The Dread King: A Reverse Harem Fantasy (The Harbinger Book 3)

by Candace Wondrak

  A rough hand pulled Finn off Light, a hand that was stronger than Finn knew. Cam knelt beside his brother, helping him up, and as the rage emptied from his system, he saw he gave the Elf many wounds that were already bruising up. His cheekbones would not be so flawless while they were blue and purple, would they? Light wiped at his split lip as Cam glared at each of them.

  “You are both lucky I was watching,” Cam started, stopping as Light tried to go around him, to get to Finn. Cam did not let him sidestep him. “You are both fools. Why are you bickering like children?” His voice, normally soft and meek, was abrasive and unforgiving. It hurt Finn’s ears.

  If this was how children bickered in the Second, Finn was glad he grew up on Earth.

  “We are not bickering like children,” Light spoke, slightly mocking Cam.

  Finn started to smirk, but a sharp look from his blue eyes stopped him.

  “You are,” Cam stated further, eyeing his brother. “And you still want to fight. What has gotten into you?” He set a hand flat on Light’s chest, the confusion clear on his painted-gray face.

  That was when Finn realized he still wanted to fight, too. It was more fun than he thought it’d be. And, really, didn’t Light deserve every bruise and broken bone he got? The Elf egged him on. He hardly remembered they were talking about Faith before their fists came into play.

  “If you two are done with this pointless fight, I must take my leave before someone sees me.” Cam abruptly stopped speaking, appearing motionless for quite a while. His cloudy amber eyes blinked a few times. “There is another commotion deeper in the camp. It sounds like it involves Faith.” He adjusted the strap slung across his shoulders, shoulders that, Finn saw, were wider than his brother’s.

  As an Ulen, Cam was thicker all around, though his ears were still far too pointed and long.

  Hearing Faith’s name snapped Finn out of whatever trance he’d fallen into during the fight with Light. Well, that definitely escalated quickly, didn’t it? And, the even weirder part was, he would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it. The fight was actually…fun. It felt nice to let loose, to not pull any punches and to give himself fully to the rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins.

  Finn shook the strange emotions lingering inside him away, shooting a look at Light around Cam’s shoulders. He seemed to be in the same predicament as him, though he looked much worse. His white face was littered with split skin and red blood. His fists were still clenched at his sides, his blue eyes furious.

  When neither Finn nor Light replied, Cam repeated, “May I leave, or must I handle you both like the children you are behaving as? Now go and see what is going on in there. Kingdoms help us if I have to march through the camp to—”

  “It’s fine,” Finn spoke slowly. “It’s done.” And then he walked away from both Light and Cam, too far from Light to turn around and sock him in the jaw when he heard the Elf mutter a low for now.

  Oh, how he wanted to finish things with the Elf. Anger settled over him easily, as if it was always there, waiting to be accepted into his heart. Anger and rage—who knew it felt so good? Finn never knew how easy it was, to just step back and let it take over.

  No.

  He had to do better than that. He couldn’t let it take over.

  He’d do it for Faith.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Sitting quietly, Faith let herself stew. She had no right to be upset over the girl kissing Jag. No right at all since she did the same with Finn, and she liked it. Still, if Nilda hadn’t made such a huge deal about it, would Jag have told her, or would he have kept it to himself? That alone made her fume.

  What if he kept it a secret? What if he never told her? It was just a gateway to him keeping a lot of things from her.

  Which she was not okay with.

  The girl Malus in question—Azelia—was at least out of her sight. Good. If she was still standing near them, giving her the evil eye, Faith felt like she’d throw down.

  Jag eyed her, probably about to ask if she was okay, when a kid ran up to Nilda and tugged on her wrinkly hands. The child was no more than ten, his feline eyes a little too big for his head, as were his ears. “Nilda,” he shouted her name, “Papa is fighting with Rees again!” The kid would not let up.

  Nilda let out a great, big sigh. “Fine, fine. I’ll go and smack some sense into them.” Her legs shook a bit as she stood, the necklace of claws jangling on her chest, and she let the young Malus lead the way.

