Defenders_Sons of Olympus_Reverse Harem Romance

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Defenders_Sons of Olympus_Reverse Harem Romance Page 2

by Helen J Perry


  “A temperature thing, or something.” Odelia scowled and shuddered again. “It sometimes happens, all right? Especially when it’s all weird and dark and damp, like in the woods. You don’t need a swamp to have mist.”

  “I’m not so sure,” Rhett said uneasily. “Whatever. We’ve got our pictures. Let’s go. The Pipsqueak can deal with the mist all on her own.”

  Lauren squirmed against the ropes, trying to get them to go slack. “You can’t leave me here.”

  Thankfully, they weren’t recording her. She sounded pathetic and scared. Stuck and desperate it seemed worth begging Odelia to change her mind, even though Lauren guessed it wouldn’t work.

  “Stop complaining,” Odelia snapped. “We haven’t gagged you. You’ve been pretty good so far. I thought you were learning something after all.”

  Despite it all, Lauren stood strong, attempting to conceal her fear. She wouldn’t let them think they’d won. Even though it seemed they had.

  “Let’s go,” Odelia said brusquely, and she turned as if to leave.

  “We all bow down to the Almighty Uptight Underbite,” Rhett teased, sweeping into a low bow as he backed away. “The only kid in town whose eyes are as messed up as her head is. You’re a total package, aren’t you?”

  The bullies all laughed at the joke.

  Odelia turned again and took a step toward Lauren. “Yeah, a total package. The only way she’s getting some love action is face down, ass in the air. No one’ll get off while looking at a face like that.”

  Lauren let the words roll off her shoulders. She considered herself attractive, in an unconventional way. Slender and neat, she’d never had the cheerleader aesthetic, but she had a good figure and sometimes dressed nicely. Apart from the subtle difference between her two eyes, there was nothing abnormal about her.

  It didn’t matter what Odelia and her gang said about her. They weren’t Lauren’s type, anyway. Although, at that moment whether anyone would ever crush on her took second place to the more pressing concern of whether she’d live to see freedom and then find the love of her life.

  Odelia turned again and set off toward home with her entourage close by. “Catch ya later, Pipsqueak,” she called out without looking back.

  As Odelia, Jill, Jason, and Rhett left, Lauren closed her eyes and worked through a silent mantra. Their destructive words were intended to harm, not meant to tell the truth. She shouldn’t take anything they said seriously, and she internalized the thought over and over.

  She was worthwhile. She was worthy. She was important.

  When the sound of their footsteps faded into nothing, Lauren opened her eyes again. She was well and truly alone.

  “What are you going to do?” she asked nobody in a whisper, finding comfort in hearing her words out loud against the sounds of the night. She strained against the ropes. “There’s got to be something. You can figure it out. There’s a way to get out of this. C’mon, c’mon…”

  Working her shoulders back and forth, Lauren squirmed, trying to duck down. When it failed, she planted her feet against the base of the tree and tried to push herself forward.

  The ropes didn’t give.

  Of course, they didn’t, and Lauren found it a challenge to focus on the positive right then.

  There wasn’t much to be positive about in her life as a poor orphan.

  A teenager with few prospects and mediocre grades.

  Humiliated by bullies. Embarrassed and degraded no matter what happened. Whether they came back and rescued her, or whether other people discovered her in this predicament.

  Life was shit.

  She didn’t try yelling. It would most likely be a waste of breath and energy with no one around.

  She could wait until the next morning. Someone on the football field might hear her, but even that was a stretch. They had taken her so deep into the forest Lauren doubted her calls would travel beyond it.

  She was worthwhile. She was worthy. She was important.

  She had to remind herself. She whispered the words of her mantra out loud. She had to survive.

  Lauren breathed in deep and held it, then exhaled slowly. Panic mounted inside her, much as it wouldn’t help.

