A Forever Series Box Set: A Paranormal Reverse Harem: Books 6-10

by Eve Newton

  “How did She die?” I ask.

  “That is what you find more important right now?” she asks me.

  I shrug and say, “Seems significant under the circumstances.”

  “Hm, well that is a story for another time,” she says. Christ, this woman is about as unforthcoming as CK, only giving you precisely what you asked for. Bitch. Smart, but a bitch, nonetheless. I know I give far too much away. Another thing I should try to curb in the future.

  “Sooo,” she drawls, bringing my attention back to her, “I went to him and told him I would give it to him, but no way was he getting those ancient fangs anywhere near me. I drained myself to near death, well,” she snorts, “as it were, and gave it to him. It wasn’t exactly how he wanted it, but tough shit, I say. Be grateful for what you get, yes?”

  I nod in agreement and wonder why I never came up with this plan? Oh, yeah, because I was trying not to give him what he wanted because I didn’t want him to live. “I see,” I say. “Well, that would certainly have been preferable.”

  “No kidding,” she says. “So, I told you mine, now you tell me yours.”

  “I didn’t want to give him what he wanted and was doing a good job of avoiding him, until I was betrayed,” I say quietly, then curse myself for revealing that piece of information to her.

  Her ears perk up and I curse myself even more. “Betrayed?” she asks. “By who?”

  “Doesn’t matter,” I say. “Point is, I got lured into a trap, so to speak, and then he got me in his claws, and I was pretty much toast from that point on.”

  “Hm,” she says, annoyed that I won’t reveal my traitor. Probably more interested so she can keep an eye on her own for any traitorous behavior than out of concern for me. “Did it hurt?” she asks wickedly.

  “Obviously,” I say, indicating the bites and ignoring her tone.

  “Well, you look like Hell. I suggest you get healed up and back on the job. Factions, you know. They are always on the lookout for weakness.” She imparts this piece of “wisdom” matter-of-factly.

  “If I knew how to heal I would,” I say to her as if she is stupid. She looks back at me like I am and shakes her head.

  “God, you know nothing, do you? Where are all of your people?”

  “People?” I ask, a bit slow on the uptake after all this chitchat.

  “Yeah, your people. Your advisors and Witches and healers,” she says.

  “Huh?” I ask, now thoroughly out of the loop, once again.

  “Fuck’s sakes,” she mutters. “You seriously need to get your head in the game, sister.”

  “I have Corinne,” I say defensively.

  “Good, at least you have something. However, you need to man up your troops,” she says with all the authority of a five-star general.

  “I am not at war,” I say petulantly.

  “No, you are just a weak-assed fool that gets taken advantage of. Trust me, I have been doing this job for far longer than you have. And clearly better,” she adds. “How long ago did he bite you?”

  “Three months ago,” I say and stop her dead in her tracks. I steady myself for the lecture that is about to ensue, but she just stares at me, almost in pity.

  “Three months? And you haven’t healed?”

  I decide to reveal all as she seems to think she has vast knowledge and who knows? Maybe she can help. “I woke up from a three-month coma yesterday,” I say.

  “Coma?” she repeats in disbelief. “Shit!” she exclaims, sitting back in the chair again. “Shit.”

  “Yeah,” I say, knowing firsthand how surprised she is.

  “Well, let this be a lesson to you,” she says, having regained her superior attitude. “People,” she emphasizes with a prod to my desk.

  Gee, I should have known better than to expect anything more from her. I am really worn out now and I just want her to go. “Enough about me, why are you here?”

  “Oh yes,” she says as if she had forgotten her purpose. She pulls out a cream envelope and holds it up between her middle and index fingers. “I apparently have ‘errand girl’ stamped on my forehead today.”

  “Who is it from?” I ask, my stomach already tying itself into a series of small knots.

  “Three guesses,” she says and does not look very happy about it.

  “Look, Liv, I don’t want that. I don’t want to know what is in it,” I say, holding my hand up.

