Dark Pact: A Reverse Harem Fantasy Romance (Her Dark Guardians Book 1)

by Alana Serra

  Caught off guard, he severed the connection. “Sorry, I should have… let you know I was going to do that. Asked first.”

  His cheeks were flaming and he fixed his eyes skyward, walking over to one of the righted bookcases and manually retrieving a book from the floor to shelve it.

  “It’s fine,” she said quickly, obviously flustered. “I just wasn’t expecting it.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her brush a strand of hair out of her face. “I feel better now. Thanks.”

  She continued in awkward silence, and Wesley tried to make himself useful, examining some of the tomes that seemed to resonate more strongly with magic. So many of them were fairly mundane, in the grand scheme of things. Magical effects that would help the fortress run more efficiently, a few basic guides that could be used to train troops, and some books that didn’t concern magic at all. Nothing that powerful, which was… disappointing.

  “Well, the good news is, none of these are cursed,” he said, breaking the thick silence that hung between them. “None of them are especially useful, either.”

  She finished with another bookcase—one of the last—and looked over at him. Sweat beaded at her brow and her hair had fallen into her face again. Wesley tamped down the urge to brush it back. He didn’t need to touch her again, and he certainly didn’t need to experiment with energizing magic and why it’d made her respond in such a way.

  “What’s the difference between a cursed tome and an evil tome?” she asked, scrutinizing one of the shelves nearest her.

  It was good for him to remember that she was painfully naive in some ways. New to all of this, though she’d expressed a willingness to learn.

  “There’s no such thing as an ‘evil tome.’ It’s all in how the knowledge within is applied.” He considered her for a moment, abandoning the books. “That’s what you’re trying to prove, isn’t it? With this defiance of Aeredus? That just because you wield magic gifted by a Dark God, that doesn’t mean you have to pursue harmful paths?”

  “Right,” she said with a frown, reaching up to touch the brand at her neck.

  “Magic isn’t inherently good or evil, Rhia. Some part of you must believe that.” He stepped closer to her, wanting desperately to impart that truth, even if he wasn’t sure he fully believed it himself. “It’s all in the wielder’s purpose.”

  She looked up at him, her dark blue eyes searching his. For a moment, he felt as if they were already pacted with one another—as if she could see into him and know the frightened boy that cowered beneath. The boy who’d just tried to do the right thing, to wrestle back power from those who had too much of it, to save the people who mattered.

  “What is your purpose, Wesley?”

  Some part of him wanted to answer, to tell her exactly what he was seeking. But to give her that information would be to give up what limited power he had in this situation. He needed to wait until she decided to pact with him. Otherwise it would be yet another one-sided situation, just like the deal he’d made with Aeredus.

  A deal not unlike the one she’d made. The one she wanted to break.

  “You’ll never be able to break free of his hold, you know.” There was a sadness in his voice; an acceptance of what his own life had become. “Breaking a pact with Aeredus… it’s just not done.”

  She lifted her chin, her eyes blazing with determination. “I’ll find a way.”

  “You don’t think I’ve tried?” The words hissed out, backed by more pain than he’d ever wanted to show her. “It’s… a symbiotic relationship, Rhia. Impossible to have one without the other, and mutually beneficial in a way that can’t be escaped.” He stepped closer, his voice lowering. She didn’t flinch away from him, though Wesley was of the mind that she should have. “The power he gives… it’s addicting.”

  “You don’t seem like an addict to me,” she said softly.

  Wesley let out a dark chuckle, his hand lifting unbidden to brush back that strand of hair that fell over her forehead. Rhia shivered at his touch.

  “Addicts are very good at hiding their addiction.”

  “Are you saying I shouldn’t trust you?” she asked, an edge to her voice that sounded more like intrigue than fear.

  God help him.

