Winter Princess: A reverse harem novel (Daughter of Winter Book 1)

by Skye MacKinnon

  I quickly put on the shirt (Arc forgot to bring me a dry bra), take off my wet shoes and step out of the jeans that are pooled around my feet. I look at the dry clothes next to me. Oh no.

  “No panties?”

  “Ehm, didn’t think you’d need them.” Arc laughs and I’m sure it was deliberate. Bastard.

  I groan in frustration.

  “You should have brought her panties, mate,” Frost says, surprising me.

  “Why, are ye having a problem with the thought of her being naked underneath her trousers?” Arc teases.

  “You’re wearing a kilt. Do you know how uncomfortable this is?” Frost points at the bulge between his legs.

  I’m going to try and forget that I heard this conversation.

  Chapter Seven

  It’s dark by the time we roll off the ferry and head into Stornoway. Even though it’s called the capital of the Western Isles, it’s not very big, maybe a few thousand residents. We drive along the streets until we find a hotel that looks bright and inviting. The guys have decided that we need some rest, so we’re staying the night rather than driving straight on to Calanais.

  Storm heads inside to find out if they have a room available while the rest of us stay in the car.

  “Is Storm your leader?” I ask, remembering how it’s always the brooding, black-clad twin who organises everything.

  “Aye, he’s the boss,” Arc grins. “When we let him.”

  “So it’s not an official thing?”

  “Nah, he’s the oldest so he thinks he’s in charge. And most of the time that’s ok with the rest of us.”

  “He’s older by a few minutes,” Frost grumbles. “Just because our God couldn’t create two Guardians at the same time.”

  “Why did he make you twins?” I ask. I still can’t get my head around this whole concept of being created, not born.

  “Guess it looks nicer if you’re standing in between two strong, handsome Guardians that look the same,” he snickers. “He was still practicing with Storm. By the time he made me, he’d reached perfection.”

  I snicker. “You sure about that?”

  “Oi”! He punches me playfully. “I am the prettiest Guardian in the Realms.”

  “Ignore him,” Crispin chimes in. “I won that title three times in a row.”

  “Because your God organised it!”

  Storm’s return interrupts their squabble (and stops me from trying to decide who of the four guys is the hottest one). He leads us inside and up some dark, velvet-lined stairs. “They didn’t have a family room so we’ve got two doubles.”

  I sigh. “They didn’t have twin rooms?”

  “After what happened on the ferry, I didn’t think you’d want a twin room,” Storm says, his voice dark with a husky undertone.

  “What happened on the ferry?! That was you molesting me!”

  “We undressed you,” he says flatly. “And you kissed me.”

  “What the fuck? It was you who kissed me!”

  “And you kissed me back.”

  I’m speechless. And beaten. Yes, I kissed him back. Yes, I enjoyed it. Yes, I would probably do it all again. And more. I get flushed just thinking of it. A tiny voice inside me tells me that this isn’t me, that this isn’t natural, but I push it aside.

  I can’t give in though. “No, I didn’t.”

  “Oh yes you did.” Before I can even move, Storm grips my arms and presses me against the wall of the corridor, slamming his mouth onto mine, kissing me hard. My lips open to invite him in. Traitors.

  “Ehm, could we do this inside our rooms? I don’t want to attract attention,” Frost’s voice comes from far away. I don’t care; I’m too busy kissing. I evade Storm’s nudging tongue and slowly run my own along his teeth. So perfect.

  He leans back, ending the kiss. My mouth follows him, taking the rest of my body with it. He steps back, his eyes filled with heat and regret. “Not here, Princess. Not like this.” His voice is almost soft.

  He turns and walks away, the other guys following him, leaving me standing there, bewildered. What the hell just happened? Did I let him kiss me? Again?

  “Come on, Wyn,” Crispin shouts from the other end of the corridor. I shake off my confusion (at least I try to) and hurry after them.

  We’ve got two rooms opposite from each other. They’re identical; small, a little dark, but generally friendly looking. I enter the room to my right, where the guys are waiting for me. Arc is sprawled out on the king-size bed and if I bent down a little, I could probably look up his kilt... but no, that would be naughty.