  One thing was for sure: Faith was growing far too accustomed to nudity around these people.

  “Hey,” Jag spoke softly, reaching for her. “Are you—”

  Faith didn’t let him finish or touch her. She pulled away from him, jumping to her feet. “I need to take a walk.” When Jag sent her a hopeful look, she added, “By myself.” His ears and eyes fell, and for some odd reason she didn’t even feel bad.

  She was too upset.

  As she walked away, she thought she’d find Light and Finn, but her feet drew her in the opposite direction. She didn’t feel like she could mollify a fight between two guys; not currently. Not while she felt like screaming.

  Kind of an overreaction, wasn’t it?

  It might be, but Faith couldn’t help it. Jag kissed someone else. Jag kissed someone else. It was like all she could think about was Jag kissing the pretty Malus girl. She could picture it in her head far too clearly.

  Faith, you have no right to judge, the voice of reason rang out in her head.

  I might not have a right to judge, she told the damned voice of reason, but it won’t stop me from judging.

  What was wrong with her? Faith knew her anger was uncalled for, but it was like she couldn’t stop it from rising. She couldn’t bite her tongue and hold back. The anger inside threatened to bubble over unless she released it. She had to hit something. She had to vent it out otherwise it would consume her.

  What was this feeling? She’d never felt like this before. She didn’t want to scream or hit something. She wasn’t two years old. She could handle her emotions without shutting down.

  Faith stopped storming away, focusing on her breathing. She blocked out the pair of Malus—pairs of Malus, she corrected herself—who were busy getting intimate a few feet to her left. She inhaled slowly, doing her best to release the tension building inside her. It came over her like a wave.

  Being around these Malus wasn’t good for her. They were less reserved, more prone to acting on their first instincts. Faith had to remember that. What good was she as a Harbinger if the mere mention of one of her guys kissing someone else sent her off the rails? She had no hope of even attempting to survive this.

  It was stupid and pointless and, with one final deep breath, out of her system completely.

  “So, it’s true, then?” A female voice rang out behind her.

  Faith closed her eyes, hoping with a futile heart that it wasn’t Azelia. She was measured in turning around as she re-opened her eyes. It…was Azelia. Of course it was. Who else would it be?

  The Malus truly tested her patience.

  Azelia stood with her arms crossed, her hip cocked. Her long tail slightly curved at the end, flicking back and forth like Grumpy’s had after her grandma nearly sat on him. Beneath her tiger-striped fur, her body was thin and curvy. She was very pretty. Faith could understand the attraction Jag had toward her, even if she wasn’t her type.

  Faith and Azelia were basically alone. They were surrounded by other Malus doing Malus-y things, but they were alone for the purpose of this conversation. And it was a conversation that must be had, even though the last thing Faith wanted to do was speak with her, think of her and Jag together.

  Ew. Just…no.

  It was a while before Faith answered, “Yes.”

  Azelia frowned. “He…seems happy with you.”

  “He is,” Faith spoke slowly. At least, she thought he was.

  Her golden, metallic eyes traveled downward to Faith’s feet, moving back up at a snail�
�s pace as she took in her appearance. Faith made sure to stand confidently, to not let this Malus know how annoyed she was, or how insecure she felt. After all, what was she when Jag could easily have someone more like him? Someone he had a history with that clearly involved doing the naked nighttime tango?

  “I don’t see what he finds so appealing about you,” Azelia muttered unhappily. “You have no fur. Your children will be ugly and bare.”

  Faith coughed. Children? Who the hell around here said anything about children? She wasn’t ready to pop out any babies. “We aren’t…”

  How could she say it without telling her any intimate details of her life on Earth? As soon as Faith turned eighteen, she went to the doctors and…she didn’t want to think about it. It was awkward enough without having to remember it. Talking to a doctor about the different types of birth control, which one fit into her busy life and required the least amount of thought on her part.

  “We aren’t going to have kids”

  She didn’t get it. “You mean you haven’t mated with him yet?”

  “No, no, we’ve…done that. But no kids are on the horizon for us,” Faith said, glancing around. Where was someone to save her from this terribly awkward conversation? She was reasonably sure birth control was not a thing in the Second.

