Wicked Souls: A Limited Edition Reverse Harem Romance Collection

by Rebecca Royce

  I padded toward the door on silent feet, opening it a crack and watching the girl walk down the halls. She was heading toward the kitchen, so I followed along behind her, staying in the shadows. She was probably looking to see what she could lift from the place, to hock when she inevitably left.

  She walked to the sink, pulling a glass out of the dish rack and filling it up from the tap. Well, she wasn’t stealing the silver yet, but I wasn’t going to stop watching. I crept up behind her, watching her face.

  “I know you’re there. You may as well stop creeping in the corners like a fucking weirdo and just say whatever it is that’s bothering you.”

  She didn’t even turn and look at me. How the fuck?

  I strode out into the open, so I didn’t look like I was skulking. Screw it, this was my fucking house. I could skulk if I wanted.

  “I don’t have anything to say to you. I have a feeling you know exactly what I’m thinking though. I’m onto you and your bullshit. Reese is a good guy-”

  “I agree,” she interrupted.

  “He doesn’t need to be taken for a ride because you somehow managed to talk him into bed and had unprotected sex to trap him. He might be blinded by your damsel act, but I’ve known too many girls like you.”

  She actually laughed in my face. “Oh, Lincoln. I’m pretty sure you’ve never met a girl like me. But we want the same thing. I know Reese is a good guy. The last thing I’d ever think of doing is hurting him.”

  I snorted. “Sure. So you’re just here, why? Because you are on the run? Because you accidentally got knocked up? This is the twenty-first century. No one gets ‘accidentally’ knocked up unless they are conniving or just plain stupid. You don’t strike me as the latter.”

  She grinned, and fuck she really was beautiful. No wonder Reese was blind.

  “Aw, you think I’m smart?” She chuckled low, and it was a damn sexy sound. My dick twitched and I mentally scowled at it. “Gotta agree with you there, Lincoln. If it makes you feel better, I was surprised as hell. Trust me when I tell you I didn’t plan this.” She waved a hand at her rounded stomach.

  I snorted. “I don’t trust a fucking thing you tell me.”

  She nodded, and her smile was sad. “I’m glad he has someone like you. Protective.”

  My heart squeezed, but I didn’t understand it. I frowned as I looked at the downcast lines of her face. She could just be a damn good actress, but that look of desolation? I knew that look intimately.

  “I’m watching. You hurt him, and I’ll hurt you.”

  Now it was her turn to snort. “We both know you aren’t the kind of man who would hurt a woman.”

  I stared at her dead in the eye. “That’s where you’re wrong. I killed a woman once, and I’d do it again to protect him.”

  With that, I turned on my heel and left. Memories swam up in my brain, but I pushed them down. The nightmares would come tonight, but luckily I’d have Vince to wrap my body around and chase them away.

  Chapter Ten

  Reese

  This board meeting was going on forever. I was tuning them out as they droned on, because my head wasn’t in the room. It was at home, wrapped in my blankets beside the soft, warm body of Celeste.

  It had been three days since she’d arrived on my doorstep, three days since she’d dropped her bombshell. I wasn’t going to lie, it had been tense at home. Lincoln glared, Vincent flirted. I fussed. Celeste seemed to watch us all with the eyes of the hunted.

  Today was my first day back and I was a little worried about leaving her home alone with Vincent and Lincoln. Not because I thought they’d hurt her; the idea was crazy. But I wanted her to stay and I was worried they’d chase her away if I wasn’t around to stand between them. Well, Lincoln anyway. Vincent was more likely to chase her into bed.

  I examined my complete lack of jealousy at the thought. That couldn’t be normal, right?

  I looked around the meeting table and my eyes stopped on Steve from PR. He was PR perfect. Blond and well groomed, he had a million dollar smile, and to make shit worse, he was a sweet person to go with it. I was pretty sure that every woman in my company, and at least half the men, had a crush on him.

  I tried to imagine Celeste and Steve together. What if she told me she wanted to be with him too? I imagined what they would look like kissing, him having his hands on her body, and jealousy flooded me. No way. No fucking way.

