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The Fellowship: A Reverse Harem Fantasy (The Harbinger Book 2)

Page 7

by Candace Wondrak


  The words brought a smile to her face. Good. She liked hearing that.

  “Come,” Cam spoke, “we should tell them the news. I know Jag will be waiting impatiently.”

  Cam, fortunately for her, seemed to know the castle grounds pretty well. He was able to lead her to the room with not even a single wrong turn. Impressive, considering how many wrong turns she would have taken if she were the leader. She should know her way around, but she didn’t. The pieces of memories were not fitting together in her head, like parts were missing. She knew some things inexplicably, like Springstone and where it was, but not others, like where to go in the castle.

  Not castle. Palace. The Elves called it a palace.

  The moment they entered the room, Jag and Light abruptly halted their conversation, their eyes on her. Again, she wondered if she could handle this. It wasn’t like she had anyone she could go to and ask for advice. Even if her mother and grandma were around, she knew what they’d say. Christine would tell her to go for a woman and not a man, let alone three of them, and Penelope would tell her that she’s stupid for getting involved with anyone while there was a job to do. And there was always a job to do, so in her mother’s eyes it was never a good time to get involved.

  “Hi,” Faith said, sounding about as awkward as she felt.

  Light gave her a stupefied nod while Jag rushed to her side. His stare traveled down her, slowly moving its way back up as he asked, “Did Cam tell you that we—”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “And you—”

  “I said yes,” Faith said, instantly noting the huge smile on his face. The goofiest grin she’d seen in a long time. As she blinked, he was suddenly rubbing his face on her neck, on her cheek, much like he’d done right after she woke. She laughed, which caused him to pull away and give her a curious expression. “You’re like a cat.”

  “A cat?” Jag said, while behind him Light began laughing hard.

  “Yeah, you know, feline, furry and cute. And those ears, I’m dying to touch them.” Faith went to reach for his ears, but he quickly pulled away, aghast that she would not only call him cute but also wish to touch his ears.

  Light moved between her and the confused, startled, and somewhat miffed Jag, staring down at her with those eyes that she’d grown so used to when she was here before. Before she knew who she was, before she knew what she had to do. He bent for her, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her into his chest, her nose smashing with the leather there. “Did you have to sleep for so long?” he whispered. “I was beyond worried about you.”

  Faith turned her head up to him. “It’s not like I did it on purpose. Trust me, if I could’ve woken up, I would have.” Light reluctantly let her go, and she wandered to the tall windows, staring out through the clean, transparent glass.

  She wondered if she should tell them about the small, teeny-tiny fact that she spent her unconscious hours—or days?—with the Dread King. How would they react? Would they take it badly? They’d probably freak out over her, ask her a million times if he hurt her or tried to. That was what they expected him to do.

  But…Faith wasn’t certain. Yes, he might’ve been aggressive toward her. Sure, he displayed a lot of things she never wanted to see in a boyfriend. And of course the majority of things he said upset her. But at the same time, amongst all of that, even though she cried because she did not want to be like him, there was something present, a tiny fleck of some emotion other than hatred and rage rooted deep inside her. Probably all thanks to Ophelia and her suggestion of sleeping with him. If it weren’t for that, Faith could’ve escaped from that water world without even thinking about running her hands down his hard chest and touching his scale-free ass.

  Did he hurt her? Well, making her cry wasn’t exactly hurting her. She could get sensitive. She could definitely overreact, and she wouldn’t go so far as to say he hurt her emotionally. He did threaten to…make her his before killing her, but if Faith was honest, that didn’t sound too objectionable.

  God, was she messed up or what?

  Terribly messed up. As messed up as she could be, wanting to get down and dirty with a dragon-like man who was supposed to be her worst enemy. She was just a girl in a long line of Harbinger men. Did that mean that she’d automatically want to get freaky with the guy? No, but since it was her and not someone else, it kind of did.

