Power of Five: Reverse Harem Fantasy, Book 1

by Alex Lidell

“It’s been arranged.” River’s jaw tenses. “The Slait king is absent just now. He will be busy for several days yet.”

  “You know him?”

  “Yes.” River’s eyes darken and he opens the door, avoiding my gaze.

  Something in my chest stirs, the same way it did when River and I tangled yesterday. So instead of keeping my mouth shut like a wise person, I turn to study the commander. “You don’t like him very much?”

  “He doesn’t like me very much,” River snaps, dropping my arm.

  I step back, my heart pounding.

  River stalks to his horse, swinging himself into the waiting saddle. For a stupid moment, all I can think about is how River’s muscled body might feel behind me in the saddle, his strong thighs pressed against my legs. The moment passes and I frown at the males. Coal and Tye are mounted already, and Shade is in his wolf form, his tail swishing smoothly back and forth. Which leaves me standing on the ground alone.

  River runs his hand over his face. “Forgive me, Leralynn. Will you do me the honor of riding with me?”

  No. “Of course,” my treacherous voice says, and River pulls me easily into the saddle before him, satisfying my earlier curiosity: Sharing a saddle with River feels like leaning against a heated boulder. I breathe deep, inhaling his scent. Woodsy and strong as an oak tree.

  Plainly, I’ve already been around the fae males too long if the first thing I do is smell them.

  “Your seat is nice,” River says behind me.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Your seat.” He clears his throat, and I can feel his sudden flush of heat. “The way you sit atop a horse. It’s better than it was two days ago.”

  “Oh.” It’s my turn to trip over my words. “Right. There was a great deal of falling in the past two days.”

  “I know.” River’s arms tighten around me, though I can’t tell whether the gesture is out of concern or simple utility. “If it’s any consolation,” he adds quietly, leaning down to speak in my ear, “Coal would do the same to any one of us.” River surveys the group. “Let’s move.”

  The horses move out at a gentle canter that feels heavenly after Coal’s lunge-line drills, and after a few minutes I relax back against River’s muscled body. I feel his hitch of breath and wonder if I’ve made him uncomfortable, but before I can move away, his arm grows even tighter around my waist. Mystwood rises in front of us, a dense green wall ringing with birdsong.

  “How are we crossing through Mystwood with sclices and all?” I ask, looking at the approaching trees. “For that matter, how did you all cross it to get here? I thought the point of these woods was to prevent tourism.”

  “Tourism?” A soft laugh rumbles through River’s chest. “Sclices are just invasive parasites, and it would be poor manners to leave them roaming so near Mystwood’s mortal border. To cross the true wards in the heart of the forest, a passage key is required.” I feel River shifting behind me and turn to find him pulling something out of his shirt, a disk hanging around his neck on a leather thong. “When it became clear that our fifth was in the mortal lands, the Citadel’s Elders Council granted me one of these. We will use it to traverse back the same way we came. For all intents and purposes, it will make us invisible to Mystwood.”

  “Useful,” I mutter. “Are there many of these passage keys?”

  “No.” River raises his voice to speak to the rest of the quint. “Remember that the key will only cover a ten-pace circle, so keep close and control the horses. Shade won’t be able to give us distance. Leralynn, take a deep breath.”

  I don’t have a chance to ask what is about to happen before we take another step and the air ripples around us, settling again into the same forest. Except it isn’t the same forest. The great ash trees rising to the sky still stand, but the smaller branches are gone from sight. The greens, yellows, and reds of the autumn foliage are dull and gray; the sweet smell of sap is nothing but a thin shadow of itself. Even the sun somehow fails to shine onto the trail despite a clear sky.

  “Why is everything so . . .” I search for the right word, “faded?” That is as close a description as I can think of, though it still falls short. Faded things still exist, and half of what should be here is somehow missing.

  “We’ve stepped into the Gloom.” River’s voice ruffles my hair. His, but lacking some of its rich undertones. “The world hasn’t faded; you are simply seeing a shadow of it.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Imagine the normal world—what we call the Light—as a cloak,” River explains patiently. “The Gloom is the cloak’s inside lining, moving and shifting along with the main cloth but separate from it as well. Some of the stitching, like the ash trees you see, penetrates all the way through. Other pieces are shallower, existing only in the Light without roots here.”

  “Why are we here?” I ask, shivering. It’s cold. The kind of cold that a warm cloak won’t fix.

  “Mystwood is warded. The key allows us to pass as long as we move through the Gloom, and it makes us invisible to the beings that dwell here. You are safe.” River’s voice is certain and calm, as if nothing like magic or nature would dare contradict him. “Distance changes here too. What would be a two-day ride in the Light will take us less than six hours here.”

  Six hours. I bite my lip. “Does the Gloom exist in the mortal world?” I don’t say home. These past few days with the males have felt more like home than Zake’s estate ever did.