  “You should read it. It is quite informative,” she says casually, but I see the flash in her eyes.

  “You read it?” I ask, only somewhat surprised that she would be so rude.

  “Of course,” she scoffs at me. “You don’t really think I would come all of this way with a letter from my Fraser to you without having knowledge of its contents, do you?”

  I guess not.

  “Why on Earth would you bring me that?” I ask her.

  “Quid pro quo. And he wanted you to read it,” she says quietly. “In fact, he thought you would come to see him after he offered you what you wanted. I guess, at least, I can go home and tell him that you were in a coma for three months and that it had nothing to do with you not wanting to see him.”

  “I don’t want to see him,” I insist. “I never want to see him again. And I don’t want that letter.”

  “Ah, the lady doth protest too much, methinks,” she quotes Shakespeare to me and I cringe. She throws the letter onto my desk and it lands with a soft thump in front of me. I wring my hands to keep them from reaching for it and then place them firmly in my lap and regard her.

  “I don’t understand why you would bring it,” I say haughtily. “I mean, don’t you care that he is making offers and writing letters to me?”

  “What he wants with you is his own business,” she says brusquely. “I don’t interfere in his obsessions. Well, not anymore,” she adds with a sad look.

  “Liv,” I say to her, wanting to say more but I have no words. She adjusts her face to its usual lack of emotion and shrugs.

  “Read it, don’t read it. I don’t really care,” she says. “I delivered it, so my part in this is over.” She stands abruptly and puts her hands on her leather-clad hips. “Marigolds,” she says.

  “I beg your pardon?” I ask. Is that supposed to mean something to me?

  “Use blood-soaked marigolds on your wounds. It will draw out the poison and heal you,” she advises.

  “Marigolds? That seems far too simple. How come no one thought of that already?” I ask her even though she won’t have any idea.

  “Not just marigolds, blood-soaked marigolds. Use your sire’s, it will be most effective,” and with that said she disappears from my view.

  Never in a million years will I understand that woman. I sigh and pick up the letter she delivered. I want to rip it up and burn it, but some stupid, idiotic part of me carefully opens the envelope and pulls out the heavy, gold-embossed, cream paper and I start to read.

  ​Sweet Liv,

  I have thought of nothing and nobody, except you, since I came to see you. You are the sweetest perfection, everything that I want to take and cherish and yet ravage with this raging lust that is burning inside me, for you. Only you. You consume my thoughts to the point where no one else matters. I want to feel your silky skin as I caress you, and I want to feel your soft lips against mine as I kiss you. I want to see, in your enchanting green eyes, how much pleasure I give you as I make love to you gently, before I turn you around and take out my depravities on you.

  You are a constant source of confusion for me, a mix of paradoxes that makes my senses react in a way with which I have grown unfamiliar. You make my heart beat again after being still for so many years. You make my head ache with thoughts of you naked by candlelight, beads of hardened wax clinging to your body like drops of blood. Oh, I want to taste you, I want to drink from you, before you do the same to me.

  The need to see and feel and know all of this about you is driving me wild. We had but a few moments, but in those moments, I knew you. I want to s
ee you again. I need to see you again, Liv. Come to me. Come to me and I will be everything you want me to be and more. Come to me and you will love me, as I love you. Love. A word I have not used and meant in decades. Love. Something so foreign to me and yet you bring it out with your hesitation of me. I know you wanted to touch me; I saw it in your eyes. I wanted you to touch me, to kiss me, to lose your indecision and reluctance because I am not your true love. But I can be. I will be. Come to me my sweet, sweet Other. I will be everything you need and you, in return, will be the sire I have always wanted and needed.

  So, come to me and I will leave this place for yours. I will leave this world to be with you in yours.

  Fraser

  I carefully fold the piece of paper and insert it back into the envelope. I push it under the ink blotter, out of sight, and stand to go and find my husbands.

