by Alex Lidell
“Bitch. Fucking slut of a bitch.” Cutting his editor off midsentence, Jaden comes at me with nostrils flaring, his eyes flashing with a wild rage. “This is all your doing. All your lies. How many good people are you going to destroy?”
Beside me, Cullen tenses. And then…then steps back, leaving me to face Jaden one on one. The confidence in Cullen’s eyes ground my bubbling panic.
My pulse settles, my thoughts returning to me as I see Jaden for what he is. Not some fierce warrior, but a hack unable to control his basic impulses. “Mr. Harris. I’m so glad to have run into you today.” My saccharine-sweet tone makes Jaden’s face turn a new shade of burgundy. “I’m in the middle of a freelance story myself. Are you aware that WorldROCK former champion Jazmine Keasley’s sponsors—that’s Arc’teryx, and now prAna and SCARPA—are filing charges against the Manhattan Post reporter who assaulted her before this year’s competition? She was unable to participate due to her injuries, and, well, I imagine some more subpoenas are coming to the Post’s legal department.”
“Do you know something about this, Harris?” Bainbridge asks in the gruff way that all newspaper editors seem to have in their genes.
“Just slander from a known liar, sir,” Jaden hisses, his hands curling into fists.
“Mr. Bainbridge.” A woman in high heels a few paces away raises her recorder, her press credentials swaying as she reads from her phone. “WorldROCK’s media roster lists only a single reporter from the Post: Jaden Harris. Is that, in fact, the man you sent to cover the event? And if so, how are you unaware of a physical confrontation between him and one of the competitors?”
“Mr. Bainbridge, over here, sir,” another reporter chimes in. “Have there been any previous accusations of misconduct against Mr. Harris?”
Feeling Cullen’s hand in the middle of my back, I realize he’s come up to my side again and is now guiding me out of the feeding frenzy surrounding the Post. “I didn’t know you were covering the lawsuit,” he murmurs appreciatively into my ear as we come to stand next to my mom and Greg.
“Neither did I,” I tell him. “But I never said when I started covering it. It just happened to be about five minutes ago.”
Greg chuckles, and I suddenly feel my face heating all over again. “Oh my God. I’m so, so sorry,” I say, my hands covering my mouth. “I’ve upstaged your dinner with this nonsense and—”
“On the contrary, you did me a favor. I get press coverage and I don’t have to be in the middle of the reporters myself. Plus”—Greg’s face grows serious—“I did not have the honor to serve my country the way Cullen did, but I do what I can. If I helped in some small way to open the right eyes to injustice, I’m grateful for the opportunity.”
Greg turns to Cullen. “Now, Mr. Hunt, is there anything else you have up your sleeve that I might want to know about?”
I expect Cullen to give Greg one of his rare smiles, but for the first time since I met him, Cullen looks…frightened. “Actually, sir, I have one more thing, if you don’t mind. I was going to wait, but—”
Greg cocks a brow. “Whatever it is, son, you may wish to reconsider the waiting lest you tachycardia yourself into my professional services.”
Cullen nods, then reaches again into his inside pocket, and, with his hand still inside his jacket, turns smartly toward me.
My chest tightens. Before I can speak, though, Cullen lowers to one knee, his gaze flickering to my hand before finding my eyes.
“Skylar Reynolds. Since I’ve met you, you opened my eyes to a different world. One with kindness and decency. You taught me to be a better man. Hell, just loving you makes me a better man. And I do. More than I ever thought possible. Would you be my wife?”
I want to speak, but there’s a lump lodged in my throat.
“Honey,” my mom prods. “This isn’t a one-way conversation.”
“Let the woman think, Grace,” Greg says. “There are many things to consider. Maybe he snores. Or—”
“Yes.” The word comes not from my brain, but from my soul. “Yes.”
“Thank fucking God,” Cullen murmurs. Rising to his feet, he slides a gleaming ring onto my finger, the pear-shaped solitaire sparkling from a diamond-encased band. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in my life, with the exception of the Trident now looming over me, his fresh, spicy scent filling my lungs. Everything around me goes blurry, and I realize that I’m teary-eyed as my fingers press into Cullen’s muscled shoulders, unable to pull my gaze away from his tantalizing moss-green eyes.