  No, Faith decided. She couldn’t tell them. Not without lying to them. They couldn’t know how warm the Dread King made her stomach and other parts feel. They definitely couldn’t know that she stared at him quite a lot, every part of him as it hung there, while they were naked.

  She let out a slow breath just thinking about it. Damn. Faith had to get a hold of herself, otherwise bad things were going to happen.

  “Is there,” she asked, turning to the guys, “a room with a bath or something?” Faith knew enough not to hope for a shower. Not here.

  Light nodded. “I can take you there.”

  Camden didn’t argue, and Jag simply hopped on the bed, muttering, “Don’t be gone too long now, you hear?” He threw a wink at Faith, which made her insides twist even more. As if he knew she and Light were going to do some naughty things.

  Faith would prove them wrong. Her mind was not always in the gutter. Besides, she had to rest tonight, for tomorrow would in all odds be an insanely long day. No man was going to wear her out.

  That’s what she thought as she let Light lead her through the palace, across the great white hall, and into the other wing of the sprawling building. That’s what she, perhaps naively, thought as Light stopped in front of a door-less room, where a stone archway led to a room full of steaming water. She stopped thinking that, however, the moment Light pushed her against the wall once they were out of the hallway.

  His lips met hers before she could blink, his feet apart and his back bent down to her to accommodate their height difference. Fast and hungry, he acted like he wanted to devour her as his fingers weaved through her hair. It all happened so fast; Faith couldn’t even kiss him back before he pulled away enough to murmur, “I don’t know if I can share you, Faith. You are my smelly Human.”

  That got her to smile. His hands still held her face, angled to his. Her lips tingled with the absence of his, wanting more. “Then why did you—”

  “I don’t want to lose you,” he said. “Plus, Jag is very persistent.”

  “Are you going to be jealous?”

  “Of course I am.” Blunt and to the point, exactly the reason why she liked him so much. Light’s hands fell from her hair, and he started tracing her jaw, her collarbone. “But, as long as you are happy, I suppose I am happy as well.”

  His touch, just a light dusting of fingertips across her skin, made her inhale sharply. Faith was slow to say, “Good. Keep playing nice, and maybe next time you can touch me with my shirt off.” She was only teasing, but the look he gave her caused her heart to speed up.

  He was serious for only a moment, then Light chuckled as he recalled their time in the stump. “That was an accident, at the time.”

  “At the time?”

  “Oh, yes. I was mortified, as you were.”

  Faith baited him, “But now?”

  He breathed out a low, steady breath, his voice a bare whisper as he replied, “Now I would gladly touch every inch of you, and the last thing I would call you is repulsive.” He finished his words with a final kiss before leaving, giving her privacy she did not ask for.

  Hell. She was so worked up that if he would’ve said a word more, she would’ve begged him to stay. Ah, well. Win some, lose some.

  Faith wandered to the bath. It was, in itself, larger than the entire bathroom she was used to while growing up. Perks of living in an apartment in New York, right? The room was practically as big as her whole apartment, with inlaid tiles that swirled with flat, shiny crystals. The Elves certainly adored their shiny things. She was partial to bathrooms with doors, but she would have to make do.

  As Faith stripped o
ut of her clothes, leaving them in a pile near her boots, she swept up her hair as she stepped down into the water, taking it slow. It wasn’t as warm as she wished it was, nowhere near the level of hotness her showers were, but at least it wasn’t cold. Cold water she could not handle, not even a little bit.

  She sank into the water, breathing a sigh of relief once she was submerged to her neck. The bath had seats lining each side of it, making for a comfortable relaxing time. She sat with her front to the archway; at least she’d see anyone if they came in. Under the water, she moved her hands. This was probably the last time she’d bathe in a while, unless the occasional stream or river counted. Alyna was plentiful with them, her fragmented memories knew, but if they should venture outside of Elven lands? She had no memories of other kingdoms, even though the odds were that past Harbingers had been outside of Alyna.

  In other words, she did not look forward to bathing with the fish and whatever else swam in this world’s waters. Hopefully there was nothing like leeches; Faith grew grossed-out at the mere thought. She dunked her head to get her hair wet.

