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

by Alana Serra

  Rhia’s hesitation was palpable, but eventually he heard her commit a message to the ether. The words were too softly spoken for him to discern, but he heard Karak’s voice answer, and knew the spell had been successful. He’d suffer the blow to his pride if it meant Rhia stayed safe.

  Going back to the camp, Liam prepared to bed down for the night, saying little more. He answered her questions about the layout of these lands and the quickest way to get to Platsia, but that was it. Before long, he had his cloak bunched beneath his head as a makeshift pillow and he tried to sleep despite the worry that nagged at his gut.

  They arrived at Platsia with no sign of Karak, Rhia’s messages revealing he was still a day’s ride away, despite powering through one of the nights. The city hadn’t fallen under the menacing shadow of Aeredus’ creatures, so Liam supposed they still had some time to find Wesley, but not as much as he’d like. Not as much as Rhia would like either, apparently.

  “I’d rather wait for Karak, but the more time we give Wesley, the more likely he is to…”

  “Do something incredibly stupid and get himself killed?” he supplied.

  She sucked in a breath, glowering at him. “Do you have to be so tactless every second of every day?”

  “If it means you face reality, then yes, I do,” he growled back, gesturing toward the gates. “Do you know how fortified paladin compounds are? He might be able to plow through a few initiates and some novices, but he’ll have to make it through actual knights to get to his sister. Men and women who’ve been training for years just for the chance to snuff out evil, and he’s brought it right to them.”

  “Wesley is not evil,” she shot back, cutting him off from the rest of his lecture. “He’s… he’s desperate. And afraid.”

  The tremble in her words, the empathy she seemed to feel cut through Liam, deflating the self-righteous fury that built inside of him and replacing it with… nothingness. He felt hollowed out, that black, lonely void looming ever closer. Desperate. Afraid. He was, wasn’t he? When Rhia explained what he was doing—having not been able to keep it from Liam lest they be completely ineffectual in their quest—he’d been surprised, but not as much as he might have expected.

  People went to great lengths when they were desperate. Especially when that desperation concerned someone they loved. And fear? Fear was so often a catalyst for violence, for allowing oneself to succumb to base instincts just to survive. Liam had certainly experienced it. He’d renounced his paladin order because of what it did to him.

  For as much as he suspected Wesley would succumb to the darkness inside of him, he didn’t want to see that happen. Not to anyone, and certainly not to someone who was wielding that power—for now—as a way to stave off fear. He’d soon be confronted with a choice, though, and his desperation would likely be his downfall. Once he got a taste of his full potential, of the gifts Aeredus offered… that would be the end of it.

  And it was the same for Rhia.

  “That’s even worse,” Liam finally said, but argued no further on the subject.

  Instead, he led their horses toward the stable and asked after the location of the paladin order. It wasn’t difficult to spot once they were inside the city proper. The compound was like a fortress in and of itself, with a colossal statue of Belisan at its center, and several towers posted along the walls, their banners hung with the order’s signature rose and shield motif.

  As far as paladin orders went, the Guardians of the Rose were mostly benign. They carried out justice as the behest of the governing lord, protected those who sought their protection, and defended the virtue of maidens from dragons and other such nonsense. Nothing about them screamed corruption to Liam. It would have made this whole ordeal easier if they’d just been dealing with his old order, but that was a door he wasn’t prepared to open just yet. Not without more information.

  “It doesn’t look like there’s been a fight. Maybe he hasn’t made it here yet,” Rhia said, her voice lifting with hope.

  Liam was, yet again, the one to crush it. “Doubtful.”

  He walked the edges of the compound, searching for anything out of place. The back of his neck prickled, hairs standing on end as he sensed dark magic. Sure enough, one of the walls on the far east side—the side exposed to the smallest amount of traffic—was crumbled, someone having obviously scrambled over it.

  “Dammit, Wesley,” Rhia said, some of her own desperation edging into her words.

  “His sister will be in the dungeons, which should be accessible from outside the order proper,” Liam said. “Little chance of us getting there without having a plan in place, though.”

