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

by Skye MacKinnon

  I give Storm a scornful look. He shrugs in response.

  “Your turn.”

  “How do I do this?”

  “Frost said you know how to heat water. It’s pretty much the same thing.”

  “Shouldn’t we look for Crispin instead?”

  “Don’t worry, we will in a moment. We’re close.”

  His reassuring voice calms my worries a little.

  Okay, let’s do this. I close my eyes - I find this makes it a lot easier to reach my magic - and feel for my heart cave. My magic is snoring softly but perks up when she notices that I need her. She yawns and I have to smile as she stretches her glittering body.

  I send out some magic tendrils and begin to weave them together. No use in doing it with single ones; I’m hoping this will be quicker. I managed to warm the water by swirling my magic through it, and I’m hoping it’ll be just the same with air.

  When my net is finished, I grip it tightly and mentally throw it around, swinging it like a lasso all around my body. Enough movement will hopefully make it warm in no time.

  Already I can feel a slight change in temperature. Then a breeze grasps my hair, quickly turning into something more forceful. Wind begins to howl around me and I open my eyes.

  Shit.

  I’m standing inside a wind hose which is circling me faster and faster. Storm has retreated to a safe distance, but instead of helping me he’s bent over laughing. The wind is too loud to hear him, but it looks like he’s roaring with laughter. Bastard. Little help, please?

  I pull back my magic, but the wind doesn’t stop. It’s now moving on its own volition. I sigh in exasperation. I’m such a terrible mage. I wanted to make the air warm and instead I created a tornado. I guess this skill could come in handy in battle though.

  I’m still in the eye of the storm, but it’s slowly moving. If I step out of the calm centre, I’ll be thrown through the air. Not sure if it’s worth the risk.

  “How do I make it stop?” I shout.

  At least Storm has the decency to stop laughing. He steps forward, waving his hands in the air. Just like that, the wind dissipates.

  That looked way too easy.

  He gives me a mock bow, then grins. “You may want to work on your technique, Princess.”

  “My technique?!” I huff. “You didn’t teach me how to actually do this!”

  “He’s not the best teacher,” a low voice chimes in from behind us. Crispin!

  He’s walking towards us, his face expressionless. Gone is the smile I fell in lo- ehm, that I’ve grown to like. His hair is messy, but not the intentional messy he usually achieves with half a bottle of hair spray. His clothes are torn in places, and small twigs and leaves are stuck to his jeans.

  In summary, he looks dreadful.

  Well, at least we found him. Or, he found us.

  “What were you doing?” I ask, giving him a quizzical look.

  He looks down on himself, only now seeming to notice the state of his clothes.

  “Oh... I went for a run,” he mumbles.

  “And nature got in the way?”

  “Yeah, something like that.” His voice is missing its usually chime. I almost want him to shut up, just so I don’t have to hear this empty, different Crispin.

  I don’t know what to say, and apparently, neither do the guys. I look out over the water; it’s smooth as a mirror this morning, with only a few leaves breaking its surface. If I had the time, if this was a holiday rather than a battle preparation camp, I’d go for a swim.

  But no, I’ve got other priorities. Like staying alive.

  I sigh. “Storm, what did I do wrong earlier?”

  “You forgot that the air doesn’t give as much resistance as water. You put in too much force, too much magic. The air needed to get rid of that excess energy, so it turned into a shape that lets it do that.”

  “Seriously? Couldn’t it have become something less threatening than a tornado?”

  He laughs, surprising me.

  “Try it again. This time, make your magic smaller, thinner. You don’t need to start a storm, you just want to shake the air a little. Imagine shaking a sieve to get all the water out. That’s the movement you mentally need to make.”

  I nod. “You better stand back, I don’t want to hurt you.”

  They do as I say. Pity, I would have liked them to protest, only to summon some wind to push them back.

  This time, I leave my eyes open. I don’t want to be surprised by a tornado again. I try to take just as much magic as I need, then spread it out in a thin mesh all around me. I give it a gentle shake, like a sieve.

