Elements of Ruin (Hijinks Harem Book 2)

by C. M. Stunich

  Damn it, Ari. Now is not the time!

  I couldn’t help myself though, my angry, dickhead, prick of a husband was sexy as fuck.

  “Stop this wedding at once!” Francesca screeched, cracking the bullwhip she held in her hand and causing more than one of our guests to shuffle in their seats. “That little bitch owes my Bae remuneration for his damaged mansion! And my destroyed faery throne!”

  “You mean that fecking pile of glued together rubber dicks you were sitting your prissy ass on?” Dustin smirked. “I could give you some solid suggestions on where else you might like to shove your throne, ye faery fuck!”

  “Dustin!” Joan snapped, her voice sounding awfully similar to the crack of Francesca's whip as she rose out of her seat. “That is quite enough of that sort of language. This is a wedding for spirit's sake! Don’t you people have any respect?!”

  Her voice had risen to a bit of a wail now, and she was turning decidedly red in the face, like someone was about to cop a smackdown and for once, I was glad it wasn't me!

  “Joan, this doesn’t concern you.” The faery queen cocked a manicured brow at my mother-in-law and effectively dismissed her.

  Oooooh bad move, Queenie!

  Watching with glee, I saw Joan’s temper building as her fists curled and her eye began twitching. Oh, this was going to be good.

  “How dare you?” The Copthorne matriarch hissed in fury. “How dare you interrupt my sons’ wedding with your bullshit claims of remuneration? This is a day of celebration and here you are just … shitting all over it!”

  Joan had been marching her angry ass feet down the aisle to the faery assembly as she spoke, but I had no issues hearing her as she continued to berate the Seelie Queen.

  “Well, listen here, sweet cheeks. Consider this payment in full!” And with that, Joan punched the faery right in the throat.

  “Holy shit,” I whispered, watching in awe as Francesca clutched at her neck, her eyes bugging out of her head as she struggled to regain her breath. Joan wasn’t done though! While the queen battled to regain her oxygen, my somewhat badass mother-in-law took the opportunity to tit-punch that bitch!

  “Oh my Odin, she didn’t …” I breathed in disbelief, grabbing at my own tit in sympathy for the faery queen because holy mother fucking shit on a cupcake, tit-punches hurt like a bitch.

  Francesca howled and Baron cautiously climbed to his feet to hold her. With what must have been the most appalling timing in history, as he stood, she doubled over in pain, holding her injured tit. The simultaneous motion sent Baron’s hard dick straight into the queen’s eye.

  “Shit, shit, sorry, honey,” Baron apologized, patting awkwardly at Francesca’s head and somehow managing to tangle his erect dick up in the bullwhip she still held. “Pudding, I think maybe we should go. I’m rich enough to handle my own renovations, don’t you think?”

  The Seelie Queen was now sobbing, holding her tit in one hand and pressing her fingers to her injured eye with the other. She nodded pathetically to her… lover? Then turned her one-eyed glare on Joan, then back up the aisle to me.

  “This isn’t over, you elemental scum!” she screeched, sounding awfully like the Wicked Witch of the West from the Wizard of Oz. Heh, all she needed to say now, was—

  “I’ll get you, my pretty! And your little dicks too!” She sneered this parting line, then beat a hasty retreat behind her posse of kinky attired faery guards.

  “Get fucked,” I muttered. “Did she really just say that?” Raising my eyebrows, I gave each of my six husbands' crotches a good long look. “Ain’t nobody got little dicks around here, that’s for sure!”

  “If we are ready to continue?” The fox-officiant barked, drawing everyone's attention back to the matter at hand. A very public seven-way.

  Marriage that is.

  “Yes, absolutely!” I grinned at the little canine … were foxes canines? Wow, my knowledge of these things really did suck. Sucked harder than Warden sucking Dustin’s dick.

  Oh yep, there we go flooding the basement again. Anyone would think my sump pump was stuffed. Heh.

  “Alright then, if everyone can please take their seats and quiet down?” The fox yipped at a few guests who were whispering amongst themselves and soon quiet fell once more.

