"We're almost there, Wyn," Crispin pulls me out of my depressing musings. "I can't wait to show you the Realms. Maybe we can visit Freya together, you'll love her."
"Is she your... creator?" I ask, not quite sure whether that's a polite question to pose to a Guardian. "No, I was made by her brother, Frey, as a present for her. Unfortunately, he forgot that she prefers dark haired guys. So while she appreciated my healing skills, she wasn't interested in my other... qualities." He gives me a suggestive wink. Yeah, right. Although I guess if he was made for that purpose... My hormones are getting giddy at the thought of... No. Stop it. Enough.
"But you still visit her?"
"Oh yes, she likes to play chess, and I'm one of the few she has trouble beating." He says it without arrogance; it's a fact. I like intelligence in men. My magic purrs inside as I take in his bright blue gaze that is fixed on my face. When I look into his eyes, they grow even softer behind the blond strands of hair almost touching his lashes. Freya really missed out on something here.
Arc clears his throat behind me and I notice I am leaning towards Crispin, so close that I can feel his breath on my cheek. Oops, that wasn't intended. Stupid bond. It's turning me into a lovesick demi-goddess with no self-control and over-active hormones. Get a grip, Wyn. You're a strong, emancipated woman who is aching for her Guardi- No! Not at all.
"Please, distract me," I beg Arc as I'm trying to get my thoughts under control.
He frowns. "Is everything okay? Are you scared of the gate?"
Thanks for giving me a way out of this embarrassment. I nod. It's as good an excuse as any.
"There's nah need ta be afraid, lass. We'll be with ye all the way." He smiles at me and my insides melt. Okay, this isn't working. I can feel heat pool between my legs. Something is happening, something to do with that bond. Such a bad idea, I shouldn't have listened to the guys.
My nipples harden and strain against the fabric of my shirt. I clench my thighs together, ignoring the pulsing between them. I close my eyes and lean back against the headrest, trying to concentrate on... well, anything but my erogenous zones.
I sigh in frustration, but it comes out as a moan. Oh no. Kill me now.
"Princess, is everything alright?" Storm asks, his voice a low grumble.
"Something is happening," I whisper. "I feel strange."
"Stop the car," Crispin commands and I can feel the car come to a halt. I keep my eyes closed; looking at the guys would only increase my embarrassment. The throbbing between my thighs is getting worse and my boobs are starting to hurt.
"Are you in pain?" Crispin asks, his voice both methodical and concerned. He's having trouble staying in his healer role. I'd feel touched if I didn't already feel... well touched, physically.
"Nooooaah," my no turns into a moan. I huff in frustration. How am I going to explain without losing the final pieces of my dignity?
"I think I can feel the ritual effects," I blurt out, squeezing my eyes shut, wishing that nobody could see me. Unfortunately, I'm old enough to know that just because I can't see them, doesn't mean that they can't see me.
"Oh, that shouldn't be happening yet," Crispin murmurs.
"Well it's happening now," I screech with the full force of my upset hormones. "Do something!"
"It shouldn't be happening like this. It should start slow, over time, and then after the climax it-"
"Did you just say climax???" I scream at him, I can't help it.
"Easy, lass," Arc's deep voice booms from my right. He puts a hand on my shoulder, which immediately bursts into flames. Not real ones, but it feels like my skin is on fire. Every nerve ending is firing, sending little lightning bolts down to my core.
"Please, don't touch me," I whimper and his hand immediately disappears.
"Crisp, what do we do?" Arc bellows at his fellow Guardian.
"I don't know, none of the books speak of it happening like this..."
"Then think of something," Storm shouts, making me jump a little. The movement only makes me notice my body even more. My clothes are too tight, too restrictive. I pull at them, trying to get the shirt off my aching boobs.
"What are you - no, stop that, Wyn, you don't want to do that," Crispin yells, but I don't care.
I squirm in my seat, tugging at my clothes, trying to get rid of the heat that is enveloping my skin. I need release, now.
I hear the guys whispering around me, but I don't care, I'm too busy keeping my hands from running over my body, touching myself in all the places that matter. My self-control is standing at the edge of an abyss, ready to throw herself off to make way for her evil twin sister, carnality. Oh how easy it would be to give in. If the guys weren't here, I wouldn't care. But with them around... no. Need to stay strong.
A cool wind is blowing around me, purging some of the heat that was besieging my body. It feels good on my skin and I lean into the breeze, sighing in contentment.
"It's working!" Crispin shouts close to my ear.
I still don't trust myself to detangle my hands. They might move in the wrong direction... downwards. But the cool air is helping. A little. Enough for my mind to take back a small sliver of control. Enough not to go to pieces in front of the guys.
"Wyn, you need to tell us what's going on, we can't help you otherwise," Crispin says soothingly. I want to lean into his voice, then drag his body to me and - NO. Wrong thoughts.
I press my lips together, unwilling to even try to speak. I might moan again like a cat in heat.
"Okay, let's try a different thing. Nod or shake your head. Are you in pain?"
I shake my head. A collective relieved sigh fills the air. Oh my, I hadn't realised how worried they must have been.