  My hips become warm. It worked! Well, in a way. I should have probably wrapped the mesh all around me instead of having me in the centre of it like a tutu skirt.

  I gently move my magic while continuing to make it vibrate. Warm air surrounds me. Bingo.

  Storm and Crispin come closer, now that they see I won’t kill them with a little hurricane. I extend my magic mesh (that should become a brand name one day) until it wraps around them.

  Storm gives me another smile. Wow, he’s really cheery today.

  “Well done. See, it wasn’t hard.” His smile turns devilish. “To practice, you should see if you can change more than one air temperature at the same time. How about you make the air around Crispin a little colder?”

  A second later, Storm shouts obscenities.

  “Oops, did I confuse you two? Sorry, I didn’t mean to make the air that cold.”

  In response, Storm stretches out one arm and pulls it back immediately. Something grabs me around the waist and throws me forward, into Storm’s waiting arms.

  “That’s cheating!” I complain, fighting to get out of his grip. He just laughs, making his chest vibrate against my own.

  “It’s all part of our lesson. Now try and escape, using just your wind magic.”

  “And you won’t defend yourself with your own?”

  “No, I won’t.”

  It’s hard to concentrate when you have a muscly Guardian press against you. And a bond inside your heart whispering how lovely it would be too raise my head, pull his lips towards me, use my other hand to... Gods, one day this bond is going to get me killed. I need to practise.

  How do I get out of his grip with wind without injuring myself? He’s holding me tight; even if I used the same trick as he did on me and pulled him back with an air-lasso, he wouldn’t let go of me. Somehow, I need to make his hands move away from my upper arms.

  I weave some little magic tendrils and knot them around his fingers. Now, how do I add some wind? I try the straw technique, but apparently, you can’t do that with air like you can with water. Next, I wish the air to do something. Well, guess it was worth a try.

  If all that isn’t working, maybe the painful method will... I wrap an air lasso around his waist and one around mine and pull them in opposite directions. My legs are pulled off the floor until I’m flying almost parallel to the ground. Storm is fighting against the wind, but even his feet are almost lifted up. But he’s not letting me go. I will the air to pull more - and I slip out of Storm’s arms, but he grasps my wrists, keeping a hold of me. Dammit. I’m a bit afraid of what will happen when he lets go. I’m not sure if I can stop the pull at the same time as making sure I don’t crash to the ground. But it doesn’t matter, I need to win this challenge.

  I ask my magic and with a satisfied purr she gives me access to all her reserves. I pour the magic into the wind, making it stronger, wilder. Storm is lifted into the air; we must look like skydivers just now, floating in the air with outstretched arms, holding onto each other.

  Well, him holding onto me.

  “Let go,” I hiss, but he just smiles at me.

  “I am not responsible for what happens now,” I growl, and begin to spin us in a circle. Maybe if he gets sick he’ll let go.

  But then I have a much better idea. He’s going to hate it.

  I stop us spinning, and focus on his trousers. To b
e precise, his boxers. It’s not my fault he’s not wearing anything else. With a grin, I grip them tightly with some bands of air, and pull them down. He shouts and let’s go of my hands, covering his modesty. We’re pulled away from each other by the air lassos I have still wrapped around our waists, but I manage to let them guide us to the ground. We actually manage to land without too many bruises.

  Crispin begins to laugh as he sees Storm tumble to the ground with his boxers hanging around his ankles.

  The sound of his laughter is an even better feeling than the knowledge that I just managed to best Storm.

  Together, we head back to the house. After grumbling at me for what felt like hours, Storm had shown me a few more handy wind tricks. But I know it won’t be enough for battling a horde of demons.

  Outside the cottage, Chesca and Aodh are sitting on a bench together. The Guardian has an arm wrapped around the demon’s shoulders, and she’s positively purring as she’s snuggled against him. Here’s a sight I never expected to see in my life.

  Aodh looks up when we approach and untangles himself from his fiancée.

