by C. R. Jane
I sigh in exasperation. "I appreciate it, but we really need to get going. They're waiting for me."
"You're the Queen. Keep them waiting," Storm says lazily, leaning against the wall, his formal uniform hugging his perfect body. Oh, how I wish I could take it off him. I'm rather hormonal tonight. Maybe it's because I really hate balls, or because this is the first important one I'm hosting as the Queen. Before, it was always my mother who organised these things, but now that she's gone, it's my task to do so. The people expect this Samhain to be just like the last, even though they have a new Queen. For the past few months, the Realm has been in mourning, but now, people are desperate for some entertainment. I didn't have a choice but let this ball happen. Worst of all, they expect me to not only attend, but also to dance in front of everyone. Dancing is just as bad as wearing dresses. Even though my body seems to know how to do it, I still feel like an elephant amongst prancing horses.
A short knock on the door is all the warning I get before Tamara bursts into the room. She's the only person in the entire Realm - except for my Guardians, of course - who's allowed to do that. Officially, she's the Head of the Household, but in reality, she's our spy mistress as well as my friend.
"Everyone's waiting!" she huffs, out of breath. "But what in the Realms are you wearing?"
She's ogling me as if I'm dressed in rags. Which comes fairly close to the truth.
"Well, we can't have that. Let me give you something better."
I sigh in relief. Tamara is an angel in the disguise of an old woman. She shuffles over to my wardrobe and looks inside.
"No... no... no... this might work."
She pulls out two dresses, then, to my great excitement, rips one of them into two pieces. Even though I'm the Queen, I'm far too scared of our seamstress to do something like that myself. That woman is a beast who likes to prick me with needles. She would do well as a torturer, but I don't have need of one. Yes, there are dungeons in the Palace, but we treat our prisoners well.
Tamara takes the black sash from the ruined dress and wraps it around the waist of the other one. She uses a bit of magic to merge the two dresses. One day, I need to learn how to do such magic. I'm a Goddess; I'm sure I can somehow figure it out. I still don't have a clue about how extensive my powers are now. I was born as a demigoddess and I never knew I was going to change into something more powerful. When it happened, it was a bit of a shock, but I've got more or less used to it by now. Teleporting is kind of handy, and as everyone's scared of me, things get done rather quickly. Okay, maybe not scared. I guess it's a very healthy respect.
"There you go," Tamara says with a smile and hands me the new dress. It looks a lot simpler than the weird pumpkin gown I'm currently wearing. Thank the Gods. I couldn't deal with any more frills today.
She helps me change while the guys watch me without an ounce of shame. Guess they've seen me naked often enough already. It's almost a year now since we first met, since they helped me control my magic and led me to this Realm. Does that mean we should celebrate our anniversary? No, that seems a bit strange. I don't even know if people here do that kind of thing. Most Guardians don't have one permanent relationship; they change partners rather often or are with several at the same time. When you're immortal, life can get boring very quickly.
"Much better," Tamara grins and makes me turn around, presenting my altered dress from all sides.
"I liked the pumpkin look," Crispin complains and I shoot him an evil glare.
"You can wear it, if you want," I tell him sharply and he holds up his hands in mock horror.
"I'm not a dress person," he mutters, making me smile. One day, I need to force him to wear a dress. All of my guys. Now that would be a funny sight. Of course, Arc always wears skirts, although he'd kill me if he knew I was calling his kilt a skirt in my mind. He's very proud of his Scottish identity, and kilts are a major part of that.
"I think we've wasted enough time. Everyone's waiting. Shall we go?"
Tamara takes my hand and leads me out of the room before I can even protest. She's the least respectful person I know, and that's why I love her. With her around, I'll never become an arrogant, self-absorbed Queen.
The ball is as bright and garish as my pumpkin dress. The Great Hall is dressed in autumn colours, the reds and yellows far too extreme for my taste. It looks like a child threw paint at the walls without caring about the results. Next time, I might take more of an interest in the ball preparations, so I can avoid a sight like this.
