Realms and Rebels: A Paranormal and Fantasy Reverse Harem Collection

by C. M. Stunich

Audax laced his fingers through mine. Once again the outline of my hand appeared. “Do you see it?” he whispered. “You shine. Where we touch.” A gentle finger skimmed over my brows, one after the other. “And here. Not even fully blooded, and you shine. You doubt your own beauty. But we see it. You shine for us, Mila.”

  “I do not believe in fate or dreams. I have said this.” Kunil’s hand kneaded the muscles at my neck. “And I can be stubborn. But I know treasure when I see it, whether you are a seer or not.” A roguish grin appeared and was gone in a moment. “I keep treasure.”

  I studied the three men kneeling before me. They offered me a new life and hope. They spoke words I had once wished to hear from a man who now called me an abomination, and yet I hesitated. Was it smart to not reach for what they offered—to hold myself away from them—or simply cowardice? Tears gathered, and I hated myself even more, disgust curling in my belly and bile burning the back of my throat.

  “You let her go!” The young voice hurtled toward us, and Kunil jerked forward.

  He reached back and pulled, then stood, holding his arm out as if he held a wiggling child. The child continued to struggle, small grunts and cries of “I told you” coming from her.

  Audax laughed, and Orel rolled his eyes. I trained my gaze on where Jamie hung from Kunil’s grip. I could almost see her, a little girl swinging punches at the giant gryphon. It startled a laugh from me, and I rose from my seat.

  “Jamie,” I said, reaching out. A little fist slammed into my forearm, and Jamie gasped.

  “I’m sorry, Mila. I didn’t hurt you, did I?” she asked. Again, I could almost see her dangling from her collar, the shirt bunching under her arms and a disgruntled expression on her face.

  “No. No, you did not hurt me. Jamie, what are you doing out of the nursery?” My hand found her head and stroked coarse hair off her forehead. I’d yet to figure out what her flaw was. And the overseers had yet to beat the fight out of her. Once, the girl had snuck into the corrals at suppertime and let all the sheep loose. No one had seen her, but I knew she’d been responsible. She had a distinctive giggle. Jamie was a spot of light in the compound.

  “I wanted to check on you. Everyone else is either sleeping or working or at the healers. You’re the only one I couldn’t find.” She grunted, her head shifting under my palm, and Kunil’s arm swayed the barest inch.

  “Well, you found me.” I patted Kunil’s wrist. “They’re not hurting me. Just the opposite. You know how sometimes you just have to let everything out?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, I don’t like to let just anyone see me get all blubbery. A person has to be pretty special for me to let them see my tears.”

  “Oh. That makes sense. I never let the overseers see me cry.”

  I swallowed. “No, we never let the overseers see us cry. These men, though, they’re not like the overseers. And I had a lot to let out.” I pressed on Kunil’s wrist, and he lowered his arm, setting Jamie on her feet. A pair of small arms wrapped around my hips, and I returned the gesture.

  “You were hurt real bad. I saw the blood.” Her thin arms dug into me.

  “And they fixed me up, good as new.” A new thought occurred to me, one I didn’t want to examine. My side had been bandaged, which meant at least one of them had seen the scars and the bruises. “Can you do something for me? You and the other children? Can you spread the word that we’re going to have a meeting after dinner? Everyone to the dining hall.”

  Her head nodded against my stomach. “I can do that.”

  “Good.” I stroked her head. “Now, get going, and let me finish here. There’s a lot to settle.”

  “Are we gonna help the other compounds? Kill the other guards and overseers?”

  I smiled down at her, wishing I could see her bloodthirsty little face. “Yes.” My heart sped, and blood rushed through my veins, carrying a burst of energy with it. Wild and angry Mila was back. I wanted her to stay. “Yes we are. Now get to it.” I let her go and gave her a little push. Jamie whooped and ran off, her feet falling in soft thuds on the packed earth of the path.

  I pulled my shoulders back and turned to Orel, then twisted to face Audax and Kunil. “I will think on the blooding.”

