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

by Alana Serra

  She would have done more with him. Gladly. He would have been the first to properly fuck her, too, and again she didn’t feel ashamed over it. There was a trust and connection there borne of similar experiences, and she had no reason not to indulge. But did it mean anything more? Was he just someone to warm her bed?

  In her heart, Rhia suspected that wasn’t true, but she didn’t know him well enough to call it anything else. Maybe it could grow into something more. She was willing to give it a chance, so long as he didn’t get testy about her… desires. Even if she never acted on them beyond a kiss and some very lovely dreams, she didn’t want to deal with jealousy from any of them.

  All those thoughts tossed through her head, making it impossible for Rhia to sleep. She rose after the futile attempt, putting on her dressing gown and running a comb through her hair before braiding it in a plait that went halfway down her back. Walking the hall, she found one of the orcs on duty, guarding the wing as she’d asked. He gave her a silent nod and Rhia nodded back, holding her head high as she very clearly stole away to someone else’s room.

  “Wesley?” she whispered, shutting the door behind her. “Are you awake?”

  Her eyes slowly adjusted, telling her what her instincts had already figured out. He wasn’t there. Evidently he’d been there at some point because the bed was a bit rumpled, but he wasn’t there now. Perhaps the library. She knew he liked to spend a great deal of time in there.

  She started toward the door when something caught her attention. Or rather, the lack of something caught her attention. Wesley’s things. He had a pack with scroll cases and components that he almost always brought with him, and a pouch of reagents he normally kept on the table.

  Neither were there.

  He probably just took them with him to the library, she told herself, but the words rang hollow in her mind.

  Closing her eyes, Rhia reached out with her magic to try and detect him. At first, she wasn’t sure what she was even looking for. Footprints weren’t going to help. He’d obviously been all over this room, and there was no telling how long ago he’d stepped out.

  But perhaps she could see something else. Concentrating, she imagined standing in this very spot and watching as Wesley reached for his pack. He appeared there, in the space her mind had created, his figure outlined in hazy purple. Her magic was working.

  Keeping a tight grasp on it, she watched the scene unfold before her. He grabbed clothing from the bureau, stuffed coins into his pouch, packed hastily, with no regard for the mental checklists she suspected he was used to making. As she watched, the image of Wesley slung the pack over one shoulder, tied the pouch at his belt, and moved toward the door.

  He hesitated there, his gaze lingering on the writing desk. A piece of paper sat atop it, a pen resting nearby. Shaking his head, Wesley left the room and didn’t look back.

  The image faded from Rhia’s consciousness, leading her to make her way to the writing desk and search the sheet of paper that was still there. He hadn’t written anything. He’d been poised to, but had decided against it. That couldn’t mean anything good.

  “What have you done, Wesley?” she whispered aloud, cold dread taking root in her.

  “Something very foolish.”

  Rhia nearly jumped out of her skin, her fingers sparking with magic in a way they hadn’t since she’d become the Dark Lady. She whirled on the intruder, finding Tanris lifted high into the air, a shadowy hand wrapped around his neck, holding him aloft.

  “I’m not averse to rough play, Lady,” he croaked out, rasping, “but we haven’t established any boundaries yet.”

  She waved it away, not thinking about the fact that he was several feet off the ground. Tanris had the grace of a cat, though, and he landed with an ease that defied the wild look in his eyes. His fingers touched his throat, a gesture Rhia thought was made involuntarily, before his usual mask dropped back into place.

  “You know where he is?” she asked, breathless. “Tell me.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Tanris said with a sad smile. “I don’t break my promises, you see, and I promised only to relay the message he wished to send, which was that he’s sorry. And he did honestly seem so, if it matters.”

  “You told him something.”

  She was prepared to demand the truth from him, her heart hammering in her chest, a strong dose of panic spiking her blood. But after a moment, she knew.

  “His sister. Something’s happened with his sister. There’s no other reason he’d leave.”

  Tanris’ expression—the barest hint of a sad smile—told her everything she needed to know. But naturally, the rogue decided to elaborate.

  “Well, since you already know, what’s the harm in telling you more? His sister’s being held for the murder of Lord Tremont. The paladins are keeping her, with little time left before her farce of a trial and the execution to follow.”

  Rhia drew in a shuddering breath, her stomach lurching, head spinning as she tried to get her bearings. She needed to leave. He couldn’t be that far ahead. If she rode after him now, maybe she could find his campsite when he stopped.

  “Where are you going?” Tanris called after her as she hurried to the hall.

  “To save my guardian from his own idiocy.”

  She gathered only what she would need for a quick trip. Light rations and enough gold to buy a room for a night if need be. Beyond that, Rhia suspected her magic would carry her farther than any material item she could bring.

  As she headed down to the stables, the thought occurred to her that she should really wake up Karak and Liam, and possibly bribe Tanris into coming along, too. The rogue hadn’t seemed eager to stop her, though, and she didn’t necessarily want her other two guardians involved in Wesley’s personal business.

  She’d just find him and bring him back, hopefully before anyone else woke. He couldn’t have gotten that far. Worst case, it might be a day, and while she had no doubt the others would come looking for her, that was a bridge she could cross if she needed to.