  A part of her still couldn’t believe what happened, what she agreed to. She wasn’t even sure what she agreed to. Were they going to expect sex immediately and all the time? That wouldn’t work, not with the other stuff she had to do, like stopping the Dread King from rising and all that. And as for the sex part, even though she had certain kinks herself, she’d never actually done the deed. Kissed, sure. A few other things, yes. But the actual deed itself? She was still green when it came to that.

  She had a feeling she wouldn’t be green for long though, which was more than all right to her. If she was going to possibly die here, she didn’t want to do it a virgin. Now she had three guys who would be very willing to help her with that.

  Chapter Twelve

  All Jag could think about was her smile. He laid on the bed, stretched out. He wanted to do two things. The first was to take the trousers he wore off, for they itched and didn’t quite fit him right. Clothes on Malus were uncomfortable, especially pants. Depending on the markings and tribe, Malus had extra things that other races didn’t have. The claws on their feet made shoes almost impossible to wear. Some Malus had tails like him, which could be stuffed into pants, but they shouldn’t be.

  Everything and everyone was better when there were no clothes involved, regardless of the situation. Jag was a firm believer of that, and his mind would never be changed.

  “If you want to see her,” Camden spoke from his corner, “go to her.”

  Jag sat, looking at the Elf-turned-Ulen. “I do, I know—but I should give Light some time. He has known her the longest. She probably likes him best, anyway.” He didn’t know why he said that, only that he did. He was confident in himself, but he was also realistic. Her people had such fine, almost translucent hair on most of their bodies. She might very well find Light attractive for that reason alone.

  Rubbing his arm, Jag watched as his hand ran over his short, black fur. Even blacker circles, most broken in places, dotted the areas on his body that had the fur—which was next to all of him. His face was where it tapered out, and his stomach was another place where it became thinner, near-nonexistent. What if Faith viewed him like an animal and not the intelligent, smart, exceedingly handsome fellow he was?

  “Don’t say that,” Camden told him. “She likes you too, I could see it when she looked at you, when you were rubbing yourself all over her.” His voice sounded disgusted somewhat, as if he had any room to talk. He probably wanted to drink her or something even more distasteful.

  “It’s a Malus thing,” Jag said.

  Camden managed a smile, though it fell off his grey face shortly after. “I know. You are a very clingy race.”

  “I am choosing to take that as a compliment,” Jag said, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed as he wondered if any of them would get to sleep on it with Faith. “So, she likes me?” By the tribes—he sounded like an unseasoned Malus seeking to attract a mate for the first time. “You’re sure that wasn’t all for Light?”

  As if hearing he was being spoken about, Light entered the room, his long legs taking him to where his bow sat, leaning against the wall. His quiver, full of arrows, sat near it. “What was all for me?” he questioned, taking his bow and trading places with it, pressing his back on the wall.

  Jag met his stare, wondering why he was back so soon. Surely, he couldn’t have done anything in such a short amount of time.

  “Jag was wondering if Faith only likes you,” Camden spoke honestly, earning him a glare from Jag. What a tattler. “I was attempting to convince him otherwise, but he is thickheaded, isn’t he?”

  Light smiled, nodding along in agreement which made Jag turn his glare from Camden to him. “Very much so.”

  With a sigh, Camden added, “If only there was someone here who could enlighten him.”

  “I would say I hate you both, but my hatred is reserved for two beings,” Jag said, jumping to his feet. “The first, which should be dreadfully obvious, is the Dread King. The second is Finn.”

  “Well,” Light muttered, not taking any of it personally, “at least we’re not lumped in with them, I suppose.”

  “Yes,” Jag said, heading for the door. “You should feel lucky.” The last thing he saw was Light wave him off as he chuckled. For once, Jag did not mean it as a joke, but it seemed that next to everything that came out of his mouth sounded like a joke anyway. The curse of being him. It could be worse, though. He could be fated to battle with the first Dracon High King until the end of the world.