  “Can you pass as one of them?” she asked, looking him up and down, her lips twitching into a frown. “I suppose not, if you don’t have their armor.”

  “I could get a set, but the barracks will be more tightly locked down than—”

  An explosion erupted inside the compound, shaking stones loose from the already damaged wall. He looked to Rhia, lunging for her just seconds too late, his fingers brushing the edge of her sleeve as she hurtled herself over the debris and went running.

  “Are you out of your fucking mind?” he hissed, but followed anyway.

  Of course he followed. He had no choice. Not because he was her guardian, but because he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if she was killed by paladins while he could do something about it.

  Fortunately for her, the ones in the yard were thoroughly distracted by the explosion, the senior paladins running for the order hall. Liam tapped into the senses he still retained, the training he’d had drilled into his head for years, picking up traces of dark magic.

  “This way,” he called, grabbing for Rhia and managing to get hands on her this time.

  He pulled her into a hall, and not a moment too soon. Two paladins went rushing by. Just novices, but Liam wasn’t eager to start a fight here. They’d never make it out of the city alive.

  The hall itself was brightly lit, some kind of outer mess hall where trainees likely congregated for food and drink between sessions. The place was in shambles, tables upended, chairs strewn about the room, plates and cups shattered on the ground.

  And bodies. Several bodies lying motionless on the floor amidst the debris. His heart stopped, coldness overwhelming him. It was already too late. Wesley had killed innocents for the very fact that they were in his way. He was lost.

  “They’re still alive,” Rhia said, kneeling beside one of them, her fingers pressed to his pulse point. “Just knocked out.”

  Knocked out. There wasn’t a warlock alive who would just subdue the people who stood between him and what he wanted. Liam wasn’t even sure he would have done that. If someone was holding his sister, he would have carved a path straight through.

  Which made Wesley a better person than him, apparently. Though that wasn’t much of a feat.

  “There’s probably more where these came from, then,” Liam said, leading her to the end of the hall.

  As they headed into the corridor, there were indeed several more paladins taking the hardest naps of their lives. He and Rhia had to step over them en route to the next. More and more bodies, what seemed like half the Guardians of the Rose strewn throughout the halls as Rhia and Liam followed the path of destruction Wesley had created.

  The sound of jostling plate armor caught his attention and Liam put an arm out to keep Rhia from going past. They were at a junction, the hall beyond stretching to either side, and he would have preferred to just stay out of sight. But the young man who’d come running happened to turn their way, colliding with Liam.

  His brown eyes were wide, his mouth open in what was sure to be a piercing shout that would carry across the courtyard. Liam didn’t allow it. He gripped the man around the neck and pulled him into a headlock, applying just enough pressure until he stopped struggling.

  “Goddess,” Rhia murmured, her face pale as she watched the paladin slump to the ground.

  “He’ll be fine,” Li
am said testily, trying not to be too bothered by the bias she was showing.

  Wesley had handled far more people in a similar manner, but because he hadn’t done it in front of her, it was suddenly permissible. A petty thing to be annoyed by, but Liam was not above being petty, even now.

  “Let’s go,” he said, reaching for her hand. “He can’t be far.”

  She let out a yelp when he tugged, but didn’t fight him on it. Would that Liam had time to appreciate how warm her hand was in his and how perfectly it fit in his grasp. If he was given leave to think about that, though, his mind would be quick to think of others things, and none of it was helpful right now.

  They were close to finding Wesley, and the sooner they did that, the sooner they could get out of here.

  “He’s up ahead. I can feel him,” Rhia said, breathless as they made their way through yet another hall.

  He wondered at that, if she’d secretly pacted with the warlock without any of them knowing, but he doubted it. She must just have some gut sense for it. For his part, Liam could sense Wesley as well. Unfortunately, the origin of all that dark energy was currently making its way through a courtyard. Liam could see speckles of sunlight casting in, could hear the sound of boots hitting stone, of swords being drawn, shouts rising in the distance.