  Chapter 9

  Buckinghamshire, England, September 2013 – Constantine

  “Are you absolutely certain?” he asks Nico quietly.

  “Yes, sir,” Nico replies into the phone. “It tracks, I’m afraid.”

  “Very well, leave it with me to deal with,” Constantine says, clenching his fist.

  “Are you sure?” Nico asks.

  “Yes, this is a delicate situation. I will handle it. I assume I don’t need to remind you that if Aefre hears about this in any way whatsoever before I am ready to tell her, it will be your head.” Constantine hears Nico gulp at the threat, and it pleases him. He is fond of Nico. Very fond of him. He is without doubt one of the only three people in this world that he cares about. Not that he would ever admit that to him, or anyone else for that matter, but he would protect him at all costs, has done so many times, but it still pleases Constantine to know that Nico hasn’t lost all of his fear of him.

  “Of course,” Nico murmurs and Constantine hangs up. This is an interesting turn of events. He has no idea quite what to do with the news. First things though, he is going to confront Cole about it. This serves two purposes: one, he wants Cole to know that he knows his secret and two, to ensure that it is in fact accurate intel. Nico has never let him down, but this is a rather enormous occurrence and he has to be absolutely certain of the facts before he tells all to his beautiful wife. He still can’t believe his luck that she forgave him his actions and came back for him. He had his serious doubts that she would, but he should have known that she wouldn’t abandon him. She can’t stay away from him any longer than he can stay away from her. The mere fact that Cole suggested and entered into this arrangement is proof of how afraid he is that Aefre will leave him. This was his way of ensuring his future with her and it was a smart move on his behalf. Constantine never would have given him enough credit to think it up on his own.

  Aefre must have had some influence over his decision, although she looked as surprised as he felt when Cole brought it up. One thing that makes Constantine angry, apart from the fact that he has to share her still, is the fact that since they got married, he has spent two days with her. Well, two days where she has been awake. It is unacceptable and if he ever gets his hands on Remiel, he will kill him, regardless of his ‘Primary’ status.

  Ugh, he scoffs silently.

  Primary Vampire.

  What a kick in the gut that was.

  And one that every one of Aefre’s boys seemed more than delighted to tell him once they discovered what happened to her. No longer the top of the pecking order, it seems. He should have been expecting it, in all honesty. There was a cursory mention of them in the book that Tiamat wrote and that he is still trying to find the time and effort to translate. He didn’t really understand the context at the time, but it makes perfect sense now. He is still desperate to undo Sebastian’s turning. Even more so now that he has formed an attachment with Aefre.

  There is nothing he can do about this whole disgusting Fae business, but he sure as Hell will try to do something about the Vampire side. He always has to be in control, and he will find a way to take away the Vampire in Sebastian. He will lose his charge, but he has long since come to realize that the only one that really, truly matters to him is his sweet Aefre. He has an infatuation with Sebastian, of course. A love for him that goes back millennia. But he knows it can be squashed as long as he ends up with the only thing he wants.

  And he has.

  He will bide his time and in due course, push Cole completely out of this relationship. He will take back what is rightly his and this time it will be forever. Her relationship with Devon is tenuous at the moment and all he needs to do is give it the necessary tug to break it, which he will do when the time is right, he already knows how. And he isn’t unduly worried about Cade. The man seems quite happy to end his life, so Constantine will let him do it. The less he has to be directly involved in these betrayals, the better. He has done, and will continue to do, everything he can to break her tie to every single one of these creatures that has a hold on her. He hates it. He hates the treachery. He has lived through what it does to them when she finds out and he knows he has run out of chances. He offered up his own penance after she found out about the spelling. He offered her something he knew she wouldn’t refuse but see as acceptable. Something that she knew was so difficult for him, that she could understand he was repentant for his sins. She can never, ever find out that he continues in his efforts and he will ensure that it stays that way. This new information on Cole is the perfect stake to aim straight at him, as soon as he is ready. He cannot look too eager to share. He must take it slowly and make sure that he doesn’t get caught in the crossfire.