"Maybe she's having a panic attack," Storm mutters, but Crispin shushes him sharply.
"Wyn, is your magic giving you trouble?"
I nod. I would have probably whimpered if I could. Pathetic. And true.
"Is it the bond?"
I hesitate, then nod again.
"Damn it, I knew we shouldn't have done that," Storm shouts and I imagine him running his hands through his dark hair like he usually does when he's angry.
"Nobody knew that it would have such a strong effect on her," Frost argues. "Otherwise we would never have done it." His voice comes closer. "You know that, Wyn, don't you? Had we known this, we would have never made you do the ritual."
I nod, hearing the truth in his words. But it doesn't help me right now. My body is still out of control, throbbing and aching and lusting for a man's touch. Or several. My magic lifts her head. Yup, that's exactly what she wants. Maybe that's the solution...
"Touch me," I whisper with clenched teeth. "Please, touch me."
Silence. Then, Crispin again. "Are you sure?"
No, I'm not. Of course not. But I nod. It can't get any worse, can it.
"We'll need to get you out of the car first," Crispin mutters soothingly. He slides one arm under my knees and the other around my back. Sparks explode where he touches me and I moan in frustration. "Not much longer," he whispers in my ear as he lifts me out of the car and sits down, with me in his lap. He lifts his voice. "Guys, come here, she needs all of us."
"Are ye serious?" Arc asks, but steps closer when Crispin snaps at him.
I'm so hot, even the cold air that is still blowing around me can no longer cool me down. You could probably fry eggs on my skin right now. Someone touches my shoulder and suddenly a burst of ice runs through me, crashing against the heat searing through my veins. Frost. Another hand, this time on my thigh, and fire and ice are pressed together in a spindling vortex. Storm. I'm feeling close to exploding with all the energy pent up in me. But something is still missing.
"Please," I whisper hoarsely, desperate for that hole in me to be filled. "Please."
Lips press against mine, bringing with them a gentle calmness that envelopes the fire, the ice, the wind, combining them, pressing them together until with a flash they turn into a ball of light, as bright as th
e sun and just as beautiful.
Then the ball explodes. I scream as particles of blinding light fly through my body, wild and ferocious, until they reach my heart cave where my magic is waiting for them.
She pounces and catches the light, swallowing it piece by piece until she is glowing with an ethereal shine. She licks her paws and yawns, stretching as if nothing had happened. Around her, the rainbow clouds (I still want to call them unicorn farts, but that would be immature) illuminate the walls of the cavern, making it homely and safe. I wish I could stay here, curl up like my magic, but I can hear the guys calling me. With a sigh, I leave the cave and dive up into consciousness.
"Wyn, talk to me," Crispin says frantically, shaking my shoulders.
"Stop it," I murmur, finally opening my eyes. "I'm back now."
I'm surrounded by my four guys, all still touching me (Arc's hand is now on my shoulder), all looking slightly lost. Welcome to the club.
"What the hell just happened?" Storm booms from my side. I just shake my head. I'm tired.
"Later?" I ask, and while they all look like they'd rather ask questions, they nod.
"Let's just get to that damn gate."
We're driving in silence. I'm very aware of feeling Arc and Crispin pressing against me from both sides, but it's no longer uncomfortable. No, I feel connected to them in some way, and it's reassuring to feel their bodies.
After a few minutes of looking out of the window, admiring the sparse but beautiful scenery, I ask how much longer we still have to drive.
Frost checks the map on his lap. “We should be almost there…"
We reach the top of a gentle slope and see the Standing Stones in the distance.
"Fuck.”
We’re not the first.
And they are waiting for us.
With an army.
To be continued…
Author's Note
So, this is it, the second episode of Winter Princess. I hope you liked it as much as the first episode (or even more). I’ve fallen in love with my Guardians, and they are very adamant about getting me to write more of their story. Which means that episode three will be out soon!
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And here’s the obligatory ‘About Me’:
Skye MacKinnon tells stories about science for a living - but at night she writes fiction, mainly fantasy. When she's not writing, she's out and about with her camera, or spends time with mythical creatures and the odd vampire living in her kindle.
Usually, there's tea and cake involved.
She lives in Scotland with her two overly spoilt house rabbits and a few hundred self-obsessed characters constantly asking her to tell their stories. One day she will. Promise.
Coming soon
Pre-order the third part in the Winter Princess serial now: books2read.com/winter3
The cottage looks like it's been taken straight from a fairy tale. White-washed walls, a thatched roof, potted flowers under the windows, a wooden bench next to the green door. I decide that one day I want to have a cottage just like it. Maybe a bit bigger so my Guardians can all fit in it.
It takes me a moment until I notice what I just thought. I included the guys in my plans for the future. That can't be right. I've known them for all of three days. That's not enough time to fall in love. But here I am, dreaming of a cottage with my men. Could I get them to do the dishes? Yes, that's me, immediately thinking of the practical side of things.