  “Why not? Jag would make fine children.” Azelia still wasn’t getting it.

  “I’m sure he would, but children aren’t…” Faith inhaled before asking, “I’m the Harbinger. There are things I have to do, things I’ll probably die trying to do. Getting pregnant is not one of them.”

  Even on Earth, having babies wasn’t in her plan. Neither was bleeding out of her hoo-ha every month. A doctor’s visit the day she turned eighteen had been a must. As far as she knew, she was good for at least the next few years, thanks to her IUD.

  Azelia recoiled at hearing the truth. “You’re the Harbinger?” she repeated, finally getting it. “I thought…” The Harbinger was a guy? Yes, so did everyone else. “Then I understand. You’ll probably die—”

  Faith laughed even though it was no laughing matter. Before Azelia had the chance to say more, a third presence appeared, leaping between them, hackles on the back of his neck raised a bit. Even from his back, she recognized the panther-spotted black fur. And the muscles.

  “Do not threaten my mate,” Jag growled, utterly and completely misreading the entire situation.

  Azelia was shocked witless at the display of anger, and Faith set a hand on his arm, pushing him aside as she said, “Jag. No one is threatening anyone. We’re fine. I’m fine.”

  Once she shook off her shock, Azelia muttered as she looked away, “I was only trying to find out if you were happy with her, Jag.” She looked wounded, hurt Jag would raise his voice at her like that. Faith felt a little bad, but then she recalled their shared history, and the sympathy vanished.

  Jag nodded. “She is mine, and I am hers. There is no future for us, Azelia. Be free to find another mate.”

  Someone who actually wants you, Faith added mentally.

  The tough girl persona Azelia wore until Jag appeared faded, and for a moment she actually looked like her eyes grew watery, like she was going to cry. “All right,” she said, uncrossing her arms. Hanging at her sides, they shook a bit. “I will. Wish you the best, and I hope you don’t die.” She said that last part to Faith, sniffing before she ran from them both.

  After a moment, Faith said, “She seems…nice, I guess. At least she didn’t attack me for stealing her man.”

  Jag’s chest rumbled. “You could not steal me. I was never hers. We just…we were children, discovering the joys of—”

  Faith held up a hand, stopping him immediately. “I do not need to hear any more.” She wrinkled her nose, absentmindedly twirling her piercing. “Is there somewhere we can talk in private?” She threw a look at Jag, who nodded, took her by the hand, and led her to a tent.

  Just a random tent no one was in. The Malus must not have had assigned tents. They kind of just went wherever they wanted, whenever they wanted, which was too easy going for Faith’s taste. She didn’t like following rules, but some of them were there for a reason. Like the laws of property. If it was her tent, it didn’t belong to anyone else. Good thing she wasn’t a Malus.

  The tent itself was no larger than her bedroom on Earth. Small, with a few bedrolls arranged in a mess around its not-so-circular edge. Jag led her to the middle, sitting them both down. He sat across from her, his blue gaze repentant.

  “I’m sorry,” he began, grabbing her hands. “I should’ve told you, prepared you for that. And I should’ve stopped her from kissing me, but it all happened so fast and I—”

  Faith didn’t want to hear anymore, for the more he spoke, the more sorrowful he appeared, and she hated it. She leaned forward, bringing her lips to his, hushing him with a kiss. A kiss she hoped was better than the one Azelia gave him.

  But how could it be better when it was just a soft peck? Those damn pesky doubts.

  “It’s okay,” Faith said after pulling her mouth from his. “I’m not mad at you.”

  He gave her an incredulous expression. “You’re…not?”

  “Oh, don’t get me wrong. I was furious at first, but then I realized I can’t be mad at you for that.” Faith’s gaze fell to her lap. She sat on her feet, tucked tightly under her ass. It was uncomfortable, but it was how she often sat.

  Jag’s ears fell. “Is this because…”

  Yes, he must’ve heard when Light heard. Damn it. Faith was hoping to cut it off, to assure both men she was never going to keep it a secret from them.