  Leading the mare she’d grown fond of out of the stables and heading to fetch tack, she only belatedly realized she should use her magic to dampen the sound of her leaving and perhaps hide the tracks. She focused, closed her eyes, and imagined it so. But before she could complete the spell, she felt the presence of another.

  Her eyes opened to see Liam standing there, silent as a church mouse, yet still managing to judge her without saying a word. Until he did.

  “Going somewhere?”

  “For a ride,” she said dismissively, moving past him. “I’m restless. I thought I could clear my head.”

  He looked to her state of dress, a coat thrown over her gown for protection from the dust and dirt of the road, then at the pack she hadn’t managed to conceal from him.

  “I haven’t been out of the order that long, Rhia. I can still spot a liar with ease. So. Where are you going?”

  She ignored him, fitting the bridle on her horse’s snout. The mare jostled a little, moving beneath her, her ears flicking to the sides before she calmed. “That’s my concern, not yours.”

  She all but parroted the same thing he’d said to her several times in the past. It didn’t escape his notice. He let out a snort, but still Rhia pressed on, going for one of the lightweight saddles. She didn’t need to weigh the mare down tonight, not when speed was the goal.

  Rhia half expected Liam to put himself in her way, but she found the path to her horse clear. Looking around the stables, she realized it was only because Liam had retrieved his own horse. The gelding he walked out nipped at Rhia’s mare, whickering in low tones.

  “What are you—”

  “I said I would accompany you, didn’t I?”

  “This isn’t a diplomacy mission, it’s…” Rhia stopped herself before admitting it was a rescue mission. “It’s none of your business what it is, Liam. Go back inside. That’s an order.”

  He actually laughed at that, the mocking tone grating at
her already frayed nerves. “You might be able to command me to do a great many things, princess, but you’re not going to order me to go to bed. You’re not my mother.”

  Rhia growled, her frustration bubbling over. She didn’t have time for this. “Get out of my way before I make you.”

  He glared at her, green eyes flashing with something dangerous. Rhia didn’t look away, refusing to back down. She wasn’t going to crumble before this man. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction, especially when Wesley needed her. Liam stared back at her, and she felt as though she was having a contest of wills with a raging bull. But slowly, something in his eyes changed. There was… concern in them. Genuine concern, so potent that it knocked Rhia completely off course.

  “Something’s wrong,” he said, his tone matching his eyes. “Tell me, Rhia. I can help.”

  She opened her mouth, stammering out something unintelligible. She hadn’t wanted Liam or Karak to know—especially Liam—but she felt compelled to say something. Especially since she was out of her depth here. She didn’t know these lands, nor did she have any idea how to get to Platsia from here.

  “Wesley received word of… someone important to him,” she deflected, not wanting to give away his secrets. “He’s heading to Platsia, and I need to get to him before he does something stupid.”

  Liam’s expression hardened a bit, his jaw tightening. “It’s clearly too late for that.”

  “Yes. Well.” Whatever she’d seen in Liam’s eyes was gone now, and she wasn’t in the mood for his normal, judgmental self. “Now you know, and since I’m sure you don’t care, just let me leave and I’ll bring him back on my own.”

  “Like hell you will,” Liam said, reaching for her arm as she went for the saddle. “I’m not going to let you get yourself killed because our resident warlock doesn’t know how to stay out of trouble. I’ll go.”

  She rolled her eyes, prepared to challenge his bluster. But there was something in his eyes again. Another glimpse of actual, honest concern. This time, she didn’t hesitate to call it out.

  “You’re worried about him.”

  For a moment, everything was there for her to see, laid bare before her very eyes. The profound depth of emotion that existed beneath Liam’s gruff exterior. He was quick to give she and Wesley a hard time, but he obviously cared. She could see it, clear as day. Whatever his issues were with them, Rhia suspected they had the same point of origin. Perhaps they even had something to do with this mysterious past Liam refused to talk about.

  Right now, she supposed it didn’t matter. She’d accept his help so long as it was genuinely offered. He could keep hold of his secrets. She opened her mouth to say that when Liam responded, his lips twisting into a nasty sneer.

  “My only worry is that it might break your poor, fragile heart when he inevitably succumbs to his lust for power and we have to put him down like a dog.”

  Rhia didn’t think about what she was doing, she just did it. Her hand pulled back and connected with the side of his face, a harsh slap ringing through the night, loud enough to startle the horses. His eyes went wide in surprise, his face turned, cheek red from the blow. Fury built inside of her, and she went to shove him, but Liam expected it this time. He grabbed both of her arms and used his body weight to shove her back until she hit the wall of the stables, the wood rattling as he slammed her against it, pinning her arms above her head.

  “Let. Go.” It was a command, through and through, and Rhia felt her powers welling up inside of her, ready to force him to do what she said one way or another.

  But Liam didn’t let her go. Not a moment later, his mouth was crashing to hers with all the fury she’d shown him moments before, a rush of bruising pressure and scraping teeth that sent a shiver of pain through her body. Pain, and a bone-deep pleasure that unfurled within her, heating to an inferno with hardly any provocation at all. She thrashed against him, curled her fingers to try and claw at his hands, but he didn’t relent.