“A kiss for the camera?” someone calls out.
And before I can blink, Cullen’s mouth seals over mine, his strong hand gripping the back of my head in a vise that sends tendrils of heat all the way to my sex. I gasp against Cullen’s mouth, my world narrowing to the soft yet unyielding feel of him as he plunders my mouth. Fully. Unapologetically. With a primal desire that wakes each of my senses, making me drunk on him. On us.
There’s nothing like it in the world. There’s nothing like him in the world. And he’s mine. So very mine.
As I kiss Cullen back, I’m aware of someone starting to clap, then the whole world erupts in a cheer that echoes the joyful pounding of my heart. Cullen’s arms tighten around me, holding me proudly. Assuredly. I know he always will.
Now and forevermore.
Thank you for reading ENEMY ZONE. The Trident Rescue series continues with Eli’s story in ENEMY CONTACT.
Eli Mason. Powerful CEO and former SEAL. Protector. Leader. Sexy as hell.
A man who has learned the hard way to hide his wounds.
And the man I’ve been hired to destroy.
Available HERE in Kindle Unlimited.
If you are reading an ebook version of this book, please continue for a FREE preview of Alex Lidell’s best-selling reverse harem fantasy romance, POWER OF FIVE.
Preview of Power of Five
Please enjoy this FREE PREVIEW of Power of Five, Power of Five Book 1
Four elite fae warriors. One mortal female. A magical bond they can’t allow—or resist.
Orphaned and sold to a harsh master, Lera’s life is about mucking stalls, avoiding her master’s advances, and steering clear of the mystical forest separating the mortal and fae worlds. Only fools venture into the immortal realms, and only dark rumors come out... Until four powerful fae warriors appear at Lera’s barn.
River, Coal, Tye, and Shade have waited a decade for their new fifth to be chosen, the wounds from their quint brother’s loss still raw. But the magic has played a cruel trick, bonding the four immortal warriors to... a female. A mortal female.
Distractingly beautiful and dangerously frail, Lera can only be one thing—a mistake. Yet as the males bring Lera back to the fae lands to sever the bond, they discover that she holds more power over their souls than is safe for anyone... especially for Lera herself.
Power of Five is a full-length reverse-harem fantasy novel.
1. Leralynn
“Lera!” Mimi’s voice bounces through the stable, turning horses’ heads.
“Over here,” I call from the backmost stall, running my hand down a gelding’s velvety neck. The horse whickers softly, his warm sides heaving as steam rises from his coat to mix with the stable’s chill air. The earthy scent of hay and leather, tangled with the grassy waft of horse manure, wraps the stable in a familiarity that has become my refuge from Master Zake’s mix of leers and blows.
Leaning my forehead against the horse, I draw long, steadying breaths. I’m on edge, have been since last night, though I can’t put my finger on what’s making my soul churn. Maybe it’s the way Zake has been watching me lately, like I’m water in a drought—that should either be drunk up before it’s gone or else sold for a tidy sum. Or maybe it’s just the wolf from my dream that’s still frightening me. Gray with black around the muzzle, golden eyes, and a powerful maw of sharp teeth. A foolish thing to be uneasy about. The only forest near Zake’s estate is Mystwood, which separates mortal lands from the fae
. If there is a wolf in Mystwood, he wouldn’t venture out. Animals don’t like going in and out of those woods. And I don’t blame them. I feel a shiver anytime I go near the forest’s edge.
Actually, no one but Zake likes Mystwood, and he doesn’t so much like the forest as worship it. Someone long ago told him that a clan of fae warriors shall one day emerge from the forest and take a human with them to the immortal lands. Zake filled in the rest of the tale with images of heroic battles, fawning women, and sparkling immortality. Thinking this too great a temptation to resist, the man built himself an estate at Mystwood’s edge and has spent two decades waiting for fortune to show up with an invitation.
Perhaps I am too hard on the man, though—we all need something to dream about. Then again, mortals who try to cross into fae lands never return, though their bones and ravaged bodies sometimes appear at Mystwood’s edge. Not all dreams are safe.