At the dais, a host of important guests are already assembled. All of them are Gods and Goddesses from other Realms, including Dewi, the Goddess of Autumn. She waves at me, happily ignoring court protocol. She's not always an easy person to be around, but she's refreshingly normal. Just like me, she used to be a demigoddess and grew up on Earth, except that she lived among dragon shifters while I was adopted by a human family. I look around the hall for my adoptive father. He's not there. I sigh inwardly. He's become a bit of a hermit, spending all day in the Palace Library. My mother's death has changed him, has changed all of us. I might see if I can persuade him to join us later. If I have to endure the torture of the Samhain ball, then he has to, too.
A herald standing by the main doors blows his trumpet, then shouts, "Please stand for Queen Wynter of the Winter Realm, Goddess of Winter, Slayer of the Morrigan and her demon army, Bringer of Peace, our benevolent and beloved Queen!"
Everyone in the hall rises, staring at me. Oh, how I hate this kind of thing.
I walk through the hall as fast as possible, followed by my Guardians. Tamara has disappeared somewhere along the way; she doesn't like being in the limelight. Just like me, except that I can't escape it.
There are cheers and claps, but I ignore them, a smile plastered on my face, hopefully looking slightly natural. I should at least pretend that I'm enjoying my own party.
I reach the dais in record time and sink onto my throne with a sigh of relief. It's no longer the icicle throne my mother used, but a more comfortable, soft version that I had made for me. As much as I admire my late mother, I'm not her and I'm working hard on letting people know that I'm my own person. I grew up among humans and that's influenced the way I think. Slowly, I'm trying to loosen some of the old-fashioned traditions that have been part of court routine for centuries, or longer even. There's resistance, of course, but I can handle that.
My men take a seat below the dais, with some of the other officers. I wish they'd sit up here with me, but today, I have to be surrounded by other Gods and Goddesses. Luckily, only the nice ones are sitting here with me, the others are further away. I must thank Tamara later for organising the seating order. Looking at what other Gods have turned up, I'm very lucky sitting between Dewi and Thor. The God of Thunder is busy talking to his brother, so I turn to Dewi.
"You look lovely," she says with a laugh. The Autumn Goddess is wearing a snug dress that reminds me of leaves sewn together. Not everyone could pull that off, but Dewi certainly can. She could wear a woollen blanket and still look stunning.
"I trust you had a pleasant journey?" I ask and she snickers.
"Are you trying to do small talk with me?"
I shrug. "Worth a try. I'm still working on the whole diplomacy thing."
"Keep it for the other Gods," she suggests. "You know I don't care for small talk. Besides, we have more important things to discuss."
Her smile wavers and it suddenly seems forced.
"What's wrong?" I ask, lowering my voice.
She locks eyes with me. "Do you believe in ghosts?"
I almost laugh out loud. "Ghosts? Seriously?"
She doesn't smile. "Yes. Ghosts. Do you believe in them?
"
"No, I don't believe in ghosts. What's wrong, Dewi?"
"I saw someone who's dead," she whispers. "He died in battle but this morning, on the way here, I saw him."
I can't help but frown. As much as I live in a world full of magic and unicorns, ghosts aren't supposed to be part of that. I've never heard of ghosts existing in the Realms, nor anywhere, really. I'm pretty sure they're just stories.
"Could it have been someone else?" I ask, trying to keep the scepticism out of my voice. "A relative of the man who died, perhaps?"
"No, it was him, no doubt about that. And he was translucent. Like a ghost."
"What?"
"He. Was. Translucent," she repeats as if I'm deaf. "A ghost. A wraith. Whatever. I have no idea, but I don't like it."
"Did he talk to you?"
She shakes his head with a look of regret. "No, he disappeared before I could say something."
"Who is he?"
To my surprise, she blushes slightly. "A former lover. From before I met Agierth."
"What was his name?"