  Storm and Frost are standing by the window, talking quietly, while Crispin looks a little forlorn on his own in the middle of the room. He’s the only one acknowledging me entering the room, though.

  “How are you feeling?” he asks, putting an arm around my shoulders. The familiarity surprises and excites me at the same time. Crispin is still a bit of an enigma to me. He’s the quietest one, always gentle, always standing slightly apart from the others. Frost and Storm match because of their looks (and their demeanour, I’m slowly starting to see, even though at first I thought them to be very different from each other), and Arc is similar enough to join their team. But Crispin… he’s different. Not in a bad way, though. I just feel like there’s a lot more to him than I can see on the surface.

  “Tired,” I reply, not wanting to tell him that I’m feeling absolutely shattered. I don’t want him to think that he needs to heal me.

  “Guys, let’s talk. Wyn is exhausted, so let’s get this over with as soon as possible.”

  “She’s not the only one,” Frost mumbles. Dark shadows are surrounding his eyes and his shoulders are slumped. Rescuing me from the grip of the sea must have taken more energy from him than I had realised. How did I not notice this before? Oh yes, he was touching my boobs. That’s why.

  “Arc, make some space,” Storm commands, and the kilted Scot sits up on the bed. We join him on the springy mattress. That reminds me, we haven’t discussed sleeping arrangements yet. I wish these men were smaller, so they could all fit on one bed. In the other room. Leaving this room for me.

  “Ouch, you’re sitting on my leg,” Frost complains and pushes his brother. Which ends up in everyone shuffling around, making the springs underneath the mattress groan in anger. Maybe that’s just my interpretation - and my projection, because a second later, Arc grabs me and puts me on his lap.

  “See, now we have more space,” he grins. I’m too tired to even protest. Besides, he’s warm and comfy. His abs are hard beneath me, and I try to ignore that as best as I can.

  Storm tssks, then clears his throat importantly. “Okay, let’s begin. Wyn, did you see who threw you off the ferry?”

  I shake my head. “No, the deck was empty. It was magic, it felt like the air grabbed me and pushed me over.”

  “Air magic... that complicates things.”

  “Why?”

  “Not many mages have that ability,” Storm explains. “It’s more common in Guardians.”

  “Oh. But we can’t exclude it being a mage, right?”

  “No, but it’s unlikely. Has anyone ever tried to harm you before? When you were still living among humans?”

  “No, and why would they? Why is someone trying to kill me now?”

  “They must have been waiting until your magic developed when you came of age,” Storm says, ignoring my questions.

  “We can’t go on like this,” Frost says tiredly. “She’s almost been killed twice in one day, not counting the flares. From now on, two of us should always be with her.”

  “Two of you? Don’t I get a say in this?”

  “No,” Storm says in his favourite grumble voice.

  “I don’t think that’s enough,” Crispin sighs. “If they break into her mind again, we may not be able to stop her from leaving. We need a failsafe.”

  “Are you thinking...?”

  Arc shakes his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. The effects are alr
eady quite strong, and that would only make it... more intense.”

  “I agree,” Storm grumbles.

  “You would, wouldn’t you. But it’s not about you, it’s about Wyn,” Frost snaps. “Just because you can’t control yourself, you’d put her in danger?”

  I’ve had enough. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  A collective silence answers me. “Ok, if you don’t want to tell me, I’m going to bed. I’m taking the other room, you can stay here.”

  I sit up and untangle my legs from Crispin (who put his own over them at some point). Before I can leave, Arc’s arms hug my belly and pull me back against him. “Let me go!”

  “No,” he whispers, and turns me until I’m looking straight into his emerald eyes. His gaze captivates mine and my breath catches in my throat. There’s a tingling in my belly that tells me to lean forward, to press my lips against his and...

  “What are you doing to me?” I whisper, in shock about my own thoughts. This is so not me.

  “That’s what we’re talking about. The pull.”

  “Is that what is making me want to...”