“Oh, bloody stars.” Mimi puts her hands on her waist and regards me critically. “Get out of there before Zake gives you a new set of bruises. He pays you to mulch shit, not hug livestock.”
“Zake pays me?” I say, raising a brow. I might theoretically be earning wages, but after Zake skims off my room and board and other “upkeep,” as the indentured-servant trade calls it, I see little more than pennies.
Mimi grabs my wrist and hauls me out of the stall. She is even shorter than I am, the age my mother might be if she were still alive, and she works in the kitchens, so there is often a piece of bread or cheese in a pocket for me, together with a smell of flour trailing in her wake. Mimi is as close to family as I’ve had since Zake purchased me from one of the orphan collectors twelve years ago. I don’t remember what happened before then, but I do remember freezing one moment and being hauled atop a warm horse the next.
That was the one and only time I’ve ridden. I think Zake fears that I’ll run off in the middle of the night if I could ride, though there is no place for me to go.
“Zake will give you a great deal more than pennies if you let him.” Mimi brushes stray hay off my mane of auburn hair and arranges the locks over my shoulder. “He’s been waiting for you for years, Leralynn, and I don’t think he’ll put up with your coyness for too much longer.”
“If last week’s whipping was a sign of courtship, I think he might be barking up the wrong tree. Never mind that he is twice my age and in love with a fairy tale.”
Mimi clicks her tongue. “You might be the one in love with fairy tales, dear. Zake is only twice your age, is rough for work, not drink, and he’s never once forced himself on you. How many masters would respect a stable girl’s maidenhead, eh?”
“All the ones who think said maidenhead might fetch them a hefty sum.”
Taking a warm roll from her pocket, Mimi stuffs it into mine, the smell of yeast and fresh bread making me groan. “I, for one, would enjoy calling you ‘mistress.’ You would live in the house, have food and clothing and heat. It would be a better life for you than cleaning stalls.”
“I like cleaning stalls.” Reaching back, I close the gelding’s door, which slides smoothly on oiled wheels. Zake does take good care of his property—when he thinks it will line his pockets.
“Now, then.” Mimi claps her hands. “Pay attention, girl. The kitchens are abuzz with rumors of a wolf stalking the estate grounds. Master Zake’s on his way back here to go hunting, and I thought it might be nice if you had a horse ready for him when he comes. Tell him to stay safe, fuss a bit. It wouldn’t hurt.”
I freeze, my mouth going dry. “Wolf?” I lick my lips. “What kind of wolf, Mimi?”
“I don’t know. The meat-eating kind, I presume.” She sighs. “You are focusing on the wrong part of the news. If you aren’t going to be useful, then perhaps scram before Zake comes, eh? You don’t need to be rejecting the man outright. And you might change your mind too.”
Yes. Leave before Zake arrives heated for a hunt. That’s exactly what I need to be doing.
Except I can’t. I need to save that wolf. And I have no idea why.
“I can’t scram—the horses want their dinner,” I say mildly, as if my heart isn’t galloping. “What has the wolf done?”
“Nothing yet.” Mimi waves a hand dismissively. “With stars’ fortune, Zake’s men can put it down before it causes trouble and brings pack mates to help.”
Pack mates. Yes, the wolf likely has those who’ll mourn him and howl at the moon in loneliness, which I know too well. All because the innocent animal crossed Zake’s property line.
The sounds of men’s voices and clanging weapons ring from outside the barn door, and Mimi’s face tightens. Unlike me, Mimi does what she is told and has almost saved enough to pay off her upkeep debts. “Come, girl. Either support the man or disappear from sight, eh?”
“You go.” I push Mimi out the back stable entrance just as Master Zake pulls open the sliding front door. By the time his heavy boots echo through the stalls, I’m standing in the middle of the aisle again, my thick locks billowing in the sudden gush of wind.
The icy cold cuts my skin, making even my freckles shiver, but I tighten my hold on the hay-filled wheelbarrow and curtsy. “My lord.”