  “Now, where was I…” She scratched at her snout with a paw while she thought. “Ah yes, the rings please, Brittany?”

  Britt scooted forward from her seat in the first row, moving awkwardly in her tight, lime green mermaid gown, and handing the collection of rings in her fist over to Shane.

  Fuck that’s a lot of rings.

  “Let’s proceed.” The fox bobbed her head and got stuck into the formalities of the wedding ceremony. As it turned out, there was one ring for each of the men—which I already knew, as I had chosen them all—but they also had one each for me! Six rings all on one finger would have been a bit much though, so they’d coordinated the designs so I could wear three on each ring finger.

  Shane, George and Reg on my left, and Billy, Warden and Dustin on my right. Exactly as they were standing. My mind couldn’t help snagging on those exact pairings and wondering if it was any coincidence that those were the positions we’d all been in for our first orgy?

  But I didn’t believe in coincidences.

  Neither did my husband, it seemed. As Dustin slid his ring on top of Warden's and Billy’s, completing my set, he winked one of those sexy green eyes at me.

  “Never forget who’s on top, lucky charms,” he whispered, and my cunt clenched with desire. Fuck, I hated his arrogant ass but damn if he wasn’t as addictive as coffee and wine.

  “I now pronounce you all, husbands and wife. You may all kiss.” The fox bobbed her head up and down again in encouragement and Dustin seized my jaw in a tight grip. Sealing his lips to mine, he plundered my mouth, taking a kiss from me without a second's indecision or permission.

  “These next hundred years will be interesting if nothing else,” he muttered, acting unaffected when he finally freed me. His cheeks were a little flushed, though, and I could see the hardness in his suit pants which told me just how unaffected he was. Hah, yeah right.

  The rest of my husbands kissed me with considerably more affection and … dare I say… love, before then exchanging kisses themselves.

  “Can we head back inside now?” I asked Shane, a little breathlessly. “That was seriously fucking sexy and I think I’m in need of a good drain snaking.”

  Shane chuckled, as did my other husbands, but he did nod.

  Excellent.

  “Yeah, darlin’, let’s head inside to … freshen up before the reception.” He winked lasciviously and a thrill of excitement shot through me from head to toe. Or maybe that was a bolt of lightning from Warden’s hand on my waist.

  Our wedding guests, none of whom I knew from a bar of soap, were all standing and cheering us as we made our way back down the aisle. I was too damn loved up to give a shit though. Yeah, that’s right I said it. Loved up. I’d just married my six soulmates, and honestly could not have been happier if all six dicks were in me … True story. I was on cloud fucking nine. Nothing could drag me down from this euphoric wave of love and—

  “Gemma?” Reg exclaimed as he stopped dead in front of me and I rebounded off his back when I didn’t react quick enough.

  “Who the fuck is Gemma?” I muttered, rubbing at my forehead where it had collided with Reg’s shoulder blade.

  “Holy fucking rainbow balls,” Warden … swore?

  “No freaking way,” Billy whispered. “Gem Gem? Is that you?”

  “Darlin’?” Shane asked, and it was clear by his line of sight that he wasn’t talking to me.

  “Seriously, who the fuck is Gemma?” I repeated myself, pushing past Reg to see a stunning brunette girl standing in the aisle facing us. She was the perfect picture of what Joan probably imagined her daughter-in-law to be. Dressed in a near replica of Joan’s hunting outfit, this chick instantly made me want to scratch her fucking
eyes out.

  Somehow, deep down, I knew this was the bad feeling Grams had been having all week.

  Looking at each of my new husbands, I frowned, trying to work out what the fuck was going on. Who the hell was this chick and why was no one answering me?!

  “Don’t ask me, my wee leprechaun, I’ve never seen her before.” Dustin raised his hands defensively but the grin on his face said he was looking forward to some drama.

  The immaculate woman cleared her throat, dragging my attention back to her tastefully made up face and smooth, neat hair.

  “I’m Gemma,” she announced, spearing me with a death glare, “and I’m their real spirit.”