  Okay. So I wasn’t broken. Then why didn’t imagining Vincent doing the same thing create a similar response?

  I was trying to look at this scientifically and coming up against a brick wall. The only difference I could see was that I loved Vincent and Lincoln. Not the way they loved each other, of course, I was straight, but we had been inseparable for years. A family unit, in our own bizarre way.

  “What do you think, Sir?” Someone asked, and I turned toward the voice. Shit. I’d totally zoned out.

  “Give me a report on it, and I’ll think it over. Now is not the time or the market to make rash decisions,” I bullshitted and hoped it made sense. I checked my phone and frowned when there were no messages from anyone. None from Vincent or Lincoln, which wasn’t actually weird. None from Celeste either, even though I’d programmed my phone number into her cell. I gave the boardroom a tight smile. “Excuse me, people, but unfortunately something has come up. Tad will reschedule something for later this week and we’ll make a definitive decision on this matter.”

  Fake it until you make it. That shit got me through college, and it still works now.

  Everyone shuffled their papers and left, most with their faces in their cell phone screens. I waited until everyone left and turned to Tad, my personal assistant. He was smirking at me. “Did I answer that appropriately?”

  “You mean so they wouldn’t know you were completely daydreaming? Yep, your response was fine for that,” he teased back. Tad was in his late thirties and had a wife, three labradors, and two kids. I wasn’t sure who he loved more, because they all got equal desk space for their framed photos.

  Tad was an interesting guy. He was on the Autism spectrum, which made him super obsessive about some things, which in his case was Lego. The man loved lego as much as his wife. Hell, maybe more. But it also meant that his genius worked really well in a logical manner and he kept me organized easily. And he had an eye for detail that was unparalleled. He liked the comfort of being my personal assistant, of knowing what he had to do every day, of creating a routine for the both of us, so I never had to worry about him jockeying or playing office politics. I relied on Tad so much.

  “I appreciate you, man. You know that right?”

  Tad grinned and gathered up all the paperwork. “Yes. You tell me all the time.”

  I smiled and slapped him on the back. “Good. Just wanted you to know.”

  I walked back to my office, with Tad following along behind me, his face scrunched up as he looked at his tablet. “I can reschedule for Friday next week. Would that be okay?”

  I nodded and flung myself down on the couch in my office. I rested my head on the back of the couch and sighed.

  The other great thing about Tad? He didn’t ask me questions like, are you okay? What’s wrong? He just assumed that if I had a problem, I’d talk about it. I appreciated that about him too.

  “Tad, if I took the rest of the week off, what would be the outcomes?”

  Tad raised both eyebrows, but didn’t ask questions. His fingers flew across the tablet screen, and he frowned a little. “We can make it work. Reschedule a few appointments for next month, move around a few things. There is the meeting with that Tech company down in Silicon Valley, but they have already rescheduled on you, so we should parry and return their gambit.”

  I wasn’t sure if that was a chess or a fencing metaphor, but it worked. “Okay, reschedule everything for the rest of the week. I’m going home.”

  Tad nodded and left the room, his focus completely on his tablet. I sat down at my computer and booted it up.


  I opened up my encrypted browser and went to the message board that I’d been loitering on while I’d been trying to find Celeste. I messaged the user called Talbaloo. He’d been a source of information when I’d been struggling to understand what the hell I’d seen. He, or she, was nice, but never, ever told me how to find Celeste. Said it went against the shifter code, which I could totally respect. He’d answered my questions, and warned me enough that I kept my mouth shut. I sent him a direct message.

  BUTTERCUP: Hey Man. Are you around? I found her.

  There was no response, but I didn’t expect there to be. I was about to close my laptop when it dinged.

  TALBALOO: Holy shit, dude. That’s great. Is she okay?

  BUTTERCUP: Scared. And pregnant. I’m going to be a father to a half-shifter and I am freaking all the way out.

  TALBALOO: FUCK! Uh, congrats? She was a snow leopard did you say? At least you don’t have to worry about multiple births.