Around forty, Zake is large, healthy, and muscular, with a thick head of wiry brown hair. He’s amassed a series of scars to go along with his sharp temper, including a long slash across his face that gives him a perpetually displeased expression. Frowning at my wheelbarrow, Zake lifts a heavy saddle with one hand and carries it into a stall. “You should have finished with that half an hour ago, Leralynn,” he calls. “Once I return with this damn wolf’s pelt, you and I shall discuss the meaning of punctuality.”
Bile rises in my throat. “Don’t. Please, Master Zake.”
Zake sticks his head out of the stall, his gaze raking my body and making his scar stretch. “Don’t whip you for laziness?” he inquires with more interest than the question warrants.
I hug my arms over my chest. “Don’t hunt the wolf. It . . . it might be a female.” It isn’t. But I don’t know how I know this, or what else to say. All I know, deep inside me, is that hurting that wolf would be very, very bad. “Maybe she has cubs. Little ones who nurse from her and need her and—”
“Shade is most definitely not nursing cubs.” The unfamiliar voice, rich and musical, comes from the open stable door. Where there was only wind moments ago, now I see a tall man with deeply carved muscles, red hair, and amused emerald-green eyes. Dressed in supple brown leather armor that bares his long, corded arms, he moves with a feline grace that should be impossible to achieve. His mouth, which seems to be caught in a permanent smile, flashes white teeth with just a hint of point on the canines.
I’ve never seen something so beautiful.
He cocks his head at me and my breath catches.
Ears. Delicately pointed ears, one of which is crowned with an intricately worked silver earring. The man isn’t a man at all, but an immortal fae male from beyond the Mystwood forest.
Zake seems to realize the same thing just as I do, and he gasps, eyes wide. Stepping in front of me, my master bows low to the visitor. “Welcome, High One.” Zake’s voice shakes a bit. “I’ve been awaiting you.”
The man—the male—snorts, his eyes skipping over Zake to focus on mine. The nagging feeling inside my core pulses in recognition, but my mind remains blank. I have no idea who this male is, though my body seems to know him. I take a step back, my hand closing around a pitchfork.
The male’s eyes glitter with amusement. “A pleasure to meet you as well, Lera,” he drawls, his voice pulsing with a cockiness that I’ve a sudden desire to knock out of him. I know I should probably be terrified of the male, but instead I’m thinking that, if not for his ears and ethereal beauty, I’d imagine him just a few years older than I am, with his maturity perhaps lagging behind his body’s dominating strength. Gaze firmly on my pitchfork, the male steps neatly around Zake and bows. “I’m Tye. And if it’s an option, lass, I would prefer not to be skewered.�
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2. Leralynn
“Please forgive my servant’s impudence, my lord,” Zake says quickly, bowing as he steps between me and the fae warrior again. Zake’s voice drips with desire, like a salivating dog. “It is but a misunderstanding. It is I, not this wench, who’s waited for you here at Mystwood’s edge. I will of course fulfil the honorable request you make of my estate.”
Tye gives Zake a dismissive look and raises a bemused eyebrow at me, as if to say, Who the hell is this?
“Excuse us.” Grabbing my arm, Zake pulls me out the back door of the stable, his large fingers leaving bruises above my elbow. The cold pierces me from all sides, cutting brutally through my thin clothes, but my blood is racing too quickly to worry about the chill. Zake’s nostrils flare, a vein ticking along his temple. “What the hell is this?” he hisses into my face, his rank breath shoving itself inside me. “You think to steal my destiny from under my very nose?”
I try and fail to wrench my arm from his grasp. “I’m not stealing anything.” My breath mists, the words coming quickly as I spot his free hand unbuckling his heavy belt. “I’ve not even laid eyes on a fae male before now, Zake. I swear it on the bloody stars.”
“Is this why you tried to stop my hunt?” Zake snarls into my face. “You wanted to intercept the immortal before he reached me?” His meaty hand turns me around, pressing my head against the barn’s side as the belt uncoils behind me. “What did you offer him, wench? Your maidenhead? Tell me the truth now, girl—it will only hurt more if you lie.”
“I’m not lying,” I say, my body already bracing for the coming blows. “Zake—” I clamp my mouth shut as the belt whistles through the air. There is no stopping this now, and little reason to waste breath that I’ll need shortly.