  “While you guys were gone,” she started, burying her face in her hands, “I kissed Finn.” When she withdrew her face from her hands and met Jag’s stare, her face flushed. She never wanted to lie to them, to any of them. She didn’t want to hurt them, either.

  “You kissed Finn, or Finn kissed you?” Jag clarified, as if it mattered. And it didn’t matter. Not in the way he thought.

  “Both,” Faith said, shoulders slumping when she noticed Jag had done the same at the word. “I was never going to hide it from you. I was going to tell you. I didn’t want you finding out from…”

  “Light’s good old mother?” Jag forced a smile and a shrug. “Don’t take it personally. She doesn’t like Humans. She was bound to have other issues with you, even if she didn’t catch you with someone else.”

  “Are you mad at me?” She posed a similar question to him.

  Faith’s question made Jag lean closer to her, swipe the hair off her shoulder and nuzzle her neck, rubbing himself against her skin. “I’m not. I want to be, but,” he paused, breathing out a warm breath on her neck, “after my misstep, I have no right to be. Even though I hate the Human, and I think he’s one step away from the attractiveness of dirt, I’m not mad.” As he withdrew his face, he added, “Plus, I did kind of suspect something was going on between you two, even before the night he kissed you and you yelled at him.” He grinned.

  He wasn’t mad? Faith honestly hadn’t expected this outcome once in the last few days since the kiss. She decided to take it one step further, since Jag seemed to be in a compliant mood, “If Finn wanted to…”

  Shit. She didn’t know how to say it without sounding like she wanted all the dicks. That wasn’t true. She didn’t want all the dicks. Just a few. Maybe—and not because of their dick nature, but for the men the dicks were attached to. The dicks themselves were just a bonus.

  Even though she didn’t say it, Jag knew precisely what she meant. His eyes squinted, though a smile grew on his face. “Maybe if you convinced me.” He waggled his eyebrows comically, signaling his intent. And then, without another warning, he pushed her to the ground, crawling over her in the dirt.

  Faith let out a laugh. “Jag, do you ever think of anything else?” Not that she was complaining. She’d never complain when it came to Jag. She might not have been a fan of the Malus way of doing it all out in the open for everybody and their
brother to watch, but she did love how he always had to touch her, to feel her presence.

  “When it comes to you? Only sometimes.” Jag’s response was coupled with a slow, deep kiss as his hands traveled up her chest. His body pressed down upon her, especially his midsection, signaling he was already growing hard. It didn’t take much for him to get excited.

  When Jag started to kiss her neck and her jaw, Faith pushed him off her, just enough she was able to say “I have to talk to the others” before Jag swiped away her hands and kissed her again. The Malus wouldn’t take no for an answer. His desire for her was evident in the way his legs intertwined with hers, how he angled her neck so he could deepen their kiss, and the hardness pressing against her thigh.

  Just when she was going to lose herself in him, just when Faith was about to say the others could wait, she heard a masculine voice outside the tent demand, “Where is she? That other Malus said she left her here—”

  Speak of the devil. Finn.

  Jag rolled off her, adjusting himself beneath his pants with a mumble, “They have the best timing, don’t they?”

  They? Was Light with him? Was Cam?

  Faith quickly sat up before Finn and Light stormed into the tent. Right. No Cam. If it was Cam, Faith probably would’ve heard about it. He had his reasons for keeping outside of the camp. As she turned to look at them, she stifled a gasp.

  Light bled from numerous cuts on his face. His lip was cracked and his cheekbones looked as though they were starting to bruise. Finn looked better, but his nose bled like it was broken.

  They both looked like shit.

  She struggled to get to her feet. “What the hell happened to you guys?” Faith shook her head. “Don’t tell me you two did this to each other.”

  Behind her, Jag quipped, “Faith, don’t ask them to lie to you.” His joke earned him a glare from both Light and Finn. “What? It’s obvious you two got into a little tizzy because one of you kissed Faith and the other is upset about it. Have you let it all out? Can we move on now?”

  Light’s gaze traveled around the tent, finding that they were alone. “Am I supposed to just let it go?”