  He regards himself in the mirror and straightens his shirt cuffs. He will never get used to the casual look that everyone adopts around here. Aefre has become more and more idle with her appearance as of late and he must rectify that. He doesn’t like her wandering around looking like a teenager. She is a woman, a Queen, and she needs to start dressing the part. At least he has complete control over that now, he muses. Once she is healed, he will make sure her sartorial neglect is addressed. He frowns then as he thinks about her wounds. It is a grave concern for him that they aren’t healing. She is weak and that won’t do. He needs her strong and able and this fragility must go. It unnerves him. Makes him think back to when he rescued her from Lance, and she was completely frail and defenseless. He loves taking care of her, make no mistake about that, but he loves it when he knows it is an option, not a necessity. He will die for her if need be. He will protect her with everything that he has, but it reassures him to know that she can look after herself. Well, most of the time. She attracts trouble more than any other person he has ever known. He sighs and turns around as she enters the room.

  “Like what you see?” she smirks weakly at him, catching him having a moment of vanity, and he smiles at her.

  “I do now,” he says and bends down to kiss her. He daren’t touch her in case he hurts her, and it is killing him. He wants to make love to her so badly, he doesn’t think he can hold back another minute. That, however, he is certain will be off the table for a while. He likes his participants to be actively involved, and she is most definitely not up to scratch.

  “You are too sweet,” she replies. “And a liar. Move, I want to see.”

  “Err,” he says and blocks her way with a frown. She won’t like what she sees and why cause her more pain?

  “Move!” she says with more force and he steps to the side knowing she will see eventually. The look of horror on her face at her ghastly appearance makes him want to both laugh at her own vanity, but also take her in his arms and comfort her.

  “Seriously?” she asks, bringing her hand up to her sunken cheeks. She peers closer and traces the deep black circles under her eyes. Her skin is a sickly yellow color and she is even more gaunt than her natural state. “Jesus,” she whispers and turns her back. He takes pity on her at her mournful gaze and he does hold her then. She clings to him and he is happy. He sweeps her up into his arms and carries her to the bed.

  “Rest, Aefre. That
is the only thing we can do for now,” he says.

  “No,” she shakes her head. “Blood-soaked marigolds.”

  “Excuse me?” Constantine asks her.

  “Other Liv said to soak marigolds in your blood and put them on the bites. It will draw out the poison and heal them,” she explains.

  “Other Liv?” he says in disgust. “You have seen her?” He cannot stand that woman. She is vile and repulsive and everything that he never wants his own dear charge to be.

  “Mm, she paid me a visit earlier,” she says evasively.

  What is she hiding this time? Always with the secrets. He wishes with a grimace that he had that telepathic connection to her that Lincoln has. At least he would know her every thought and there would be nothing she could hide from him.

  “…so, after she got through berating me, she told me about the marigolds,” Aefre says and he realizes he has missed half of her explanation due to his errant thoughts.

  “Oh, well. I am not sure we should take anything that woman has to say at face value. What if it is the opposite and it hurts you further?” he says.

  “Why would she want to do that?” she asks, puzzled, and he mentally shakes his head at her. Far, far too trusting for her own good. She always has been. He, personally, wouldn’t trust Other Liv an inch, especially with regard to Aefre’s life. And he hates it when she is called “Other Liv.” As far as he is concerned, she is just “Liv.” His charge is Aefre. He will never think of her any other way, ever again.

  “Because she is an evil, distasteful creature that would probably find entertainment in your further destruction,” he says and she looks upset by his words, but she has to know.

  “Well, we have no other options, so I want to try it. If it fails, then I can’t actually feel any worse than I already do. Please, my love. Arrange it.” She touches his cheek and looks at him with that look that melts his heart and heats up other parts of him. He would do anything for her when she looks at him like this. Against his better judgment, he nods at her and says, “I will get Jess to sort it.”