  The more she wore herself out, the worse it would be. While she was still able to master calm logic it was imperative she work out a solid plan. Flailing and screaming didn’t make a good plan and might get her hurt. Without access to water, her throat would dry out, and she wouldn’t be able to call out later.

  She wouldn’t survive long without water anyhow. Lauren had to play it smart and use her brain, the one and only tool she had.

  The forest wasn’t going anywhere; she wasn’t going anywhere. Unless those jackasses returned, which seemed unlikely, help wouldn’t arrive until morning at the earliest.

  A fresh worry formed and took hold of her troubled mind. First and foremost, she needed to relieve the pressure building in her bladder. Already utterly humiliated by everything that had happened in these woods, Lauren didn't want to add to the ordeal. She didn't like the thought of being found with urine-soaked pants and ammonia burns to her legs. Dead or alive.

  “All right,” Lauren said, bolstering herself. “It’s easy. Your hands are—” She stretched her fingers. Her hands were so close and yet, not close enough. She didn’t have the dexterity required to reach and do anything useful.

  A branch snapped, and Lauren fell silent. Whatever had broken it sounded much heavier than a squirrel. What kind of creatures lived deep in the woods?

  Bears. Coyotes. Wolves.

  Lauren stopped thinking about it. Instead, she kept still and turned her head toward the noise. A pair of eyes flashed in the gloom, eyes that were distinctly animal.

  “God,” Lauren whispered, unable to help herself. She strained against the rope, but it wouldn’t budge. “Please, please don’t do this.”

  The eyes came closer. If it weren't for the pale moonlight that made its way through the foliage overhead, Lauren never would have seen them. She wasn't sure what kind of animal they were.

  “I will kick you,” Lauren warned. She kicked out her feet to show she meant trouble, but it only stopped the animal in its tracks, not turn it around.

  A second set of eyes joined it, both of them glinting in the shadows. Then another. Fur, shimmering like still water under starlight, drew Lauren’s eye. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness of night, she saw them more clearly.

  Magnificent creatures.

  Wolves?

  CHAPTER THREE

  Movement caught Lauren’s attention. While she hadn’t been looking, three more wolves had approached her other side. They formed a semicircle surrounding the tree. They gazed at her as though curious and afraid to get close.

  “That’s right. I’ll kick you.” Although shaken, she tried to sound confident. “I’ll kick you, and it’ll hurt.”

  Having never seen an actual wolf up close before, Lauren thought these creatures might not be wolves but some other type of wild dog. They were big for foxes but small for wolves.

  That’s right; they were dogs. Or wolves? She couldn’t tell. In terror, she wanted them to be intelligent domesticated dogs.

  Lauren expected them to charge and braced herself for the assault.

  If these were her last few moments alive, Lauren wanted to make sure they counted. She took a minute to breathe in the fresh night air, crisp and humid, perfumed with wild flowers and fallen leaves. She savored the rough feeling of bark against her skin, taking time to appreciate it all. The beating of her heart drowned out most of the noises of the forest, but when Lauren focused, she heard the chirp of crickets and the buzz of nighttime insects.

  If only for a second, she distracted herself from the danger and said goodbye to a world far more beautiful than she’d noticed before.

  Mist swirled around her feet, it danced, alive despite the still air.

  The wolves cocked their heads as if they were thinking. Or listening. They may have heard something bec
ause seconds later they ran away.

  The mist thickened. It rolled into the clearing like ghostly tumbleweed spinning over the ground. It rose as it swirled in tendrils and parted.

  Parted?

  Wondering if it were a trick of the light, Lauren squinted. There was no mistake. Moonlight streamed into the small section of forest with startling intensity and revealing the strange parting in the mist.

  A pathway to Lauren.

  Farther, into the forest, the shadows moved.

  Large, dark shapes.

  Something was out there, nearby and approaching her. Something or someone? A different shade of blackness moved through the dark just beyond the nearest trees. She sensed it as it approached her.

  The dogs had probably heard it and fled in fear.

  Whatever frightened away a pack of wolves couldn't be good.