  They nodded. “You said you needed to interrogate the emissary,” I said to Orel. I was not going to call Jonathon by his name again. Or even think it from this point forward. “If you could delay long enough for me to bathe and find clean clothes, I would like to join you.” I was no longer the Mila of before, but I understood the importance of appearances. “Is there anything of yours I may… display? To show a united front, I mean.”

  A slow grin spread across Orel’s face. “You are going to say yes to the blooding.”

  “I didn’t say that. I said I would think on it.” Once more he was right. I would say yes to the blooding. But I couldn’t let them think I would always be so easily led.

  Audax snorted. “Never easy,” he whispered. I ignored him.

  Orel reached under the collar of his loose shirt and pulled out a leather cord. A talon hung from the end, similar to the gryphon’s but smaller, and bound with three feathers—one each of pale violet, gold, and copper. He placed the talisman in my hand but didn’t let go of the cord right away. “You will carry a piece of each of us.”

  I nodded, and he drew away. The pendant continued to glow in my palm.

  Audax held out an elbow. “Your bath awaits.” He waited. I placed the cord around my neck, and the three of them donned the same expression of satisfaction and victory. It seemed that whatever indecision had plagued Kunil was over.

  “This means nothing but that I want to show the emissary we hold a united front,” I said, my eyes narrowed at them. Then I tucked my hand in the crook of Audax’s elbow and let him lead me back to the overseers’ quarters.

  3

  The bath was lovely. The only hiccup came when Orel wanted to add scent oils to the water. They reeked of the old overseer, and I refused. I didn’t explain and Orel let it go, though I did notice that he and Audax exchanged a glance before leaving the room to me. Kunil hesitated, and when I said nothing more, he left with an admonishment to call if I needed assistance in the unfamiliar room.

  I didn’t. I had dealt with much more treacherous terrain than this bathing room.

  When done, I grabbed the towel from where Audax had left it. It was thick, the pile deep and absorbent, and I lingered for a few moments in the luxury. Soon I was dressed in fresh clothes that were only a little large with my combed hair styled in a simple braid. The pendant hung just above my breasts. The three feathers glowed, their colors mingling and a deeper purple surrounding them. Cradling them.

  I skimmed a finger along the small talon. I took comfort from having this piece of each of them with me, and that comfort gave me strength.

  Audax held out something to me. “Boots.”

  My toes curled into the pile of Old Britta’s rug. “No, thank you. I… enjoy the connection to the earth.”

  He nodded and bent to put them down. “Then, shall we?” He held out his arm, and I took it, once again allowing him to lead me from the room. When we reached the path, I tugged my hand from his elbow.

  “We’re holding him in the cells,” Orel said.

  I shuddered. I’d only been to the cells three times. Those were not memories I’d care to revisit. “I know the way.” I set out, blocking out the men and memories, and concentrated on my steps and the counts. Around me people worked, the crunch of shovels digging into sand and the swish of brooms telling me the cleanup continued strong. Not even a day, and most were back to what they knew. A few called my name, and I raised a hand to them, acknowledging the greetings, but didn’t stop. New purpose grew in me with each step. These gryphons claimed they could protect the flawed, my people now. We had been handed a chance—a slim one, yes, but a chance to change not just our own lives, but the lives of all those sent to the compounds. It wouldn’t be enough to simply claim the compounds. We’d
have to bring down the entire Citizens’ Improvement Initiative, if not the whole empire. It was not a small undertaking and may not happen in my lifetime, but a certainty grew in me that it needed to happen.

  “What are you thinking?” Orel’s smooth tones interrupted my thoughts and my step count. I stopped.

  “I’m wondering how committed you are to protecting this territory and if you realize the extent of what must be done to truly do so.” No reason to hold back now. I turned to him and grinned. “You say you believe in fate. How big do you want this fate to be?”

  He stared at me, a smile growing on his face, outlined in that pale light. “As big as you care to make it.”

  A throat cleared behind me, and I spun to meet Audax’s golden gaze. “And what of the rest of us in the coalition? Have we no say in this fate?”