  “Storm. Crispin. Princess. We’ve decided to join you today.”

  I gape at him, waiting for Storm to protest, but my Guardian simply walks towards them and clasps arms with Aodh.

  “I am grateful, brother.”

  “We wouldn’t be able to sit here, knowing that you were fighting a horde of demons.” He gives Chesca a pointed look and she hurries to nod and make some agreeing noises.

  I guess it wasn’t her idea.

  “When do we leave?”

  “Let’s be ready by eleven, that gives us time to have breakfast and prepare.”

  I look at my watch. Two more hours until we might all die. And Storm is talking about breakfast.

  Men.

  Chapter Fourteen

  It feels surreal, stepping out of the cottage, ready for battle. Five Guardians, one demon and one demi-goddess. The guys have donned armour that Aodh had stashed somewhere, and all of them have some kind of sword (I don’t know anything about weapons, so all I can say is that Storm has a long big one, Frost two short ones, Crispin’s looks more like a large dagger, and Arc has the biggest of them all). They’ve given me a dagger which I’ve got in a sheath strapped around my waist. Not that I’d know what to do with it. All I’ve cut in the past have been vegetables.

  Chesca is wearing a crop top and cargo trousers. And me, I’m in my normal clothes, with the addition of a stab vest. Now I just have to tell the demons that they can only attack me on my torso.

  Standing in a line outside, I feel like we’re superheroes. The Seven Avengers. Something like that. We split up into two cars; our own and Chesca’s Ferrari. It’s pink, by the way.

  I’m feeling queasy and hope I won’t have to ask the guys to stop en route so I can throw up. I still have no idea about what I’m going to do. The Guardians have come up with a plan, and I know my role, but that’s not the same as actually being prepared to use my magic to kill.

  “It’ll be alright, lass,” Arc whispers and puts an arm around my shoulders. I lean against him, savouring his touch. I will never forgive myself if something happens to my men.

  Down to earth, funny Arc. Cheeky, helpful Frost. Brooding, strong Storm. And gentle, damaged Crispin.

  My Guardians.

  When I focus on my magic, I can feel my bond to them. It will help me later on if I need to know where they are. That will be one of my roles: telling them if one of the others is in trouble. They will always know where I am. Finally, this bond will come in handy.

  I snuggle against Arc. From my other side, Crispin grabs my hand and presses it reassuringly. I smile at him and he gives me tense smile back. He’s not returned to his normal self yet, but at least he’s talking again. When all this is over, I need to have a long chat with him.

  The drive is over far too soon. We’re back at the crest of the small hill from which we can see the Standing Stones. The demon army has grown since yesterday. It’s hard to tell, but I’d say there are at least 150 demons in all shapes and sizes lazing around the Stones.

  Our chance of success has just shrunk even further.

  We get out of the car and wait for Aodh and Chesca to join us. They’re walking arm in arm, and my heart warms at seeing their love for each other. It’s strange to see a demon behave this way, while a horde of her brothers and sisters are waiting to kill us.

  “You all know what to do?” Storm asks, his voice all business.

  Everybody nods. There’s no point in talking anymore about this. We’ve discussed our plan often enough. Now we just need to put it into practice.

  “Wyn, test your bond one last time.”

  I sigh, but focus on the invisible tether that binds me to my Guardians. This morning, Aodh showed me how I can tug on it to get their attention. I could talk to them, but that would mean opening my mental barriers, which would be too dangerous. Instead, we’re sticking to these simple tugs. If one of my Guardians feel it, they need to return to me because either myself or one of the others are in trouble. Easy.

  I give them each a gentle pull, and one after the other they shudder. Apparently, it’s a rather strange feeling.

  “Good. Aodh, Chesca, are you sure you want to do this? You can still return. No hard feelings.”

  “Don’t offend us, brother,” Aodh says quietly.

  “Yes, let’s kill those monsters,” Chesca adds cheerily.

  I don’t tell her that theoretically, she’s the same species as them.