  “I’m saying that what I am now? It’s inevitable.” He drew in a sharp breath, trying to get ahold of himself. Something stirred within him, something dark and predatory that skulked at the edges of his consciousness. He pushed it back as hard as he could, but remained close to her. Too close. “You were an orphan living on the streets, respected by no one. Now you’re the most powerful mortal on this plane. You cannot tell me that won’t go to your head.”

  “I don’t intend to let it.” The words came out in a breathy tone as Wesley’s hand followed the curve of her jaw down to her neck, his fingers lingering on that brand.

  Why was he so drawn to her? Even as he felt that unquestionable need to protect her, he also wanted… more. To have her. Possess her. Be possessed by her in turn. He’d never wanted anyone in this way before. Not so much that he was tempted to abandon all reason.

  It must be something inherent in the relationship between the Dark Lady and her guardians. All of the knowledge Aeredus had given him seared through his mind in an instant, but he couldn’t sort through it. He could barely think at all with her so close. It should have been terrifying, considering how much he relied on his mind. But Wesley found it intoxicating.

  “I’ll never become that. You don’t have to worry.”

  Such simple words, spoken so earnestly. They were enough to pour an ocean’s worth of ice-cold water over whatever was happening to him. Wesley stepped back, nearly gasping as if he had come up for air. He looked away from her, consumed with one thought above all else: If she was so resolute, if she could actually defy Aeredus… what did it say about him that he couldn’t?

  “Well, that’s what we’re here for,” he said, his voice strained.

  “Wesley, are—”

  “Thank you for the help. I’ll have a look through these and see if there’s anything of use. I’ll just pull out the most interesting tomes for you to look through later.”

  She lingered long enough that Wesley could feel his resolve cracking. But finally she nodded, then turned toward the door. “If you need anything else, I’ll be around.”

  He listened for the sound of her footsteps receding down the hall. When he heard them, he let out the breath he’d held, his eyes closed. “You can’t give me what I need,” he said softly, then went back to searching through the endless sea of books, hoping they could.

  Chapter 12

  Though Wesley’s warning left her somewhat rattled, Rhia sought solace in making the rest of Ebonhold a more livable place.

  It was something she’d practiced since childhood. On the rare occasion some space belonged to her—no matter how small—she made it her own, personalizing it as she could so that it could be a sanctuary when everything else in the world was too much to take. She’d never expected to have an entire keep to work with, but “everything else in the world” had never seemed quite so vast and menacing before.

  In the eyes of people like Desmond, she was the enemy. Deep down, she knew the first impression she gave was almost always going to be the one the villagers got. It was the same assumption she’d made in the past and was still making now in asking Wesley how one could tell the difference between evil and cursed tomes. She still felt a little foolish about that, but everything she’d ever heard expressed a clear line between what was good and what was evil, and it was going to take time to unlearn that.

  It did help to be surrounded by three men who weren’t… good, certainly. Not by the standard definition the guild might employ. Karak especially was everything the guild would have hated and hunted, yet he seemed to be the most kind and grounded of the group. If anything it was Liam who behaved the most egregiously—the man who’d once been a paladin, the very epitome of good.

  It didn’t surprise her that Karak
’s focus in the keep—after ensuring her chambers were to her liking—was to clear and refurnish the barracks, training yard, and other communal areas that served a purpose beyond just housing people. If he’d led his people in that “assault” on the village, then he had a head for battle tactics that Rhia could use in the future. Each of them seemed to have their own strengths, though she wasn’t entirely sure what Liam’s were yet and wasn’t eager to figure them out with how he was acting.

  But Karak was strangely comforting to be around. She felt safer with him than she did with any of the others. She knew instinctively that they’d all protect her, but she got the sense that Karak was intensely focused on her state of mind and emotional well-being, in a way no one else ever had been. When she grew frustrated as they were restoring Ebonhold, he offered an alternate route to what she wanted to accomplish. When she was so focused she forgot to eat or sleep, he was the one to make sure she had what she needed. It was something she never would have expected from a half-orc, but she was glad for it.