  To Be Continued …

  Authors' Note

  Thank you so much for reading Elements of Ruin! We've had so much fun with this series, so we're excited to announce that there will be one last book titled Elements of Desire. Will Ari and her husbands get the happy ending they deserve?

  P.S. If you enjoyed this book, will you please consider leaving a review? It's reviews from people like you that make books like this happen. Also, if you enjoyed Elements of Ruin, you might want to check out some of our other urban fantasy or paranormal romance reverse harem reads. Just keep turning the pages for more info.

  Kisses.

  C.M. and TJ

  The Final Book in the Hijinks Harem Series

  Pack Obsidian Gold - The Seven Mates of Zara Wolf by C.M. Stunich

  The Tiger's Ambush - The Kit Davenport Series by Tate James

  Allison's Adventures in Underland by C.M. Stunich

  Flip the page for an excerpt of chapter one.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Down the Fucking Rabbit-Hole

  A book.

  That's what starts it all, the bloodshed and the violence, the romance and the sex.

  A goddamn book.

  “Are you seriously reading right now?” my younger sister, Lorna, asks as she stands next to me in a silver dress covered in sequins. Her hair is twisted into a bun and secured to the side of her head with about a hundred bobby pins. The design looks like a snail shell to me, but I decide not to say anything.

  I close the book in my hands—some whimsical fantasy of a life I'll never lead—and watch her eyes latch onto the cover.

  “You're reading for fun?” she asks, bending down and snatching the book from my hands before I get a chance to grab it back. I knew I should've brought my Kindle outside instead. At least then she wouldn't have seen the werewolves on the front cover. “This whole thing?”

  “Sorry it doesn't have any pictures in it,” I joke as I rise to my feet and give her a smirking grin in response. “I know that's the only type of book you can read.”

  Lorna rolls her eyes and swipes at her forehead with the back of her hand.

  “Whatever, it's hot as hell out here and we have a party to get to. Come on.”

  I roll my eyes right back as soon as she turns around, and take the daisy chain out of my own hair, tossing it onto Lorna's perfectly coiffed head without her noticing.

  “This is a big deal tonight, so try not to screw it up for me,” she says as I cross my arms over my chest and follow her from the backyard, past the pond and my father's prized koi fish, and into the house.

  “How could I possibly ruin a high school party? Isn't the whole point to screw up?”

  “Seriously, Allison?” she says, yanking the sliding glass door open and stepping inside. She kicks her flats off near the door and heads for the stairs, probably to put on a pair of heels that would most certainly break my neck if I put them on. “And no tennis shoes!” she shouts down, just before slamming her bedroom door and making the whole house shake.

  “Shit.” I run my fingers through the ratted, tangled strands of my hair, all mussed up from lying in the grass and reading all afternoon. “And you think this is gonna impress Brandon?” I whisper under my breath.

  Grudgingly, I pound up the stairs and kick open the door to my room, digging around in the clean clothes pile on the floor (I'm not big on folding stuff and putting it away) until I find a fresh pair of jeans and a plain white tank.

  “Is that what you plan on wearing?” Lorna asks, leaning against the edge of the doorframe and looking down at me from under a pair of false eyelashes. “Jeans and a t-shirt?”

  “It's a tank top, Lor,” I say as I stand up and tear my grass stained tee over my head, trading it out for the new one. “It looks good on me,” I blurt, defending myself before she can say anything mean. With Lorna, it's always best to stay on the offensive.

  “You're into Brandon, right?” she says coyly. I cross my arms over my chest and stare her down. The bitch sneaks into my room and reads my journal; I have no secrets. I don't even bother trying to hide them anymore. “That chess geek or whatever?”

  “Fuck you,” I tell her, pushing past to get to the bathroom before she does.

  Lorna chases after me and shoves her way in anyway.

  “I've got a dress for you,” she tells me, sucking her lower lip under her teeth and smearing lipstick everywhere.

  “I don't fit into your dresses, Lor,” I chastise, pulling out a box of tampons and waving them at her. “Can I please get some peace to put one of these in?”