  “Would you give us a moment?” Storm asks the couple, and they retreat back to their car. Chesca wraps her golden wings around her fiancée and shields them from view. Handy trick for making out in public.

  I’m left with my Guardians. I look at them all, unsure of what to say. Who knows if we’ll all be alive by the end of this. In silence, we stand in a circle, listening to the seagulls riding on the wind above us.

  Finally, Frost steps forward, taking me in his arms.

  “Group hug!”

  With a grumbling laugh, Arc joins him, hugging me from behind. Without hesitation, Storm and Crispin follow, until I’m squeezed in the middle of my four Guardians. For a moment, I feel safe.

  Then they step back and take their warmth with them.

  It’s time to fight.

  The plan is to split up: Frost will circle the demons to reach the sea, Storm will accompany him about half way there and then find a good spot to stay, Arc and Chesca will circle them from the other side, and Aodh approaches them from the front. Crispin and I stay close to the burning visitor centre, where we can see the battlefield but are not directly part of it.

  Crispin needs to be protected so he can heal the others when necessary, while I will join the fighting later. With my magic being so unpredictable, I’d probably just destroy the well thought out tactic Storm and Crispin have devised.

  Still, I feel left out. I don’t want to kill, but I also don’t want to stay behind when everybody else is fighting. I’m supposed to be the most powerful one, for fuck’s sake.

  But my Guardians have made a compelling argument. I’m the only one who can connect to them all. If one of them gets injured, I’ll try and get Crispin to them without him getting injured. Crispin may have killed in the past, but he’s not like the other three. He’s more of an assassin than a warrior.

  So, while the other three are fighting with swords, our weapons of choice are binoculars.

  There are no goodbyes. The others just leave, some of them nodding, some of them smiling. Storm only gives me one final look, then turns away and doesn’t look back.

  “It’ll be alright, Princess,” Crispin murmurs. “This isn’t our first battle.”

  “Have you ever been this outnumbered, though?”

  “No,” he admits. “But with Chesca and Aodh on our side, and you, of course, we have a much better chance. We’ll get you to that Gate, Wyn. Soon, you’ll finally step foot into the Realms. Tonight, w
e might already be feasting in your mother’s halls.”

  “She actually has ‘halls’? Plural?”

  He smirks. “Yeah, the palace is rather large. There’s the Great Hall, and then there are smaller ones for different functions. Her throne room is pretty impressive. There are some simpler rooms as well, of course, but your mother has had a long time to build and decorate the palace. It’s a piece of art.”

  “I can’t wait to see it.”

  I guess I can’t wait to see my mother, either. It’s been years. She won’t have changed, she’s looked the same for thousands of years, apparently. But I have, both physically and mentally. I’m going to have to ask her some uncomfortable questions. I need to know, finally, why she’s been absent my entire life. Why she never prepared me for moments like these - battles, abductions, meeting a psychotic demon.

  First things first, though. We’ve got a battle to win.

  Something tugs on my magic. Arc. That means he’s in position. Two more to go. Frost has the longest way, but the closer he is to the sea, the stronger his magic.

  Another tug. Storm.

  Aodh won’t be able to tell me when he’s in his agreed place, but he’s the closest one and we should be able to see him. Although he’s warned us that he’s an expert in camouflage. As a fire mage, he’s got access to smoke that can hide him - add a smoking visitor centre and it’s the perfect camouflage.

  Finally, the third tug. Frost has reached the beach.

  One Guardian at each point of the cross the Standing Stones form. We’re ready.

  “They’re in position,” I tell Crispin. “Are you ready?”

  “Not much I can do to prepare. All I do is wait for someone to get injured. I can imagine nicer pastimes.”

  Yeah, I didn’t think about that.

  I look into myself, finding my heart cave. My magic is alert, looking ready for battle. Good girl. I tug at the bonds connecting me to my Guardians. Crispin wheezes next to me.

  “Sorry, it’s easier when I pull at them all at once,” I apologise.