  BUTTERCUP: Not going to lie man, I am freaking all the way out. She keeps talking about leaving the baby with me and taking off so you-know-who don’t get the baby? Cub? But I don’t know what to do with a shifter baby? I can protect her, right? Hire good security or something?

  TALBALOO: I don’t know man. They aren’t normal bad guys. Maybe she’s right and you should let her go. I know some cat shifters if you need, like, pointers or something.

  BUTTERCUP: Thanks man. I might take you up on that. I better go.

  TALBALOO: No worries. I’m always here if you need me. Be safe.

  I always followed the rules. Never be online long enough to be traced. Always encrypted browser and bouncing my signal off almost 300 servers. I didn’t get where I was by not knowing my shit. Safety first.

  I shut down my computer and stuffed it in my messenger bag. I was going home to see my girl. Despite what Talbaloo and everyone else said, I wasn’t giving her up.

  Chapter Eleven

  Celeste

  The sun on my cheeks was slowly warming my chilled bones. My chilled heart.

  Sitting in Reese’s penthouse apartment, soaking in the warmth high above the city, appeased the wild beast in my chest. I could pretend I was in a tree in the wilderness and not trapped in a cage of glass and concrete. I could pretend so many things; that my life wasn’t roadkill on a freeway, just a mass of bones and gore and bad damn decisions.

  I pulled my knees up under my chin and rested them there, an action that was getting decidedly harder given my bulging midsection. My brain shied away from the very real example of my bad decisions.

  The front door opened and closed, and their scents hit me first. Humans always wanted to categorize people’s scents as single, familiar smells, but there was so much more depth to it than that. Scents were ever-changing, given what you ate, your shampoo, whether you stood beside a smoker while waiting for the bus. But under all that superficial stuff was a person's real scent, and it was impossible to describe. These guys, together, smelled like sweetness and sin. Like violence and sex.

  It made my heart race.

  Vincent and Lincoln. Their scents were so intermingled that I wondered if it was because they were bunking in the same room or because they were a couple. No one had volunteered the information and I wasn’t about to make our situation worse by asking and offending someone.

  After Lincoln’s little late night chat, we’d avoided each other the best we could, but he was always watching, just like he’d promised. And Vincent? He was sweet temptation all the fucking time. One thing they don’t tell you in pregnant shifter school? The hormones make you horny as hell. And Vicent was sex on a stick. But he still looked at me with the same calculating eyes as his friend.

  I could smell the lust on them. They might hate me, but they wanted me just as much as I wanted them. And my snow leopard wanted them really, really bad.

  They circled me like sharks smelling blood in the water. Sexy fucking sharks. I raised my lip and snarled at them, despite the fact that my libido was going wild. They might be sharks, but I was no fucking unsuspecting tuna fish. I was an apex predator in my own right and I did not just lie down.

  Lincoln stepped closer and I held my place. He was an Alpha, even if he was a human. His stare might make other humans quail, but I just lifted my chin and stared back.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful, no wonder Reese is blind to you. He sees your pretty face and your big innocent eyes and wants to be the white knight who rides in and saves you.” He leaned forward, grabbing my chin, and pulling me easily to my feet. It was like my body would go anywhere with him, despite the fact my head thought he was an asshole. He pulled me close until his lips were a mere breath from mine. “But you are no princess and I’m no fucking knight.” Then he slammed his lips into mine.

  The kiss was rough, an assault rather than a caress, and the smoky chuckle of Vincent let me know his partner in crime had stepped up to my back. I was trapped between them, caught by hunters that I didn’t think I even wanted to escape.

  Pure lust clouded my brain, chasing away anything resembling good sense. I plunged my tongue into Lincoln’s mouth, battling for supremacy with his, even as my body arched towards him for relief. My fingers scraped up the back of his skull, gripping the longer hair at the top in a hold that wasn’t even a little gentle. Lincoln growled low, and heat rushed between my thighs.