  And Rhia didn’t want him to.

  She could have used her magic, easily. He couldn’t stop her, and one magical shove would have seen him on his ass at best, knocked out on the other side of the yard at worst. But forcing him away from her would have been a temporary, unsatisfying outlet for the fire that burned within.

  Rhia responded to him like a force of nature, arching against him, daring him to pull away. She kissed him fiercely, all of that anger burning into a passion the likes of which she’d never quite felt before. Oh, she’d very much enjoyed kissing Wesley and Karak, and there was no lack of passion there, but the hatred that seethed within her fueled something dark, dangerous, and seductive between her and Liam.

  She bit down on his lip, hard, reveling in the deep groan that rumbled against her. His tongue plunged into her mouth, taking, demanding, and Rhia made her own demands in turn, her leg curling behind him to draw his hard body against hers.

  It was only a matter of time before he let go of her hands. She could feel it, feel that need in him to touch her. Lift her against the stable wall, perhaps. He removed one hand, likely intending to keep her pinned with the other, but Rhia was too quick for that.

  She blasted him backward with a wave of magic, catching him completely off guard. Her whole body burned, her lips tingling, an ache inside of her for more. An ache she would have indulged in, were time not of the essence. Instead she wrapped tendrils of dark magic around his wrists like heavy manacles and pinned him to the opposite wall.

  He was panting as she advanced on him, his eyes dark, pupils dilated. “Admit it,” she demanded in a low voice. “Admit you actually give a damn, and I’ll let you go with me.”

  “Don’t be ri—”

  She leveled a hand at his crotch, dark energy prickling around her. Liam narrowed his gaze and she arched a brow at him. “Admit it.”

  His teeth grated together so hard she could practically feel the pain of it in her own jaw. He looked like a wild animal, intending only to snap and snarl at her from his captivity. But finally he relented, even as his eyes still blazed.

  “Fine. I do give a damn. I don’t want to see you or the warlock get yourselves killed. Are you happy now?”

  Not by a long shot. But Rhia released him just the same, banking the fires that threatened to burn out of control between them. Then she moved to her mare as though nothing were amiss, swung herself into the saddle, and waited for a seething Liam to follow.

  Chapter 25

  Even riding through the night, they didn’t manage to catch up to Wesley in time to stop him outright.

  Liam wasn’t exactly surprised. The warlock clearly wanted to make it to Platsia quickly and surreptitiously, and meandering around on a regularly paced horse wasn’t conducive to that plan. The tracks were easy enough to follow, and he stuck to the road at first, but when he veered off, there were trace residues of dark magic clinging to the trail.

  He’d used his magic to speed his horse, or had foregone it entirely in favor of something… else. Every time Wesley’s creatures were around, Liam felt they were as likely to crawl into his soul as follow the warlock’s command. It seemed all too possible he had some kind of beast to ferry him to the city in a timely manner. In his early days in the paladin order, Liam had heard tell of fiery steeds desecrating the earth with every stride. Perhaps it was something like that, since there was a faint smell of sulfur every now and again.

  “We’ve lost the trail, haven’t we?” Rhia asked as they were forced to make camp for the night.

  Curious that she hadn’t foisted the blame on him completely. Liam certainly took it unto himself. He should have known the warlock was planning something like this, even if he didn’t know the extent of it.

  But Rhia hadn’t challenged him since their encounter in the stables, nor had Liam challenged her. Largely because if he did, he was sure he’d end up kissing her again. And this time, he wouldn’t be able to stop until they’d gotten everything they could from one another, which could take hours. They didn’t h
ave that time to spend, so he refrained from baiting her, keeping uncharacteristically quiet throughout the ride.

  “The physical trail, yes. But there are still signs of him. I don’t think we’ll catch up before he makes it to Platsia, though. He’s riding like the hounds of hell are nipping at his heels.”

  Judging from Rhia’s expression, that wasn’t too far off. She wrapped her arms more securely about herself and Liam fed another bundle of sticks to the fire, some foolish, chivalric part of him wanting to offer his cloak, another part of him wanting to offer his bed.

  “Now I wish we’d woken Karak. I’m tempted to go back for him, but it’s too much time lost.”

  “Send a message,” Liam said, laying out his bedroll.

  “Pen and paper weren’t exactly a priority when I packed,” Rhia said, “and as far as you said, we’re nowhere near an inn, thus nowhere near a courier who can take it to him.”

  “Belisan’s grace,” he muttered, feeling a sudden pressure behind his eyes. He reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “You’re a sorceress, Rhia. Send him a message.”

  She blinked at him and opened her mouth to fire off a retort, then blushed. “Well. I suppose you have proof of my incompetence now. Congratulations.”

  It was on the tip of his tongue to tease with barbed words like he always did, but Liam bit them back. They tasted so bitter in his mouth, so unsettling. Was this what he’d let himself become? A man who tore others down for sport? It was pathetic. A waste of any of his talents, and so far removed from what he’d once been that he hardly recognized himself.

  Of course, that was the point.

  “I’m going to make sure the blind is secure,” he muttered, pushing himself up and going to check on the horses.