  “Kiss me? Fuck me? Yes.” Arc’s voice is hoarse and his pupils are dilated. I can feel him growing hard against my thighs. His lips are waiting for me, red and soft and delicious. I wonder what they feel like.

  “Snap out of it,” Storm growls and pulls me off Arc. Immediately, the spell is broken. I look at Arc in shock. Was I really about to kiss him? Gods, this is so wrong. I kissed Storm earlier tonight, now almost Arc, and when I look at the other two Guardians, I can easily imagine pressing my lips against theirs.

  Crispin’s calm voice pulls me out of my thoughts. “When Guardians absorb a God’s magic, they form a bond with them. That’s why it’s forbidden. But you’re different, you’re a demi-goddess, so we thought it might be different. We didn’t have a choice, when your magic flared, it was the only thing that stopped you from killing yourself.”

  “So when you stopped the earthquake... you pulled magic from me?”

  “Yes, we absorbed as much as we could. Your mother was wise to send all four of us; one or two Guardians wouldn’t have been enough. As long as you don’t have full control over your magic, we need to be there in case it overwhelms you.”

  “Does this mean that my mother knew about the... side effects?”

  “Nobody knew exactly what would happen, if there would be a bond at all, if the pull would be strong. You’re the first demi-goddess in a long time. But yes, Beira knew it was a possibility.”

  I’m in shock. My mother was aware that I might fall for - no, that my body might fall for the Guardians she sent, and she did it anyway. What was she thinking? How could she do this to me? She was basically taking away my free will.

  “But what if I never actually wanted to... kiss you? What if the bond forces me to do other things... isn’t that like rape?”

  Crispin shakes his head violently, but a slight grin is spreading on his face. “Oh, did I forget to mention? It isn’t always a sexual pull the bond forces. That only happens when there is already an attraction that the bond can latch onto.”

  I switch on the tap and splash some cold water on my face. It doesn’t make my head any clearer though. My mind is buzzing, my body is still in the grip of my manipulated hormones, and - well, let’s just say that I’m a mess. On the other side of the bathroom door, four Guardians are impatiently waiting for me. We still haven’t discussed what Crispin proposed. Not that I actually know what it is, just that it might help me from getting killed. Which makes it a good thing.

  I sigh and dry my hands, noticing that they are shaking slightly. I could do with one of my mum’s herbal tea infusions that she always made me before exams. Mum… I wonder what she’s doing now. Are my parents alright? Are they still in the hotel the guys left them at? I wish I could call them to find out, but I can already imagine Storm’s reply – something about safety, and phones being tracked.

  Crispin told me that they’d wake up after about a day from the deep sleep he put them in. Their human minds needed time to process it all. Had he asked me, I could have told him that their human minds have been processing magic for the past twenty-two years. Right now, I wish they were here, putting me to bed, telling me that everything was going to be alright. Instead, I have four Guardians who may look pretty good, but who I don’t know at all.

  When I walk back in to the room, the guys are no longer on the bed. Crispin is rummaging through their bags, while the other three are pushing the furniture around to make more space in the middle of the room.

  Arc looks up when he hears the bathroom door close behind me. “We’ll need to do some preparations for the ritual—”

  “What ritual?” I almost shout. I’m exhausted and I want them to finally tell me what this is all about. All this secretive stuff is driving me crazy.

  “There’s a way how we can make sure that ye are okay, no matter if we’re with ye or not. It’s a bit like a GPS locator, except that in emergencies we can also talk to ye. That way we can get to ye much faster than with any other method.”

  “So you’re saying you’ll be able to talk in my mind?”

  “Only when ye let us. It’s a one-way connection that only you can open. So, if something bad was to happen, ye can open yer mind and talk to us, but we won’t be able to hear you if ye don’t.”

  “That doesn’t sound so bad... so what’s the downside?”

  He looks a bit uncomfortable. “We dinnae ken if the bond will get stronger. Ye might be even more affected.”

  “No way. Absolutely. No. Way.”

  “It’s the only way, lass. I dinnae want ye to die.”