  I tilted my head. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything about you except the crumbs that have been scattered, little bits of tempting information that won’t ever fill a belly.” I took a step toward him, drawn. “Do you have a say?”

  His head dipped down, stopping inches from mine. His scent filled my lungs, enticing. “No.” Then he straightened and stepped away, spinning so his back was to me.

  “And now you know how I have felt for the last seven years,” I said. Longer than that, I realized. When had I ever really had a say in where my life took me? Even my engagement had been my aunt’s idea, taking advantage of a childhood friendship. “Come. Let’s get you this information you need. And then we’ll meet with the others, make plans. If we are going to do this, really do this, you’re going to have to take on an entire empire, one way or the other.”

  I tucked a leg under me, the other swinging off the edge of the chair. An old pose from younger years, before propriety and then fear had dictated my actions. Funny how we take the little things for granted.

  “Not sure why you’re taking the side of these freaks,” the emissary said, directing his words to Kunil. “But believe me, the empire will crush you.”

  Kunil’s fist hit flesh. I flinched, then steadied myself, once more swinging my foot. Appearances, appearances.

  “Don’t kill him. We need him to carry the message,” Orel cautioned, not for the first time.

  “Only message I’ll carry is to come up here and wipe the compounds out. Not like we can’t simply start over elsewhere. Hell, it will solve more than one problem,” the emissary spat.

  My fingers twitched, and my foot went from swinging to tapping in the familiar rhythm of my weaving.

  The weaving. The wool. The spinning and the carding. “No,” I mused.

  Audax, standing next to Kunil, reached out and pushed. Jonathon grunted.

  “No, the empire won’t do that,” I said. “Not right away. It will take them time. They can’t risk losing the trade goods. It gives us time.” I stood. If we played this right, it could just work. “You will take a message back, emissary.” I stalked toward him, and something in me enjoyed it. I located him by the wheezing breaths and pounding of his heart. I circled him, light on my callused feet. “You will tell your superiors in the Citizens’ Improvement Initiative that we now control the compounds. If they come at us in force, we will retaliate.” I came to a stop beside Kunil. The large man rumbled a low growl with the edge of a higher pitch cry. “And as you have seen, that retaliation will be brutal. It took our new friends how long to take out you and all the guards and overseers? Fifteen minutes, if that?”

  “We were taken by surprise,” the emissary ground out.

  “And yet I doubt that even advanced warning would have made a difference.” I reached out, my hand finding hair soaked with sweat and blood. I gripped it, fighting off the urge to rip. My lips curled back, showing my teeth in a snarl I could barely contain. “We will destroy you.” My grip tightened, pulling a grunt from my former love.

  Releasing him, I pushed his head away. “Or we could call a treaty. Here are the terms. The empire will cede these lands, the compounds, and a surrounding five hundred acres in all directions. We will continue to produce the goods the empire needs in return for payment. You may continue sending your flawed to us. We will house them and care for them.” My breathing sped, the cold calm of my anger morphing to rage. “And if they do not agree, the winds will blow and the sands will come down and lay waste to the northern territories of the empire, all the way to Dogaru. And then the emperor will have the desert at his doorstep. He will have the creatures and the monsters and the flawed and the freaks staring him in his face day in and day out.”

  Heat rushed through me, and the scent of the desert at noon invaded my senses. Feathers rustled and claws scraped the wood floor. I reached out, encountering fur and hard muscle. Kunil had changed.

  The blood rushed in my veins, and my skin tingled. “That is the message you will take.” I turned my head, studying the play of copper light over wings held tight to Kunil’s massive body. My hand rested on his back near the spine, just below where feathers transformed to fur. Again I could see my own hand, outlined in a purple deeper than Orel’s.

  “Mila,” the emissary choked out, his heart pounding harder. The thrum of it beat through me. I inhaled, the sour scent of his sweat almost drowning out the spice of the gryphons.

  Audax’s hand shot out, and something snapped. “You no longer deserve to utter her name.”