"Kragon. I met him on Earth in the dragon shifter colony. We were together for two years…" She sighs and takes a sip from her wine glass. "He died in the Dragon Wars shortly after we split up. I don't think he ever quite got over me ending it."
"So now you think he's haunting you?"
"Haunting?" a deep voice suddenly asks from my left. "Is my beauty haunting you?"
Thor grins and leans over, presenting his thick muscles. As always, he's wearing a sleeveless leather tunic and black leather trousers that are far too tight for a man of his stature. Golden warbands are curving around his biceps and his wrists. He's very masculine and - even I have to admit - rather sexy, but I'm completely happy with my four Guardians, and besides, he's married. I think flirting is his hobby; he doesn't actually mean it. He's loyal to his wife and daughter, even though most women in the universe would happily go to bed with the God of Thunder.
"Shut up, Thor," Dewi tells him in annoyance. "This is serious."
"What's going on?" he asks and she sighs.
"I'm being haunted by my ex. Do you have any experience with ghosts?"
Chapter 2
"You're lucky you're young," Frost says with a wide grin. "Otherwise you might have scores of dead ex-boyfriends stalking you."
We've retired to my sitting room, leaving the other guests in the Great Hall. They won't miss me anyway. I just have to be back in an hour or so to open the dance, but until then, they're busy eating.
"He's not my only ex," Dewi quips. "But he's the only dead one. Or not. I don't know. Is a ghost alive?"
"He can't be a ghost," Storm says determinedly. "Ghosts don't exist."
"Wrong."
We all turn to Crispin.
"What?" I ask. "Are you saying ghosts are real?"
He nods. "Not ghosts as you might imagine. They're not dead people stuck between the living world and the next. No, they're servants of a sorcerer."
"Wait, what?" I repeat. "A sorcerer? Please explain."
"It's something I learned while I was with the Morrigan. If you're a strong enough sorcerer, you can create your own ghostly servants. They can take on any form you wish, so you could easily model them on someone you know. Or knew, in this case."
"But why would anyone create a servant that looks like Kragon?" Dewi asks, her voice bordering on hysterical. "He wasn't anyone important, just a young dragon soldier. He didn't know any sorcerers, and neither do I."
Crispin shrugs. "I have no idea, I'm just telling you what I know. There aren't many sorcerers strong enough to create these ghost servants anyway. The Morrigan would have been able to, but she's dead. Maybe some higher demons. Gods too, of course, although they can create Guardians so I don't think they'd resort to making ghosts. That just wouldn't make any sense."
"None of this makes sense," I mutter. "Are we sure this is the only way ghosts can exist? Maybe there are real ghosts, too?"
Thor chuckles. "Every culture has legends of ghosts. Everyone wants to believe there's a life after death, and ghosts support that belief. Even here in the Realms, there are tales of the undead, of apparitions and shadows taking on the shape of your loved ones. Right now, during Samhain, the barriers between the Realms are thinner than usual, letting us all travel here much easier - but who's to say other beings can't use this to their advantage as well. Still, I've never actually heard anyone sane speak of seeing a ghost."
"Are you saying I'm not sane?" Dewi asks in outrage. "I'm the sanest person I know."
"Point proven," Thor stage whispers, but then turns to me. "Whether this is a ghost servant, an actual ghost or something else entirely, if he was seen in your Realm, you better deal with it."
I suppress a sigh. He's right, even though this still sounds like humbug to me. Maybe Dewi didn't actually see this man. Maybe it was all in her mind. Still, going on a ghost hunt sounds a lot better than playing host to a Samhain ball.
"Where exactly did you see him?" I ask the Autumn Goddess.
"Near the Western Gate, where I entered your Realm. I'd landed for a quick break and then there he was, hovering over the snow, looking just like I remembered him."
"Let's go there then. But first, I think I have to dance."