  That shuts me up. Arc doing puppy eyes is just evil. Here’s this big, tough, kilt-wearing guy, looking at me like I’m... well, special to him?

  “But... I’m reacting the same to all of you. How can I feel like this all the time, around four guys? What if I... kiss one of you, and later another? That’s not fair on any of us.”

  “Nah, don’t think like that. Storm and Frost have shared all their life. Not sure aboot Crisp, but I enjoyed watching ye with Storm. And having ye on my lap. And on the ferry. We should do that again.”

  I blush. No, we definitely should not. Or maybe we should. I don’t know what to think anymore. How much of it is the bond and how much is me? Can I still trust my thoughts? What if it’s even worse after the ritual? Will I become a lovesick demi-goddess lusting after her Guardians?

  Even now, standing so close to Arc, I can feel the pull towards him. My body is wanting to touch him.

  “It’s getting worse. How is it getting worse if you haven’t pulled any energy from me since the earthquake?”

  Arc is silent for a moment, then murmurs, “We think it’s because we’re around each other all the time. Your magic is reacting to the magic residue in our bodies.”

  Eww, that sounds gross for some reason. But at least there’s a simple solution.

  “So if I stay away from you it gets better? Then I’ll just take a bus to Calanais, walk through the stones and be done with it. No need for you all to be around me.”

  He looks at me with a pained expression. “I hadn’t realised ye disliked us so much.”

  “I don’t dislike you, on the contrary! But I feel like I’m being manipulated from all sides, and I hate feeling so powerless. I need to be able to make my own decisions, not let some strange bond make them for me.” A sob escapes my throat. Don’t cry. Please don’t cry in front of the guys. I’m looking weak enough as it is, having to be rescued all the time.

  Arc opens his arms and invites me in. I hug him back. Ok, let’s be weak for a second. Arc’s hugs are the best.

  For once, the bond lets us enjoy this simple, non-sexual hug. Thank you, magic.

  “We’re ready,” Frost announces. They’ve removed the rugs that were covering the floor, exposing the worn wooden boards underneath. Storm is putting the finishing touches to an intricate design drawn on t
he floor with a liquid that looks like black ink. Except that it’s a bit like gel, less fluid than ink.

  Storm wipes his black-stained hands on his jeans. Pray for whoever is going to do his laundry.

  I take a closer look at the drawing. It’s like a large Celtic knot, never-ending and endlessly wound, but there’s another knot on top, and another, until they form a rough circle. Just like you can draw a star by putting two triangles on top of each other, he’s made a circle from Celtic knots (my mum would disagree, of course, being an artist and all).

  “Don’t touch it,” Storm warns as I step closer.

  “What is it? Is it like a pentagram?”

  “Pentagrams aren’t magical, only charlatans use it.” Frost comes over to inspect his brother’s handiwork. I can feel his breath on my neck as he stands behind me. “This one here is the real deal. Well done, brother dear.”

  “Yes, it’s pretty, but what does it actually do?” I ask impatiently. Hey, it’s my mind they’re going to mess with.

  In response, Storm lifts me up and unceremoniously puts me down in the middle of the knot-circle-thingy.

  “So now I’m allowed to touch it?” I ask incredulously. That barbarian, picking me up like his play toy. I’ve got free will. Most of the time. Unless my hormones start doing their thing.

  “Don’t move. If you distort the pattern all sorts could happen.”

  “But what is going to happen?” Gods, do I sound whiney. But I’ve got a point.

  Crispin gives me a reassuring smile. “Nothing bad. We’re going to focus our energies into the knot, and they will flow through it, mixing and binding together with your own. It won’t hurt, don’t worry. It might feel a little strange though, but as I said, it’s nothing bad.”

  “Okay. What do I need to do?”

  “You stand there and look pretty,” Frost snickers, but shuts up when his brother shoots him an evil glance. Phew, I’m glad he’s not looking at me like that - for now, at least.

  “Close your eyes—”

  “And think of me,” I interrupt and the other guys burst out laughing. “Sorry, please continue.”