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

by Candace Wondrak

  Cam held out a hand, stopping them all. His cloudy eyes squinted. “Something’s happening in town. There are guards everywhere.” The Ulen and their super-senses. “Stay here, let me go on ahead, see if I can figure out what’s wrong. It looks like quite the commotion.”

  Faith narrowed her eyes toward the outskirts of Springsweet, but she couldn’t focus on anything. “I’m sure it’s got nothing to do with us.” Well, she hoped it had nothing to do with them.

  It was Light who responded firmly, “No. Cam’s right. After everything that’s happened, we can’t be too careful—”

  “Especially now that the Dead King is alive,” Finn muttered.

  “Dread King.” Jag shrugged when Finn threw him a glare. “What? It’s not my fault you can’t say it right.”

  “I don’t like you,” Finn went on, crossing his arms only to have Jag mimic him.

  “I don’t like you, either.”

  Before they could carry on their macho contest, Cam spoke quietly, “I will be back.” The grey-painted Elf gave Faith a lingering glance before running off, quieter than a mouse. No, definitely quieter than any animal. Noiseless. She would not want to get on his bad side.

  As the guys dispersed in the wooded area, keeping close by, Faith found a root that was about the level of a chair and sat on it. It took only a moment for one of the guys to sit beside her—Light. She met his blue eyes. Such a beautiful color, deeper than the ocean, clearer than the sky. She couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the same way about her eyes, though it’d be more like greener than the forest and as pure as emeralds or something like that.

  Light said nothing as he reached for her hand, squeezing it gently. His finger traced her knuckles, and for a moment, she allowed herself to relax and enjoy the simplicity of now. The Dread King was far from her mind. The fact that they failed in getting to the bones before he rose? Forgotten, temporarily. Faith breathed in and out, closing her eyes and leaning her head on his shoulder.

  More like her forehead on his upper arm, but the thought was there.

  “You do know that there was nothing you could’ve done to stop it, right?” Light whispered, breaking through her relaxation. He was careful in adding, “Whatever happens, we’re with you.”

  “How am I supposed to win against him? He’s…” Big, strong, powerful. Everything Faith wasn’t.

  “You will.” Light’s voice dripped sincerity. “We will, together.”

  Faith moved her head as she opened her eyes, giving him a smile. “Thank you. You’re not so bad sometimes, Sunnytoes.”

  He returned her smile with a silly grin, tugging on her hand. “I’ve gotten better, I think. I also think it’s time to give Sunnytoes a rest. Bury it, say goodbye to it, and never speak it again.”

  It was true. The time of Sunnytoes was over. He was Light to her now; he would always be Light. Light with the beautiful blue eyes and sandy blonde hair. Light, the Elven hunter who was one cocky son of a bitch deep down, who supposedly hated Humans because they smelled and were, also allegedly, disgusting. He was her Light, just as she was his Faith.

  Another deep voice broke into her reverie, musing, “I think I’m going to start calling you Sunnytoes from now on.” Jag wore a stupid, lopsided grin, the black tufts of hair on his head sticking in every direction. He was in desperate need of a comb.

  From his position nearby, Finn nearly smacked himself as he whispered, “I’m surrounded by idiots.”

  “You know what that means?” Faith asked him, hating herself for noting how attractive he looked in that I.D. hunter’s uniform. Very slimming. Helped define all the muscles on him. Made his hair look even redder. When Finn met her gaze, she said, “It means you’re also an idiot. You’re one of us, Finn.” She felt herself smiling. “How does that make you feel?”

  Finn rubbed the back of his neck as he muttered, “Great. Just…great.”

  Chuckling, Faith closed her eyes once more. If she spent any longer looking at Finn’s pouting face, she might start to like him again, and that was not something she needed to do.

  A half hour passed before Cam returned to them, another hooded Elf in tow. Jag and Finn readied for a fight while Light simply stood and asked, “Tarnel?” Beneath the hood sat the grey-eyed Elf who had interrupted Light and Faith during their first makeout session. His grey gaze flicked from Faith to Light, and then back to Faith, wordlessly saying he knew all about them.