  Helpless, hopeless, and restrained, Lauren had never been more afraid in her whole life.

  The gang who put her there could have been brutal, they could have raped or killed her. Even though they hadn't, they had left her tethered for someone else to finish the job.

  And here they were.

  Three men emerged from the night. They appeared every bit as terrifying as she’d feared.

  Leather biker jackets hung open atop bare flesh. It may have been due to the heat of the night, not one T shirt between them. Bare chests, tattooed torsos, closely cropped hair and partly shaven heads all added to the appearance of a menacing gang.

  You'd not want to annoy these men. They might be bikers or gang members. They certainly didn't look like lawyers or accountants.

  All three wore low slung jeans held up by thick belts. But it wasn’t the moonlight reflecting of the metal off belt buckles and earring that caught her attention but one of them carried a length of thick chain. It looked heavy, but he showed no awareness of its weight.

  Lauren was at the total mercy of the men.

  Silently they moved toward her along the path created by the mist. Despite their size and their confident posture, they made no sound as they walked toward her.

  Lauren didn't hear their footfall, not even the snapping of a twig or the crunching of dried leaves beneath their boots. Nothing but silence.

  In her desperate situation, fear gave way to an unlikely sense of hope. These three men might rescue her. On the face of it, they looked like trouble, but there was something about the tall men. She couldn’t believe her eyes. She didn't recognize them but felt that she should.

  Familiarity washed through Lauren, gripping her chest so hard, it hurt.

  Not only did Lauren’s mind struggle to recall, but her heart ached for the memory, too.

  It wasn’t just the men, either, but everything about this weird setting. The mist, the ancient forest, the damp scent of moss, even the dogs.

  Lauren’s lips parted, but she had no words to speak. She froze.

  The sense of purpose, of destiny, that Lauren had harbored for so long tugged with more force than it ever had before.

  The figures stopped several feet away, and they looked Lauren over.

  She sobbed, and she had no idea why. She couldn’t help it. Of course, her predicament was reason enough. The relief of being found alive and the surreal, ghostly environment may have been the cause of the strange churning emotions that Lauren didn’t understand.

  The tears came suddenly and all at once. She struggled against her ropes as fat tears rolled down her cheeks. The mist. The wolves. The men. All of it seemed natural and commonplace as if she recognized it well from living here.

  One of the men lifted a hand, his fingers extended as if he were about to conduct an orchestra. For better or worse, something was about to happen. Lauren wept, fighting to free her hands. Her attempts were in vain. The man extended the hand slowly toward the tree, pointing a single finger and stepping closer.

  He moved with grace and nobility as if the smallest of his movements bore significance.

  No, as if the smallest of his movements wielded enormous power.

  Lauren knew this but wasn’t sure how.

  The other men followed close behind him, flanking him at either side.

  They approached Lauren. All three intimidating and towering above her. She continued to look forward at their chests, not daring to look them in the eyes.

  Stopping inches from her, the man to the right held a knife in front of her eyes. She hadn't seen him get it out, but these dudes seemed the sort who'd carry a concealed arsenal.

  She swallowed.

  Before her dry mouth could form words, he bent down. The binding around her legs strained, then fell slack. He then cut at the tethers around her wrists and finally her torso. So sharp was the implement that it sliced through them like butter and they dropped away. She heard a dull thud as the rope hit the ground.

  Lauren stumbled as her legs took her weight once more.

  Practicality urged her to run and not look back, but the sickening nostalgic part of her mind and the beating of her heart begged her to stay.

  Still sobbing and struggling with her dilemma, she remained stationary, frozen and unable to flee.

  The men stood, silent and stoic, in front of Lauren for a long while. Surely this had to be a dream? She had to be hallucinating. This could not be real.

  Finally, Lauren lifted her head, the last of her tears streamed down her cheeks. The men were close enough to touch.