  And that was why, after several days of working tirelessly, she was glad when Karak sought her out. She’d been in the courtyard, contemplating the destroyed flowerbeds and what might possibly grow in this region. While it wasn’t as barren as she’d been led to believe, the types of flora that called this place home were completely alien to her.

  As soon as she noticed Karak, his tall, broad form easily visible despite the overgrown tangle of weeds, she smiled and beckoned him over. “Karak. I was hoping I could get your opinion on something.”

  “Of course, Lady.”

  Rhia still felt a twinge of discomfort every time he called her that, but it was fading, ever-so-slowly. She knew it was a sign of respect and honestly, when it came from him, she didn’t mind it so much.

  “What grows well in this area? I want to plant a proper garden. Herbs for potions and cooking, of course, but also just something to brighten up the place. This whole keep is so…”

  “Painfully oppressive?” he supplied, a gleam in his amber eyes.

  “Exactly the words.” Rhia grinned at him. “‘Suffocating’ would have also worked.”

  “It’s not what I would call homey, no.” He looked up at the spires that scraped the sky before his gaze returned to her. “But I think we can brighten it up a bit.”

  He spent ten minutes telling her all about the various species of flora that would give the garden some much-needed life and color. It was surprising, seeing such a large, intimidating man talk about flowers. But surprising in a good way, and Rhia found herself listening with rapt attention, save for the times when her mind wandered to places it shouldn’t. Thoughts about how he actually was quite handsome, something she never would’ve expected to think about an orc. There was a regal shape to his face, a strength in his jaw, and something comforting in the way he looked at her. She was even beginning to find those little tusks more cute than alarming, and wondered again what it might feel like to be kissed by someone with them.

  A silly thought, and while she couldn’t say it was unlike her, she was a bit overwhelmed by how often she thought of her guardians in this way. Part of her suspected it was Aeredus’ doing, but she wasn’t prepared to heap all responsibility onto him. Besides, if she wasn’t in control of her own mind, her own lustful responses, then she truly was lost.

  “There are healers in my clan who would know more on the herb side of things,” Karak said, drawing her attention back to what actually mattered. “In fact, I was… recently paid a visit by one of them.”

  Rhia knew a segue when she heard one. She arched a brow, then motioned to a stone bench that remained intact despite much of the space around it having crumbled. Sitting down, arranging the skirt of her dress to not be indecent, she motioned for Karak to join her. It was astounding just how much space he took up compared to her, and again she had to stop her mind from wandering down a less productive path.

  “Is that what you came here to talk to me about?”

  “It is,” he gave her a sheepish smile, the corner of his lip catching on one tusk. “I was visited this morning. I told my clan I would speak to you, but we’ve been so busy with preparing the keep that I haven’t had the chance. I also… wanted to give you some time to adjust. It seemed like you needed it.”

  She gave him a grateful smile, something in her heart stirring at the fact that he cared enough to not only notice her distress, but to try and alleviate it.

  “Unfortunately, the humans were quicker to retaliate than I expected.” A shadow passed over his expression, his countenance turning grim. “They burned the temporary camp my clan had at the edge of the forest. Normally this wouldn’t be a problem, but our supplies were low enough as-is, and they made sure to torch everything.”

  Rhia sucked in a breath, guilt spiraling inside of her. Would this have happened had she not tried to intervene? It was possible, but it seemed just as likely the humans were responding to the evidence of a Dark Lady sending orcs against them—even if that wasn’t what happened. She wanted to believe it was just a knee-jerk response, a more active way to defend themselves, but operating in good faith had gotten her tied to a stake and nearly burned to death.

  It was time to trust the person who’d only been a help to her through it all.

  “Is there anything we can do?”

  This was what she’d wanted. To help people. The thought that those people would be humans had been short-sighted, she now realized. If she could help Karak’s clan, then she owed it to him—and to them.