  And he did. He didn’t know the whole story, though.

  “What’s the situation?” Light asked.

  The expression on Tarnel’s face said it all: not good. “The Court is in upheaval. Now is not a good time for you to make your return.” He paused, his back straightening beneath his cloak. He, Faith noticed, did not wear the guard’s armor anymore. “Something terrible has happened…Bul’ara is dead.”

  No one seemed more shocked than Light and Cam.

  “There is much fighting for the seat…and other things I cannot speak of.”

  “Who can speak of them?” Light demanded.

  “Frey.”

  That wasn’t what Faith wanted to hear. Frey was not her favorite Elf. Not by a longshot. Hell, she liked Finn better than Frey, and that was saying something.

  Tarnel went on, “I can bring Frey here before nightfall. He will be better able to explain where I cannot.” He reached for his hood, hiding his face once again before walking off, leaving Faith and her guys wondering just what the heck was happening.

  Bul’ara was dead?

  Was she murdered?

  Finn spoke once the group was alone, “You’re sure we can trust him?”

  “Tarnel is a loyal friend,” Light said, sighing.

  “We don’t have much choice, do we?” Faith muttered, though deep within her mind she recalled the Fae in that reverse waterworld, the Fae who told her to travel to the edges of Alyna, to the Well. All would be revealed there, she had said.

  But what? What more had to be revealed?

  Hours passed. Faith and her group remained in the forest, close enough to Springsweet but far enough away that they were not noticed. If there were ever patrols in the area, Bul’ara’s death must’ve thrown everything off-balance.

  It still wasn’t sinking in. Bul’ara was dead. Faith didn’t know her that well; she didn’t know any Elf that well besides Light, but she seemed like a good person.

  Then again, maybe Elves were simply good liars.

  Faith didn’t think Light was a liar, though.

  Before night arrived, two Elves wearing matching hoods slowly came from the city. They threw quick looks around before revealing their faces. Tarnel and Frey. Tarnel looked much the same as he did a few hours ago, but Frey? Faith did not remember him seeming so…old. Were there always wrinkles around his amber eyes? He wore a simple outfit beneath his coat, so as to blend in better, no velvet on his person whatsoever, nor did he wear his copper crown. His olive skin seemed craggier, tighter across his bones. The stare that used to house nothing but anger and hatred for Faith and the fact that she was the Harbinger now held a weariness that expressed more than words could say.

  “Apologies for the reception. The Court is not in a stable place currently,” Frey spoke, holding his hands behind his back, looking imposing in spite of how tired he seemed. “Tarnel was wise to instruct you to remain here.”

  “I still don’t understand,” Light said, stepping forward. “What happened to Bul’ara? Why can’t we go into Springsweet?”

  “Bul’ara was poisoned.” Frey’s first answer startled Faith, but only until he spoke again: “And you cannot enter the city because Ophelia has the guards looking for you. She has convinced those who matter that the Harbinger is behind Bul’ara’s illness.”

  That…wasn’t what she expected to hear. Not. At. All.

  Faith bit the inside of her cheek. “Why would she blame us? We haven’t even been here!”

  “You should know that truth matters little,” Frey advised.

  Finn gestured t
o Frey with an off-handed wave. “And you don’t think we did it?”

  Frey stared hard at Finn for a moment before answering, “No. I know you did not, just as I know that it’s Ophelia who is the perpetrator. I have long suspected her of scheming, but never did I suspect she would go to these lengths. To accuse the Harbinger, to make you—” His gaze turned to Faith. “—the villain, an enemy of the Court and all Elvenkind is madness. But I am afraid the people do sway to her side. It is easier to blame an outsider than one of our own.”

  “So what does this mean?” Faith questioned, worry rising in her gut. Whatever it meant, it wasn’t good. She knew that much.

  “It means that you have no allies in Springsweet, except for Tarnel and myself, and those few who are loyal to me. It means us Elven are not on your side, not until this business is taken care of.” Frey frowned, his usual facial expression. “It means you are a wanted criminal here, as ridiculous as that may be.”