  “We’re not going to get out of this unscathed,” he assured her, “and you might not like what you see.”

  He knew he couldn’t have stopped her if he tried. Rhia shook her head and hurried on, Liam following behind, his blade drawn. Little chance of him not having to use it, at this point. The paladins knew where Wesley was, and he wasn’t just going to be able to knock them out one by one.

  Rushing out into the blinding sunlight, Liam was unprepared for what he saw. Wesley had the high ground, having gotten himself up to the parapets while the paladins were still clambering up the stairs. An entity spread its many tentacles over the stones, reaching down, sweeping the whole lot of paladins off their feet and sending them crashing to the ground in a move that would have been comical under different circumstances.

  “I’m only here for one thing,” Wesley called out. “I don’t want to kill any of you, but if you try to stop me again, I’ll do what I must.”

  “Wesley,” Rhia called in a hiss.

  Right as Liam tried in vain to reach her, tell her to absolutely not do that. Because the warlock heard and looked her way, distress filling his features. It wasn’t long, but more than enough time for the sound of crossbows to ring out in the courtyard, bolts flying straight at the warlock. Two hit him, one in the thigh and one in the arm. The shadow creature shimmered, flickering in and out of existence, giving the other paladins a chance to climb up to the top of the wall.

  “No!” Rhia’s voice had force behind it, ringing out loud and clear. It was meant to draw attention, and it succeeded.

  The paladins still on the ground turned to face her, forcing Liam to bull rush one who was loading another bolt into his crossbow, his shield lifting to slam against the man and knock him to the ground. Under his protection, Rhia was given time to work. They couldn’t escape her using her magic very publicly now, but Liam hoped she’d find a way to extricate the three of them without causing further problems.

  Instead, a pillar of dark flame erupted beneath the stairs, sending paladins flying and launching heavy rubble after them, the stones showering down, crushing several men and women beneath their weight.

  “Rhia!” he called out, trying to reach her.

  But a vortex of darkness surrounded her, and when he caught sight of her face, her eyes blazed with an intense purple glow that chilled Liam to his core. Dark magic surfaced all around them, sending paladins into the air, searing their armor to their bodies, holding them down and squeezing the life from them. It was everywhere at once, a force that couldn’t be reckoned with or even contained.

  She’d lost control. She saw Wesley in danger—mortal danger, very likely—and she’d acted in fear and desperation. Liam’s heart sank as he realized it was too late. The moment she’d made that choice, whether conscious or not, she’d given herself over to Aeredus. The best thing now would be to put her out of her misery, but Aeredus’ magic forbade it, preventing him from acting. The only other alternative was to somehow incapacitate her. Maybe he could get Wesley out still.

  Looking up to the parapets, he saw the warlock’s attention fixed squarely on Rhia, concern written across his features. He wasn’t fighting any longer. He’d stopped casting spells, stopped summoning creatures. And the look on his face suggested he saw what Liam saw. A Dark Lady consumed by her powers.

  But… she didn’t have to be. The thought occurred to him in a fleeting glimmer, and Liam chased it down. He acted before he even had time to think it through, rushing toward Rhia. Looping an arm around her, he ignored the way her magic seared his own skin, the power coming off of her in waves. He used his strength to overpower her and tried to pull her toward the exit.

  She wasn’t having any of it. Liam was blasted backward, sent flying toward the flagstone. He crashed into another paladin, a tangle of limbs as he tried to quickly get back to her. Her eyes were still overtaken by that deep, dark, foreboding purple, and he looked up to Wesley in a panic.

  Considering the same expression was on the warlock’s face, it was clear Liam was going to have to be the one to shake out of it and get her away from the paladins before she killed anyone else, unwittingly or otherwise. Or before she killed herself.

  He could see how much energy she was expending, could see her skin growing ashen, sweat prickling at her brow. Her power was barely under her control, flung this way and that as a defense mechanism more than anything else.

  “Help me, dammit!” he called to Wesley, rushing back in.