  “Yes, but the barrier between Light and Gloom is impenetrable in the mortal lands,” says River, oblivious to the effect his deep, gravelly voice is having on me. “You will sometimes see shadows of things that dwell here, dark things that mortals explain away as odd tricks of light.”

  Movement at the corners of my eyes catches my attention, and it’s all I can do not to shudder and curl myself into River’s body. “The Gloom seems an efficient way to travel,” I say, trying to make my voice light and failing.

  “It isn’t. Most fae never step foot in the Gloom, and those who do just use the few shortcut passages they’ve forged. Without a key, it’s too dangerous here. Even without the local residents, the Gloom itself feeds on you. Stay too long or go too deep, and you may never leave. I called the Gloom a lining to the normal world, but it’s a living lining, with currents and depths and shallows like the ocean.”

  My bravery chooses that moment to utterly fail, blood draining from my face as my hands tremble in their grip on the horse’s mane. Of course. Of course I’d shatter when it’s River sitting beside me—River, who probably feeds on fear like the bloody Gloom feeds on life. I can almost hear the commander’s thoughts. Weak, small, useless human.

  River switches his reins to one hand, his other settling on my right shoulder. The large, heavy palm cups my entire joint. River says nothing, his silent breath even and steady against the top of my head. Despite the lack of words, strength from River’s sheer confidence drapes over me, a blanket of safety against the Gloom’s murmuring shadows.

  “How do you know so much about the Gloom if most fae never step here?” I ask finally, as much to hear River speak as to assure myself that my own voice still functions.

  River stays silent for several moments longer. “Because we are not most fae,” he says, his voice hard. Unyielding. “We are a quint, warriors of the Citadel. Our main duty is to protect Lunos from the things that dwell here.” He releases a breath. “We are not safe for you, Leralynn. We aren’t safe for any mortal.”

  17

  Leralynn

  Despite the promised safety of the key, River moves us as quickly as the horses allow, and his body doesn’t truly relax until we pass Mystwood’s shore and emerge from the Gloom into the sun-filled world once more.

  I gasp as my lungs draw their fill of Lunos, the air tasting like the richest of wines. Behind me, Mystwood’s trees once more stand in their gowns of greens and yellows, the occasional bright-red maple leaves floating down like butterflies. We appear to be standing in the count
ryside, fields of wheat extending in all directions, broken by the outline of a deep-blue lake. Far ahead, a range of breathtaking white-capped mountains rises toward the clouds.

  Chip chirip.

  I twist around, the sound of a bird’s call a balm to my nerves after hours in the Gloom. Perfect. Like everything in this realm.

  Chip Chirip.

  Tye dismounts and River lowers me into the other male’s waiting arms. Tye cradles me against his chest for a moment, and I shamelessly burrow my face into his neck, savoring the pine-and-citrus smell. “Is this Slait?” I ask as Tye finally settles me onto the ground. “Are you sure we’re allowed to be here? It would be a shame if some overzealous archers shot something pointy through us for trespassing right when we came up for air.”

  Tye frowns at River.

  “We are fine,” the commander says. He busies himself with taking the saddle off his horse to let the animal rest. “It’s been . . . arranged.”

  There it is again, a hesitation. Something River isn’t telling me.

  “River isn’t telling many people many things,” Tye says lightly, and I realize I said my thought out loud. “And if you find that quality as annoying as I do, then I suggest you give up interacting with Coal altogether too.”

  I narrow my eyes at the redheaded male. “You don’t seem worried about patrols either.”

  Tye grins, his white teeth flashing. “I am always worried about patrols, Lilac Girl.” His grin widens. “I’m just certain that none of them will want to shoot me from afar and deny themselves the pleasure of dragging me to some dungeon or another. Now, more importantly, tell me how you feel?”

  “Alive,” I say honestly. “More alive than I’ve ever felt. As if the world has become more potent. Juicer. Is that an aftereffect of stepping into the Gloom? Or is Lunos different from the mortal realm?”

  “You can feel Lunos’s magic, then,” Coal says behind me.

  “Interesting.” Tye cocks a brow, his gaze roaming arrogantly over me. “I do wonder if Lunos will enhance your other senses as well.”

  I roll my eyes and shove Tye, succeeding only in pushing myself onto my ass. I stand, dusting myself off with as much dignity as I can reclaim. “Can someone please tell me why you are all so sure that some patrol isn’t about to descend on us,” I say.

  “We have one of the Citadel’s keys,” says River, his back to me still. “We’ve been tracked the entire time. Everyone of importance knows exactly where we are.”

  “Especially Autumn,” says Tye, his words aimed at River’s back and pregnant with meaning. “How long until she—” Tye cuts off just as a small, gorgeous female steps out from thin air, squeals, and launches herself at River. She chuckles as River utters an oomph on impact.