  Jag rolled his shoulders, a look of exasperation on his face. “Great. So what do we do now?” He waited, but no one answered.

  “As long as you have the Ageless Blade, it should matter little what you do. Fate always has a way of bringing the Harbinger and the Dread King together. No matter where you go, you will eventually meet.”

  Faith muttered, “You didn’t even ask us how our trip to Springstone went.”

  “You are here, looking downtrodden and anxious. Anyone could infer how your so-called trip went,” Frey told her as he studied her. “You do have the Blade, don’t you? I had my agents leave it with you that night. It was wise to hide it from Ophelia—the one semi-intelligent thing you’ve done so far.”

  “Wait,” Light interjected, holding out a hand. “You’re the one who did that?” Right, because Light was the only other one in the room that night. When he touched the Blade, it had instantly burned him.

  Frey sighed, as if he were annoyed. As if he were a teacher, tired of explaining the same thing over and over to his students. “As I said, I did nothing. My agents did.”

  “We…” Faith was slow to say, figuring she should just come out and say it and get it over with. “We don’t have it. The Blade. It disappeared.” The hearty laugh that came from Frey’s thin chest wasn’t the response she was expecting. She didn’t even make a joke.

  “Perhaps you should look harder, then.” Frey tilted his head, surveying the forest around them. “Whatever you do, you cannot remain here. That does leave us with the question of where you will go.”

  Faith waited for a moment, hoping someone else had any idea. She’d take seriously any other idea, really. Going to the Well, the Cave of Memories or whatever that crazy Fae lady called it, didn’t sound fun. And it sounded a lot farther away than Springstone. Her legs were going to be rock-hard by the time this was over, by the time Dracyrus caught up to them.

  When no one else spoke up, Faith was hesitant to say, “What about the Well?” Everyone turned to look at her like she suddenly sprouted a second head on her shoulder. She gave them all glares. “What about the Cave of Memories? Does that ring anyone’s bell?”

  Turning thoughtful, Frey said, “The Cave of Memories? I am not certain why you would want to go to such a place, for you should have all the memories you need, but it is far enough away from the Court that you might be safe. Last I heard, there was a Malus tribe nearby.” He tossed a dismissive glance to Jag, who prickled in response. “Perhaps they would be better able to direct you to this…Well.”

  That either meant the Well the Fae spoke of did not exist, or it was older than even Frey, though Faith never was able to tell how old Elves were by looking at them. At least, though, he knew of the Cave of Memories.

  Faith glanced at Jag, noticing how uncomfortable he looked. Did he know this tribe? Did he have dealings with them in the past? A worried Jag was a somewhat cute Jag, though this was not the time for thoughts like that. “Do you know the tribe Frey’s talking about? Can you take us there?”

  Finn quipped, “They wouldn’t maul us on first sight, would they?” That earned him a scowl from Jag, of which he simply shrugged off.

  “I probably do,” Jag muttered. “Can’t say they’ll be happy to see me, if it’s the tribe I think it might be, but they won’t attack us. If that’s where we got to go, then…that’s where we go.”

  Nodding once, Frey spoke, “I will send a scout to intercept the emissary from Furen Phyre. My scout will direct him to that corner of Alyna. Remain there until I send for you again. This mess will take a while to sort through, and until you would again be safe walking on Springsweet’s streets, you must bide your time.” He gave Faith one last look that she was sure was supposed to be meaningful before throwing up his hood and following Tarnel back to the city.

  “Huh. Well, isn’t this just one shitshow after another?” Finn offered.

  Light didn’t even dignify that with a reply; instead he stated, “We should go. We can still make good time before night falls.” He was right, of course. They had to get moving.

  Would they ever have any time to take it easy? Faith never missed watching reruns of sitcoms with her grandma more than she did in that moment. That, and food. Good food. Food with spices and cheese and chicken…

  Now wasn’t the time to think about food.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Ever since the Harbinger had visited the Second, he made up his mind. Elves were far superior in looks to any Human. It’s why he came back, after he returned to Earth. He probably didn’t make many good decisions, but he did not regret them. The sacrifice he made to permanently open the worlds to each other wouldn’t affect him. No, what he was more interested in was the naked Elf standing before him.