  Inexplicably, as if with a mind of its own, Lauren’s right hand reached up to the bristled jawline of the man on the right. He had tattoos on his chest and stomach, but partly covered by his jacket she couldn’t make them out in the eerie moonlight. She wanted to ask him about them. For him to remove his jacket and enable a better look.

  His stubble was softer than it appeared. If eyes are a window to the soul when she focused on him she saw a gentle giant under the menacing exterior.

  He let out a soft low hum so quiet she didn't so much hear it as sense it reverberate through their physical contact. For that moment, there was just the two of them connected.

  It made no sense.

  He'd set her free, that was all.

  There was no logical explanation for why she felt a profound connection with him. Nor for the way he looked at her, as if with love.

  His hands trailed across Lauren’s cheeks, wiping away any remaining moisture until his fingers encircled the back of Lauren’s head. The man cupped Lauren’s head tenderly in his palm, like a lover might after a long time apart. It should have felt weird, invasive, wrong. It didn’t.

  When the man leaned down and kissed her, he stole the breath from Lauren's lungs and the strength from her knees. Lauren surrendered to him and kissed back, enchanted. The touch, the kiss, the stranger, it all felt right as if they had met already and a long-term commitment existed between them.

  All else around them faded into insignificance. The trees, the onlooking strangers, the imminent danger, all gone.

  The way the man touched Lauren with reverence and kissed with passion… it was something amazing and new for her. It felt as if they were longtime lovers reunited after spending time apart. He even tasted familiar, a little like fresh salad leaves.

  His arms enveloped her and she felt so small and fragile wrapped within his powerful strength. Even so, she trusted him. Instinctively, she trusted him more than anything. Her heart beat fast, heavy and full.

  “Sleep,” the man whispered against Lauren’s lips, his voice like a lullaby long forgotten.

  Lauren submitted to the magic and knew no more.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  A warm fire crackled close to Lauren’s head, and she woke with a start. She rolled back as her eyes focused. A fire burned a short distance from her and hefty hearthstones surrounded it.

  Lauren lay on what appeared to be a handcrafted, timber-framed bed. It was much larger than any back home and dominated the room. Soft blankets were piled high at one end.

  Next to her, a dozing fox-wolf-dog lifted its head
lazily, looked at her with amber eyes, before dropping its head back down. A second dog lay curled at the end of the bed and didn’t wake when Lauren stirred.

  What the hell was going on?

  The animal at Lauren’s side rolled over, exposing its belly and pressing up against her. Lauren decided they must be dogs. Exceptionally well-trained ones at that. She recalled their behavior when they’d found her bound to a tree.

  She ran her hands through the animal’s thick, coarse fur. Its tongue lolled, hanging at the corner of its mouth. It panted as Lauren scratched its stomach and looked as if it were smiling.

  Wherever this place was, it wasn’t home. Nothing like.

  The fireplace was in the middle of the room, beyond sat a timber bench, and in the wall beyond that, an untreated, unpainted wooden door was the only point of entry; it was closed. Wooden shutters on the walls suggested a window lay behind.

  The whitewashed, rough plaster walls added to the rustic, makeshift appearance of the place.

  The room contained little furniture, apart from the bed and the wooden bench. A rickety shelf held some used copper cookware and a few ancient-looking dishes. The strangest feature was a stash of weapons, swords, axes, chains, and two round shields against the wall furthest from the door. What ever it was used for, it seemed this were a temporary camp with no evidence of commodities, no overhead lighting, no electricity, no… no nothing.

  Despite how strange and basic it appeared, it felt warm and cozy, with a familiar, homey scent about it.

  Lauren settled back onto the bed and nestled against the wolf-like dog, finding comfort in being so close to such a strong and fierce looking animal.

  “Where did the rest of you go?” Lauren asked as she stroked its belly. “There were so many of you before.”

  “They came with me.” The voice from the doorway made Lauren’s heart skip a beat.

  She lifted her head. One of the men who’d rescued her came entered carrying a bag over his shoulder and that was all. Totally all. He wore no clothes. Not even shoes.

 

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