  Yes, Faith had it worse.

  Being Malus, Jag had no clue where he was going, but he knew that if he asked Light for directions, he’d probably lead him in the very opposite direction. He did have a good sense of smell, though, and if he found her in a huge city in the Middleworld, he’d find her again in the palace. He passed a few guards on his walk. Jag was able to walk to the correct room within five minutes, and what he saw was not what he imagined he would.

  Faith, sitting in the water, submerged to her mouth, blowing bubbles out of her lips. He tried choking the laugh that came but he failed, and she straightened immediately, looking up at him from across the water.

  “I didn’t know this was play time,” Jag said, stepping into the room. He knelt down, dipping a hand in the water to test the temperature. Warm enough, though he was certain they could make it hotter.

  “Obviously,” Faith said, rising enough so that her mouth was no longer under the water. A toe appeared in the center of the bath, and then a foot as she pointed it to him. “I didn’t know you were there.”

  “I’m not teasing you,” he said. “In fact, I’d join you, if I was invited.”

  “I didn’t know you needed an invitation.”

  “Better safe than sorry, right?” He rose his eyebrows.

  Faith eyed him up before asking, “Care to join me, Jag?”

  A slow smile spread across his face as he said, “Thought you’d never ask.” Jag dropped his pants instantly, standing for a moment as he muttered to himself, “That feels so much better.” He noticed her staring at him, not at him precisely but what was behind him, finally and wholly free from the restrictive pants.

  “Your tail is so cute,” she said, grinning.

  He was the only one in their group not only with so much fur, but with such extremities. Again with the word cute, too. Perhaps she meant it as a term of endearment? Jag cocked his head as he asked, “Are you saying you don’t like my tail?”

  “No,” she quickly said, “no. I like it.” She wrinkled her nose, the metal dot in it moving only a little.

  Jag still wasn’t sure if he liked that adjective or not. “Cute,” he repeated, lowering himself into the water opposite her. “I don’t want to be cute,” he said, his voice a bare whisper as he stood in the center of the bath, the water up to his chest.

  “Then what do you want to be?”

  “Stunningly handsome,” Jag said,
taking another step towards her. “The most gorgeous man you’ve ever met.”

  Faith reclined on the stone behind her, inhaling a breath. As she did so, the top of her chest rose out of the water, and Jag couldn’t help but wonder what the rest of her looked like. “I don’t know,” she mused with a sly grin, “I’ve met a lot of guys.”

  “I’m confident,” he whispered. It was so hard to keep his eyes locked with hers; all he wanted to do was look down.

  She bit her lip, and for a second all he could think about was doing the same, biting those lips himself. “Can I…” He was fairly sure he would give in to whatever she asked. “Can I touch your ears?”

  That again? Were they that enticing?

  Jag was not in the habit of letting anyone other than himself touch his ears, but he would make an exception for her. “Fine,” he slowly said, “but only if I can touch yours as well.” He waded through the water, sitting beside her as she turned to face him. Their legs touched and he had to hold himself back from pulling her onto his lap.

  Faith smiled as she said, “All right, but mine are boring—” She reached out of the water, fingers lightly touching the fuzzy ear on the side of his head that was closest to her. “—and nowhere near as adorable.” She held his ear between her thumb and her forefinger, rubbing it softly.

  “Adorable?” Jag echoed. “Is that what you think I am?”

  She met his eyes, seemingly daring him to say something else. “What, are you going to prove me wrong?”

  One of his arms lifted out of the water, enveloping her shoulders as he replied, “I intend to, yes.” Before she was finished with his ear, Jag went after hers. He did not want to touch them with his hands. He would touch them with his mouth. He nibbled her earlobe, causing her to shiver and let out a soft sound of pleasure.

  “That’s…not what I thought you’d do,” she managed to whisper. A better-sounding breathy and airy voice he had never before heard. “That’s—” She inhaled when he moved his lips to her neck, biting her gently. “—Jag.”

 

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