Storm's arm is wrapped tightly around my waist, his entire body is guiding me and still, I manage to stumble and step on his toes. He winces but keeps his expression blank. Everyone is looking at us, watching, judging. I feel more uncomfortable than I have in a long time. I hate dancing. I hate everyone staring at me. I hate being so close to one of my men without being able to kiss him, rip his shirt off him... No, Wyn, don't go there.
"Ghosts don't die, right?" Storm suddenly whispers as he swirls me around in something that may have looked elegant to the audience but feels very uncomfortable for me.
"I suppose they don't," I reply when he pulls me close again. "Why?"
"I think we should continue this dance in private. I'd love to see you dance without this dress."
"Only if you dance without your uniform," I whisper into his ear, my lips almost touching his skin.
"Deal. Maybe the others want to join our dance."
"I'd like that."
He grins. "I thought you would."
The prospect of spending some time with my Guardians makes the dance less of a pain. We end with me bent backwards over Storm's arm, my hair touching the floor. I should have worn it in a braid instead of open, but it's too late for that now.
The crowd claps, but luckily, the orchestra starts its next song and immediately, the dance floor fills with couples eager to dance beside the Queen. Pity. They won't get that chance. I have another dance to go to.
I wave and smile and slowly make my way towards the main doors, taking a deep breath once we're out of view.
There are a few guests standing around the vestibule, chatting in small groups, probably plotting some kind of intrigue, but we ignore them. Just moments after we've left the Great Hall, my other men arrive.
"I thought you were going to dance with all of us," Frost complains. "Why is it always my brother who gets to have all the fun?"
Arc and Crispin look a little disgruntled as well.
"We're going to continue this in our rooms," I say quickly before they can start to argue. "Just the five of us. We don't need an audience for our next dance."
Their expressions lighten. To emphasise my point, I hold out my hand and they all take it, knowing what I'm about to do.
With a simple thought, I teleport us into the Royal Quarters. I flick my hand and make a yellow shimmer appear around the door frame, showing the guards th
at I'm inside while at the same time muffling all sound.
Now that I've teleported us, the guys could step away and let go of my hand, but they don't. Instead, all four of them are looking at me with the same hungry expression. I wonder if the same look is plastered on my face. I wouldn't be surprised. My insides are twitching in anticipation and heat is pooling between my legs. It's been too long. The last few nights, it's always just been one or two of my men, not all four. Now, this is going to change.
I grin and remove all our clothes with a single push of magic.
Arc begins to laugh. "No foreplay, my Queen?"
I smile at him. "I want to dance. Show me your best moves."
"With pleasure." He holds out a hand and I take it. He wraps his other arm around my waist and then we begin, moving to music only we can hear, our naked bodies touching for just a moment, then going apart again. I have goosebumps all over by the time we change our rhythm to something slower. I'm imagining a slow waltz and step closer to Arc until his hard cock presses against my belly. My nipples are perky and swollen and having them rub against his chest makes them even harder. This was a bad idea. I'll never manage to dance with all four of my guys before I want my release. Already I'm a mess and I want nothing more than feel Arc inside me.
"My turn," Crispin says from behind me and before I can even react, I'm in his arms, skin on skin, lips on lips. He kisses me hard, much harder than I'm used to from him. His hardness calls to me and I slip a hand between us, wrapping it around his cock.
"That's not dancing!" Storm complains but I ignore him. Right now, who cares about dancing. All I want is my men. With me, in me, on me, whatever. I want them close.
I nudge Crispin's lips with my tongue until he opens his mouth and lets me in. I savour his taste, that hint of cinnamon and clove that's become so familiar yet is still as tantalising as the first time.
"Wyn, behind me!" Storm suddenly shouts, his voice so full of alarm that I step away from Crispin and lose control of my magic. Again. Flames begin to circle my arms and hands, but at least they're not hurting my men. In any other situation, I'd admonish Storm for being so overprotective - after all, I'm the most powerful person in this entireRealm - but when I see what he's pointing at, I totally understand his concern.