  “They need a safe place to stay. Many of our women and children were killed by the guild, but there are some left who are still vulnerable. I would see them protected, if my Lady is willing to extend that courtesy.”

  “Of course,” Rhia said, a slight, defensive edge to her voice.

  Had he thought she would say no? What kind of monster would turn away women and children in need?

  “You’ve been overseeing the restoration of the barracks,” she continued, shaking out of her self-pity, “is that a good place for them, or do they need something more?”

  “I think it will do well enough for now. It’s secure, and deep enough inside the keep that it won’t be immediately accessible by outside forces. At some point I think it would be a good idea to construct proper homes, though. Not just for my clan, but for anyone you decide to help who’s been displaced.”

  She hadn’t considered it before, but Karak’s words made a great deal of sense. If she was helping people, the easy option was to sweep in, right the immediate wrong, then continue on to the next injustice. It felt like a very juvenile approach, though, and somewhat self-serving. Like something a traveling band of do-gooder mercenaries might do, soaking up all the fame and glory before moving on.

  If she was truly going to help people, that would mean confronting the fact that many of them would need continued support.

  “Let’s do it, then. And you’ll need more supplies? Food, of course. We need to get on top of that anyway, the dry stores in the kitchens are low.”

  So far they’d subsisted on hard tack and frybread, but the amount of usable goods in Ebonhold was staggeringly small, and if they were going to house more than just the four of them, they’d need a proper pantry and larder.

  “Do we have enough cots? Blankets? Other basic supplies?”

  “I think Liam’s been taking inventory, so I’ll talk to him. As for the food, we can help with that. My clan has several skilled hunters and tradesmen who have connections all across the southern lands. We can get you good prices.”

  She nodded, trying to take in the overwhelming amount of information she needed to process at once. She’d had a manageable goal before—make Ebonhold livable. This was something else. This was supporting and sustaining a larger number of people, and she knew what little gold Karak had scrounged wasn’t going to make it far. Even if Liam had used his own coin to buy the things he’d purchased thus far—despite her telling him to use the gold piece she’d given
him.

  “I can’t promise it’ll be easy living here. We’re starting from nothing,” she said with a frown, looking up at the keep. “But if your people are interested, they’re welcome to stay. Even more welcome if they can help in any way.”

  “We’d never impose without giving something in return, Lady.” He gave her a soft, patient smile, and she nodded. “My clan has served the sitting Dark Lady for generations. For the most part, we’ve done so without expecting anything more than the vaguest protection in return. That’s just how it’s always been.”

  “Well, I’d like the relationship to be a little more equal this time around,” she said, feeling a bit self-conscious.

  Were he Liam, Karak might have mocked her for being naive. This was certainly a candy apple view of the world where everyone could get back precisely what they put in. But if she was going to be charged with running an entire fortress and commanding other people, why shouldn’t she try for that ideal?

  Not only did Karak not mock her, he took her hands in his, eliciting a gasp from Rhia. His palms and fingers were rough and callused, his hands warm as they completely enveloped hers. She felt a jolt arc upward from her hands into the rest of her body, setting her nerves aflame and making her all too aware of just how close he was on this bench.

  She swallowed hard, looking up into his intense amber eyes. They held her rapt, the depth of conviction she found there spellbinding.

  “My people will fight for you no matter what, but I hope you mean what you say. I hope you’ll help us find justice for those we’ve lost.”

  “Have you lost someone?” she found herself asking, realizing as soon as the words left her mouth that it was too personal a question. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to answer that, you just seem so connected to this—”

  “I have.”

  Two words, spoken so softly but with such a depth of emotion that Rhia nearly drowned in them. She could see the pain in his eyes, the tension in his body as he recalled something that had obviously been devastating to him. Before she could think better of it, she reached up and touched his face, her palm resting against his cheek. Karak stiffened at first, but leaned into her touch, lifting his hand to rest it over hers.