  This time I didn’t flinch. No, I didn’t want the man before me dead, but Audax was correct. He no longer deserved to speak my name. He’d given up that right long ago.

  “We can send him on his way in the morning. No reason to keep him here longer than need be.” I held my hand out to Audax, who escorted me from the room. Once the door shut behind me, I sagged.

  Audax laid a hand over where mine rested on his forearm. I braced for discipline over my highhandedness in the interrogation.

  “You didn’t eat much of your meal earlier. From the looks of you, of everyone here, you can’t afford to skimp on your food. Let’s go get you something while Orel and Kunil wrap up. I think someone is arranging a light dinner before the meeting.” He set off, not waiting for a response. He kept his pace even and measured, matching my strides.

  “Did I just mess everything up?” My nails dug into him, and he gave my hand a pat.

  He gave a short laugh. “Far from it. Orel was right. Fate’s had a hand in this, and I am glad for it. I am sorry it took us so long to find you. Kunil and I were… stubborn.”

  The air was cooling. Evening was falling. “Food, and then strategy,” I said.

  “I hope this works,” he said, expressing his first sentiment of doubt. “We’ve had some trouble getting others to talk. They will do as asked, seeming almost eager to receive orders, but even Orel is having trouble getting them to open up. I can’t get much from…” He tapped his head. “At least, not anything of use.” He frowned down at the path, then glanced over at me. “I’ve not yet dealt with a situation quite like this. I expected more… anger, more fear. At us, at the empire. In general. This has been the most peaceful territory acquisition I’ve seen or heard of.”

  “Oh, the anger is there,” I said, even as my own surged. “As for fear, what have we to fear from creatures who stop the whippings, who attack the guards and overseers and then care for our wounds? We the people…” I slowed, then halted. The cooling breeze swirled around me, and a squeal of childish laughter rang in the distance. A sound I hadn’t heard much of. “Right now, everyone is... tired. In shock. We’re grateful for a reprieve. It won’t last. As I said, most have only ever known this life. They know their jobs, nothing more.” I stopped and drew my hand from his arm. Slowly, I turned to face him. “They will need protectors, yes. But they will need leaders as well.” I gazed into his golden eyes, trying to read him, to see into him as he was able to see into me.

  “Will you be that leader?” His brows pinched together.

  Would I? “Will you?” I asked.

  “No, we cannot. It is not our way.”

  �
��As you said, this is not a situation you have dealt with before.” This was important. The scene unfolded in my mind, almost like a dream. Or a vision. The gryphons would fight. The emperor would surrender to our demands. And these new protectors would fly away, leaving us to our lives. They would keep the enemies at bay and enforce policies and laws and rules. They would visit and solve disputes. But, we, the humans, would fail. With no clear leader, no one to handle the day to day, the fights would start. The other compounds would follow in the same path. Food, mostly grown in Saar, would not be distributed appropriately. The dyes and leathers of Parvana would go to waste. Robat, which gathered and processed the ingredients for the famed glasses made in Nairi, would gradually die away and be swallowed completely by the desert. Tirpul, which tended the trees and worms that produced the silk I wove, would also fall to ruin.

  Some would take advantage of those weaker than them and insert themselves into power, becoming that which once had abused them. They would fight the justice of the gryphons, and the compounds would be engulfed in sands for good.

  The compounds would fail. Unless someone led them, now. Not later, but now.

  Audax’s eyes swirled.

  “Do you see?” I asked.

  “Yes...” he whispered, his hand coming up to cradle my cheek. “Is this real?”

  “I do not know. But it is not far off of what would happen.” This I was sure of. “I cannot allow it to come to pass.”

  “We will not leave them to such a fate.”

  “But you will not lead.”

  A violet-white gryphon landed beside us, followed closely by a copper one. Soon, Orel and Kunil were with us in human form. “You ask us to rule,” Orel said. “We do not rule humans. We do not become involved in their politics. We protect and guard.”

  I opened my mouth to argue, and he held up a hand. “But we will ensure something is in place. Protection comes in many forms. If this is what our territory—and those in it—need, then this is what we will provide.”