of toasted chestnuts at Christmas time.

  Even just the magic does make me feel a little better, but he’s right, it doesn’t have the same effect it did before the attack. The fog and the birds. “I’ll be outside. If you call me, I will hear you.”

  “Thank you.”

  He’s looking into my eyes, and his hand is still on me even though he’s not passing magic anymore, and I’m finding it hard to look away. But I’m finally the one that breaks the gaze. His hand lingers for a second longer, and I miss the heat his fingers offered when he pulls away. I watch him disappear into the maze of stone outside.

  It’s the first time I’ve been completely alone since the first attack, and I take a shuddering breath. She’s not here. Brae is watching. I am safe.

  I can feel the magic stirring under my skin, and I need to use it. Slowly, moving past the pain, I pull my dress up past my thighs, bunching it around my hips. I didn’t wear underwear that night because I didn’t want to ruin the line of the dress even with a thong. And part of me was considering leaving the party early and calling Kent. If only that was the way it had gone, I wouldn’t be on the floor of a crystal cave trying to pleasure myself back to life.

  A little laugh hiccups in my chest. This is…I don’t know what this is. Impossible. The last thing that I ever imagined.

  Conjuring up the image of Kent, I try to recall one of the fantasies that I’d created for myself back in New York when life was normal and everything seemed simple. I wanted him to come into the shop just as I was closing so it was just the two of us, and he wouldn’t give me a chance to say anything, just kiss me. I wanted him to push me up against the cabinets with all my ingredients and not care about the damage that he did. His kiss would be raw and fiery, and neither of us would be able to wait to get to his place or mine. I imagine him pulling me into the back room, and that’s where I usually let the fantasy truly unfurl into heat and skin and lips and god, yes.

  Touching myself isn’t sexy right now. I’m wet, but just barely, and there’s no spark of excitement behind my touch. I feel blank even though I’m playing the familiar images of Kent slowly stripping me down, using his mouth to explore every new bit of my body before he takes me. My body doesn’t respond the way it usually does—the way it should or the way I want it to. I know that this needs to happen. It’s life or death. And that’s in my head.

  Being alone in this cave is terrifying. The reflections from the fire are dancing across the crystal facets creating shadows and phantoms that keep jumping in the corners of my vision. That taste of rotten citrus is rolling across my tongue and images of fog and birds and cruel eyes push out the vision of Kent and our sexy time.

  Closing my eyes, I force myself to focus. I can
do this. I know how to make myself feel good. I rub circles around my clit, spreading the small bit of moisture across it so there’s smooth friction. And it does feel good. But I’m kidding myself if I think it’s going anywhere.

  I think of Aeric and Brae. Verys too. They’re distractingly hot. Delicious. And I’ve had more than one moment with them where I felt like something was about to happen between us. But I can’t even get far enough to imagine them taking off their clothes, a spike of pain lancing up my spine and rendering me breathless.

  But I still try. I try, and I try, and I try. Until my hand is tired. Until I’m remembering past orgasms trying to get my body to do something. But nothing is working, and now all I feel is dizzy and that burning agony sizzling in my nerves. Sweat covers my skin and I’m sagging against the wall of the cave. It’s the only thing still holding me upright.

  I don’t think I can do this. Sudden tears blur my vision. I can’t even do this. The one thing I should be able to do to help myself, and I can’t. I’ve always hated feeling helpless, and this above and beyond anything I thought I could experience. The feeling is sharp between my ribs—the final blow.

  But I can’t let this be the thing that stands between me living and dying. A tear spills over, and I’m already flushed with embarrassment. I can’t believe that I’m going to do this. My mind spins through every possibility. Anything.

  But there’s nothing left.

  “Brae.” My voice is barely a whisper.

  He appears the way he left, coming around a twisting pillar of stone, and his eyes take in all of me: my state of disarray and the fact that I’m obviously not any better. “Are you all right?”

  I shake my head no. My body is burning with embarrassment now, heat and pain combined make me close my eyes. I turn my face away so he can’t see the tears that have fallen. I can’t look at him when I ask this. “Help me,” I say. “I can’t.”