  When Vincent stepped closer, hemming me between them, I moaned. Their bodies were fire coated stone, and being pressed between them was bliss. Dirty, distracting bliss. Vincent’s fingers trailed down my spine, making me shiver. His lips slid over the skin of my neck, then his teeth, and I moaned hard into Lincoln’s mouth. It was too much like claiming, like being mated, for my leopard. My skin rippled with pleasure and I arched back into him, desperate to be mounted by this hot as hell asshole.

  “Mmm, you like that, don’t you, Star?” His teeth pressed firmly into my shoulder, and I reached behind me, groping for the hard dick I could feel pressed against my back, but he danced away. “Uh uh, not yet.”

  Lincoln, apparently disgruntled that I wasn't entirely focused on him anymore, bit my lower lip hard. I yelped, pulling away, my tongue flicking out to lick the bit of blood that seeped from my swollen flesh.

  The tattooed monster didn’t like me moving away though, reaching out to grab my chin and dragging me into another intoxicating kiss. He sucked my bruised lip into his mouth, making it better and worse all at once. He didn’t let go of my chin, even as Vincent’s hand slipped between us. His fingers slid beneath the waistband of my shorts, avoiding my stomach completely.

  When his fingers brushed over my damp panties, I could feel his smug grin against the skin of my back. “You’re dripping for us, aren’t you? Dirty, dirty little Star.” His finger slipped beneath the elastic, and as much as I wanted to punch him in the dick for his teasing words, I froze, desperate to feel his touch where I ached so bad.

  When he pulled his hand from my jean shorts altogether and ran it down my thigh instead, I decided a dick punch was back on the table. I wrenched my face away from Lincoln, stepping from between them so I could fucking breathe.

  “What are you doing?” I growled, my nostrils flaring as I desperately tried to suck in air that wasn’t tainted with their scent. Ha! Good luck with that.

  Vincent swaggered toward me, his lean body tattooed and the smirk on his face permanently etched there. “What you want us to do. I see how you look at Linc, Star. Like you want him to bend you over that uncomfortable fucking couch and make you scream his name.” He crowded me again, but I didn’t move away. I told myself I was holding my ground, but deep down I just wanted to feel his heat against mine again.

  Vincent was a languid, white-haired god, and he knew it. Every movement was both effortless but purposeful, like he was wading through molasses, and the dichotomy of him made me want to sink my teeth into his flesh and run my tongue over every single one of his tattoos. “I see the way your pupils blow out when you watch me, how the little spot
here,” he leaned forward and took my pulse point between his teeth. He bit gently, before suctioning his lips around it and sucking. “How this little spot thrums as your heart beats wildly,” he murmured in my ear, his raspy voice making goosebumps prickle my skin.

  I needed to block out his words; Vincent could talk a nun out of her panties and into becoming an atheist.

  I gritted my teeth and forced myself to stand stiffly, no matter how much it wanted to curve into the shape of his body. “So what? You’re hot. You’re still assholes.”

  Lincoln stepped forward, the grin on his face not even remotely pleasant. “You want me. Us. We are giving you what you want.”

  The scoff that came out of my mouth wasn’t even remotely ladylike. “Altruistic of you.”

  Also fucking bullshit. This smelled of entrapment. A quick look at my watch told me that it was just past four in the afternoon. Reese would be home in about fifteen minutes, by which time they’d probably intended to have me spit-roasted on the couch between them. They needn’t have bothered. After my chat with Reese the other night, where we stood was real clear.

  The grin on my face was completely Cheshire. Because the dickholes were right. I did want them. My body wanted to rub all over them, to touch, taste, feel, everything they were offering right now. And if I got the joy of their little exposure plan blowing up in their faces?

  So much better.

  Lincoln’s eyes narrowed at my returning smirk. But he didn’t move as I reached out, gripping his shirt and dragging him closer. I thought he might resist, but he let me pull him in. Let me nip the tip of his chin, the stubble scraping my kiss sensitive lips. Let me nuzzle his neck as I kissed along his jaw.

  When I tore open that fucking button-down shirt that strained across his chest, I enjoyed the slight widening of his eyes as the buttons bounced across the polished concrete floors. I scraped my nails down his chest, over the black sketched tattoo of wings, adding red stripes to the jagged strokes.