Before we can even get out of the car, the green door opens and out steps a... well, I guess she's a demon. But she's unlike the demons I saw at the Calanais Stones. This demon is beautiful, in an evil, demony kind of way. Her wings are golden with black tips, and she seems to have pierced the upper edges of them and decorated them with a row of golden rings. A golden tail is wrapped around her hips, but somehow, she pulls it off and makes it look elegant. Nothing but a tiny black dress covers her golden skin; one of those dresses that would make most women look desperate. Not her though.
She's taller than your usual human woman; slim and perfectly formed. Her boobs are a little smaller than my though, I notice with relief. Not sure why I compare her to me. Maybe it's the way she hungrily eyes my Guardians. That's right, my Guardians.
She's striding towards the car, hips swaying from side to side (including her tail), wings opened to show off her impressive span. I only now notice that my mouth is wide open and I'm openly staring at her. Well, excuse me, this is my first demonic encounter.
Storm gets out first, walking away from us to meet her. The other guys look on, apparently reluctant to leave the car.
"Are all female demons like her?" I whisper.
"She's one of a kind," Crispin sighs. "We better follow Storm or he might try to kill her."
"Any particular reason for that?" I ask innocently. Not that I'm jealous or anything.
"Before she fell in love with Aodh, she was... well, she was very interested in Storm. She got a little stalky. He didn't like it."
"But she doesn't think about him like that anymore, right? She doesn't fancy him anymore?"
"She's a demon, Princess. She fancies everyone."
"Oh. Everyone?"
"Aye, she'd have you for breakfast if she could," Arc laughs.
"In a sexy or cannibalistic way?" I ask carefully.
"Both, if you let her."
"I'm not sure I want to meet her."
They just laugh and get out of the car. Thanks a lot, bringing me to stay with a questionable demon before making me fight against other demons. Demons seem to be taking over my life. And Guardians.
"So, this is the sweet princess I've heard so much about," Chesca whines in a sultry but rather annoying voice.
I life an eyebrow. "You have?"
Her innocent smile turns into a snarl. "No, sweetie, I have not. And I don't care who you are." Her features smoothen again. "Please come in, I've got some lemonade in the fridge."
She turns, almost hitting me with her tail, and saunters back into the house, beckoning us to follow her. I look at the guys who are all in various poses of suppressed laughter.
"Is she always this... changeable?"
"Oh lassie, that was nothing," Arc grins. "Wait until she starts arguing with ya. She actually switches between supporting and opposing ya."
"Sounds like fun. Shall we?"
I leave them behind, their snickers following me into the cottage. It's pretty inside; furniture in white and light browns make it look bright and comfortable. Not like I imagine the home of a demon to look like at all. I wonder what her bedroom looks like. Black? Iron chains hanging from the ceiling?
Chesca is waiting for us in the kitchen, holding two glasses of lemonade. She offers me one, I stretch out my hand to take it and - she lets it drop to the floor. Cold lemonade drenches my feet. "Ooops, I'm so sorry, dear," she smiles at me with a fake wink. "But I'm sure with your magic you'll be able to clean it up?"
Before I can even say anything, the lemonade lifts off the floor (and my shoes) in a large, yellow bubble and hovers over to the sink. I look behind only to see Frost lazily wave his hands around.
Chesca hisses. "I wanted her to do it!"
"Well, I did it instead, so deal with it," Frost replies calmly, his hands in his pockets.
The demon's expression changes from angry to seductive. "Oh, I'd like to deal with you, sweet Guardian. Will you guard me tonight?"
"Come on, Chesca, you can do better," he laughs.
"I can indeed. Why don't you let me show you? Upstairs." Her voice is a sultry sexiness that makes my knees wobble, and she didn't even talk to me. This demon is oozing sensuality.
"Cut the crap," Storm growls, "
we're not here for your little games."
"Oh, but you are," she purrs, "you just don't know it yet." In a flash, she's standing next to Storm, her tail wrapped around his waist. She presses her perfectly formed body against his chest and -
Without thinking, I act. On my command, the jug of lemonade lifts from the kitchen table and flies through the air until it’s hovering straight above Chesca's head. I smile and give my magic a nudge. The jug topples, releasing the lovely, sticky lemonade.
The demon shrieks and jumps away from Storm. Mission accomplished. He's mine, bitch.
With a hateful glance at me, she storms out of the room.
I look at my Guardians, who seem a little shocked. I grin and they start to laugh, until we're all bent over, giggling together about a lemonade-covered demon. Even Storm. I know, it's a miracle.
When we've recovered from our laughing fits (it takes Frost the longest to be able to keep a straight face), we sit down at the kitchen table.
"Demons are weakest at noon," Crispin begins, surprising me. I thought Storm would tell us what to do, as usual. "That means we have about twenty-four hours to train you, Wyn, and get ourselves ready for battle. I propose you train one-on-one with each of us. Three sessions today, one early tomorrow morning. That should give you enough time to recover and have your full energy to fight."
"Sounds good," Storm says, surprising me again. Since when does he let other people make the decisions?
“I agree,” I barge in, not wanting them to make all the decisions. “Who will I train with first? And what are you actually going to teach me? I mean, I know that Storm can play with air and Frost with water- “
Stones of Winter: (Reverse Harem Serial) (Winter Princess Book 2) Page 4