  “Not until you agree to try it on,” she says, heeling the bathroom door shut behind her.

  As soon as she does, I see it hanging there on the back of the door.

  Shit.

  “What is that effing monstrosity?” I ask, pointing at the blue and white thing dangling from the hook. “I'm not wearing that.”

  “Oh my God, Allison, give me a break. When's the last time you wore a dress?”

  “Three years ago when Aunt Margaret passed away; Mom made me.”

  “You're eighteen years old for crap's sake. Just try it on. If you hate it, I won't make you wear it.”

  “I hate it now. How will putting it on change that?”

  Lorna stares me down and then glances over at the mirror, adjusting the daisy chain so that it sits even prettier atop her perfect white-blonde hair. I have the same hair, but I always put a few colored steaks on the side. Today, I've got a miniature rainbow woven in.

  “I bought this with my own, hard-earned money and …”

  “Fine.”

  I reach over and snatch the dress from the hook, giving it another once-over. To say it's not my style would be an understatement. The skirt is too short and the color …

  “I hate blue,” I groan as I take my top off and drop the dress over my head. It slides into place like it was made for me. Crap.

  “Turn around,” Lorna tells me, making me spin so she can zip it up and tie the white bow in the back. As soon as she knots it, I get this awful feeling in the pit of my stomach.

  “I'm wearing this, aren't I?” I ask miserably, staring at the brightly colored fish on the shower curtain. I can feel my sister grinning maniacally behind me though.

  “Oh, yes,” she tells me, purring in my ear as I swat her away, “yes, you are. Don't you want to get laid sometime, Sonny?” I wrinkle my nose because I hate the nickname Sonny, but Lorna knows it and if I reveal my cards … it'll only make her say it more.

  “I have been laid—several times actually,” I tell her as I turn around and try not to sigh.

  The dress, it actually looks really good on me.

  By the end of the night, I'd get to see how good it looked covered in blood.

  To be fair, it looked pretty good like that, too.

  The party is this overblown nightmare affair at the house of a student I don't even know.

  “This is so fucking great,” Lorna gushes excitedly, yanking me out of the car and slapping my hands away from the dress. I keep trying to smooth the skirt down, but it flounces right back up. I paired it with a red waist cincher, black and white harlequin patterned tights, and some buckled boots, but still … it's ridiculously uncomfortable.

  “Please don't get puking drunk,” I warn as she bounces into the kitchen and
immediately starts filling a plastic cup with vodka. “If you do, I'm not covering for you this time.”

  I watch my sixteen year old sister splash pink lemonade into her drink and then chug it.

  “Whatever,” I mutter, shaking my head and adjusting the big black headband pinned to my hair. It has a small top hat lilting to the side, black silk roses clustered around the base. I can't decide if I look … okay … or ridiculous.

  Weaving through the crowd, I keep an eye out for Brandon, a fellow senior in my class and the only guy at my school who's not a fucking asshole. I'm tired of dating immature, spoiled little boys. I can't wait to graduate and head off to college. But at the same time, there's no way I'm spending my senior year alone.

  Once I find the backyard—this hormonal mess of groping teens and flickering torches to keep the mosquitos away—I spot Brandon. He's sitting on the edge of the pool with his jeans pushed up and his feet dangling over the edge.

  If I'd known then that I'd later see him with a bullet in his head, I'd have run away screaming.

  “Hey,” I say softly, sitting down next to him and crossing my legs. I shove the skirt down between my thighs and it fluffs right back up. I hate you, Lorna, I think as I watch Brandon swirling his feet in the heated waters of the pool.

  “Hey,” he replies, just as softly, pushing his glasses up his nose and smiling over at me. “I don't usually see you at these things.”

  I shrug my shoulders loosely and pick at the edges of the blue and white dress.

  “I don't usually come,” I tell him with a smile that says he is the reason I'm here. Either it doesn't come across or else Brandon's too naive to notice that I'm flirting with him. “So … what are you doing here? This doesn't really seem like your scene either.”

  Brandon sits up and tosses a shy smile my way.

  “My brother dragged me here.”