  Such a perfect body she had. Tall, not an ounce of fat. She had small hips and even smaller breasts, but she was flawless anyway. The Harbinger desperately wanted her, knew right then that he made the right decision. He could never have remained on Earth, not after her, not after everything he’d done. And definitely not after Ophelia told him of her plan.

  The Harbinger would not think of those he left behind as he went to his Elven lover, pushed her on the bed and ran his hands over every inch of her body. He would not think of the price, of the glint in the Lionheart’s eyes as the Harbinger agreed to the terms.

  Ophelia let out a moan as he brought his face between her legs.

  This was how it should be.

  This was how it should always be.

  Faith woke with a start. She knew she woke from a dream, but for the life of her, she couldn’t remember what the dream entailed. A memory that wasn’t hers, a piece of someone else that shouldn’t be inside her.

  It was nights like these, nights where she couldn’t sleep or woke from a dream and a memory from a previous Harbinger, that were the worst. Faith was tired of being the Harbinger. She was tired of other people wanting her dead and trying to kill her, getting blamed for poisoning a Court member. She was tired of the strange and confusing messages Frey told her earlier. She didn’t have the Ageless Blade. How many times did she have to say it?

  She was also very tired of walking.

  Yes, if she never walked again, it’d be too soon.

  Why was she the Harbinger? Was it a random happenstance? Was it a twist of fate that no one saw coming? The Harbinger was always male. Why was she suddenly the first girl who was thrust the job? She didn’t want it, and she sure as hell didn’t like it.

  A feeling of warmth spread in her stomach, and she felt…Faith knew exactly how she felt, and for the first time, she wasn’t going to stop and think about it. She wasn’t going to go on and on in her head about how weird it was, how strange it was.

  She was just going to do it.

  Besides, she was going to die soon enough. Faith wasn’t about to die a virgin.

  She scooted back, inch by inch until she felt Light’s heat. It was a pitch-black night, and around them, Faith heard the telltale signs that everyone else was asleep. It was just as well. She was reasonab
ly sure she’d be able to be quiet. And if not, oh well.

  Faith turned to face him, feeling his hot, steady breath on her skin. Light stirred just a bit, moving his hand to her back, pulling her against him tighter. He was fast asleep too, but he wouldn’t be for long.

  She brought her hands to his chest, touching the leather that he always wore. Hearing him stir, she lifted a hand to his face. Hard to do in the absolute darkness, but she didn’t want to go and kiss his nose.

  “What—” Light didn’t even have time to get the word out. Faith shushed him by bringing her lips to his, smothering the word in his mouth. It took him a few seconds to overcome his momentary confusion, but soon he was kissing her back, hand moving along her side, resting on her hip.

  Lips locked, Faith took her fingers to her pants, working to undo the button and zipper. She parted her lips only slightly to whisper as softly as she could, “I want you.” Those three words were all she needed to say, clearly, for soon she was rolled to her back and Light was on top of her.

  It had to be Light. Her first time, of course it had to be Light. The Elf who was in this mess since the beginning, the one who first greeted her and her class at the gateway, the one who berated her as she goofed off. It was Light whom she cared for the most, Light who she spent the most time with. Light—the one who had woken up and freaked out because he gripped her boob. They’d come so very far from that morning, hadn’t they?

  Light’s hands roamed over her, under her clothing, touching sensitive parts, making her want to whimper, but she held back. The others weren’t even ten feet away. No noises beyond the soft smacking of their lips and the eventual joining of other parts. Faith’s entire body felt hot. She wanted to take off all her clothes, but at the same time, she just wanted to, to use Finn’s favorite word, fuck.

  Oh, yes—that’s exactly what she wanted to do.

  Light kissed her neck as he worked to pull down the clothing that was most hindering. Luckily for him, she already had the button undone. The heat that burned inside her would only be extinguished after she had her fill of him.