  The warlock listened, jumping down from the wall and making his way past the fallen paladins, inky black tendrils bound around his arms. They shot outward, moved to restrain Rhia. She fought against them, but her magic kept fizzling out, never reaching the desired effect. With her arms and legs bound in magic, Liam hoisted her over his shoulder and ran for it, not daring to look at the carnage the Dark Lady left in her wake.

  Chapter 26

  It was some time later when Rhia roused.

  She wouldn’t have known, but for the fact that it was dark out, and there were now four men around her instead of just two. She also wasn’t sleeping on a bedroll, tossing and turning against the hard ground. She was on a comfortable mattress, the bed cushioning her aching muscles, the warmth of the blankets begging her to just close her eyes and go back to sleep.

  But the grim faces of the men who looked down at her made it clear that wasn’t a good idea. She sat up with a groan, aided by Karak, his hand at her back. Everything hurt. Her head, her chest, her back, her legs. There wasn’t a muscle in Rhia’s body that wasn’t exhausted, as if she’d spent the entire journey to Platsia running instead of riding.

  Platsia. She’d seen four faces, but still her gaze moved frantically from each until she identified Wesley. Her overwrought nerves settled somewhat and she let out a relieved sigh.

  “You’re safe,” she said, her throat scratchy, as if she hadn’t spoken in several days.

  She lifted her hand to touch her throat and hissed, the mark at her neck scalding her skin. What…?

  “You had these big softies quite worried,” Tanris said in his usual easy manner.

  Tanris? Why was Tanris here? He didn’t give a damn about her or her guardians. He was useful, yes, but she suspected his loyalty only extended to a certain point. Certainly not to the point where he was standing over her bedside with the others.

  Something had happened. Her gaze moved to Liam, expecting to find cold judgment there. While a distance existed, a stony mask settled in place, there was a glimmer of something else in his expression. Worry. Trepidation. None of it made any sense to her.

  They were back at Ebonhold. Wesley was safe. Everyone was safe. The only thing she could think was that…r />
  “Did we get to your sister?” she asked Wesley, her breath catching. “Did we get her out in time?”

  His lips set in a firm line and he shook his head. “No. No, we didn’t, Rhia.”

  “Do you not remember what happened?” Liam asked, eyeing her with the suspicion she’d come to expect.

  “That’s not surprising, given the state she was in when you brought her out of Platsia,” Karak said, moving to the bedside to pour foul-smelling liquid into a cup. He handed it to her. “Drink this. It will help.”

  Rhia hesitated, but after a moment, did as he bade. The liquid tasted even worse than it smelled, and she had to work hard to suppress her instinct to gag. Once it was down, though, the aches in her muscles began to ease.

  “Courtesy of Dwela,” he explained.

  “Thank you,” Rhia croaked, remembering not to touch her throat this time. “What do you mean, the state I was in? I don’t…”

  Fragments of memory began to cling to the edges of her consciousness, like shards of a glass mirror slowly being pieced back together. Bit by bit, those fragments told a story, until she could see it all clearly in the reflective surface.

  They’d gone to Platsia, to the paladin compound to get to Wesley before he did anything drastic. He’d been in a courtyard, surrounded by paladins. Shot at. Charged. In pain, and surely in mortal danger. She’d felt panic. Then anger. Then a decisive need to do something. And then she’d felt… nothing. She’d been absolutely devoid of emotion as she’d used her powers, letting the cold, dark magic consume her and monopolize her body to accomplish the purposes she wanted.

  Protect Wesley. Kill everyone who dared harm him. Kill everyone who might harm him. Don’t stop until they’re all dead.

  All of the color drained from Rhia’s face, her stomach sinking as she remembered, in startling detail, every vile thing she’d done. She’d… killed. Not just because she had to. Not just because she was protecting Wesley. At a certain point, even that stopped being true. She killed to prevent things that might not ever happen. Killed when there might have been clear alternatives. Would have kept killing, if she hadn’t been subdued by Liam and Wesley.