  “You’re back!” the female—who I presume must be Autumn—declares, her many blond braids swinging from a perfectly shaped head. She wears bright-green silk trousers that sway sensually with each move of her hips and a cropped top that would be scandalous in my world but looks natural on her. Autumn twists around, her gray eyes sparkling when they fall on Shade, who’s flashed into his fae form. “Stars take me, Shey-Shey, you are back, back?”

  A pang of jealousy that I’ve no right to sours my stomach as Shade opens his arms to welcome Autumn into an embrace. Of course the males have lives and friends and . . . and lovers.

  I swallow and am taking a step back to give the reunion some privacy when the female’s eyes finally land on me—land and widen in unabashed delight.

  “You are the fifth?” Slender arms that are much stronger than they look wrap me in a rib-crushing embrace, releasing me only when I make a pitiful choking sound. “Sorry.” The female cringes sheepishly. “You’re human, right?”

  “Very much so,” I say, rubbing my ribs.

  Autumn loops her arm through mine, and I’m starting to wonder whether the female is truly fae or some natural force given flesh.

  “My brother better be thanking the bloody stars,” Autumn says, shooting River a squint that would do a schoolmarm proud. “In fact, all these animals better be nice to you, or I’m going to rip their pointed little ears right off their empty heads and feed them to the hounds. Or the pigs. The pigs are not nearly as picky about their food.”

  “They’ve been good,” I assure her quickly. “I think they can keep their ears for another day at least.”

  She laughs, the sound musical and infectious, and starts drawing me away. “I’m Autumn, by the way. Why don’t we go on ahead. You won’t believe how dull it gets without a female around, and I want to know all about you.”

  “Autumn,” River’s low voice rumbles in our wake.

  The female waves a hand over her shoulder. “Take care of the beasts like a good lad, River. I can already see that you’ve brought no clothes for your fifth, and I’m getting that corrected right now.”

  As Autumn pulls me away, a small, displeased growl sounds behind us. I turn my head to find all four males in a line, prowling closer on instinct. Predators protecting their kill.

  Instead of blanching, Autumn puts her hands on her slender hips and manages to stare down at all four males from her much lower height. “You four can simmer more quietly and find the manners that appear to have fallen from your pockets. The females wish to talk, and we will see you at dinner.” Her nose crinkles. “You lot better bathe before then too. Coal especially—you reek of sclice blood and frustration.”

  I have no chance to say anything before the world darkens and I’m pulled through thick-as-pudding nothingness into a sunbathed bedroom with dresses, weapons, and jewelry scattered over every surface.

  18

  Leralynn

  “What was that?” I ask, finding my voice.

  Autumn grins like a fiend. “A shortcut. One of the folds in the Gloom. River and I invested a great deal of our childhood into ferreting ways out of this damn house. To call Father a paranoid power-hungry bastard is such an understatement, it renders the whole phrase meaningless.” Autumn hops onto her bed, letting her legs swing down. Now that I look closer, I can see the resemblance to River more clearly, from the gray eyes to the high, perfectly aligned cheekbones. What Autumn lacks in size, she makes up for in unabashed enthusiasm for . . . everything, it seems. “So? Tell me all.”

  I look around for a place to sit. Everything in this room costs many times what I’m worth in the mortal world as an indentured servant, from the intricately carved four-poster bed to the diamond earring tossed atop a pair of discarded stockings. Four tall, arched windows span the far wall, letting in dazzling sunlight that glances off the rich green-gold carpet and silks draping off seemingly every surface. Finally spotting a stool with only a single priceless silk dress on it, I move the garment gently and sit down.

  My mind scrolls through words in search of something to make me sound less pathetic, comes up empty, and settles on the plain truth. “I’m Leralynn—Lera—and until two days ago, I was an indentured servant on an estate near Mystwood. Then whatever magic creates quints made a mistake and accidentally bonded me with River, Shade, Tye, and Coal. Now we are headed to the Citadel to sever the tether so the males can have someone more suitable. So you won’t need to put up with me for too long.”

  Autumn’s face darkens at my words, her gray eyes flashing with a sudden fury to match River’s. “A mistake? Sever the tether? I will feed River’s ears to the pigs.” She pauses, her head cocking, listening to sounds my mortal body can’t hear. “And there is the culprit now,” she announces a moment before I hear a knock. “I warded my rooms,” she explains, glaring at the door.

  The knock sounds again. Louder. More insistent.

  Autumn sighs and waves her hand toward the door, which opens obediently onto a tousled River.

  His gaze rushes around the room until it finds me, slowing upon touching my flesh. “Leralynn.” His voice is rough, with an undertone of urgency that I understand as little as my chest’s sudden tightness. We’ve been apart for only minutes, yet River’s
presence is already filling a hole that began festering in our separation. My gaze drinks him in thirstily, the taut planes of his face, the broad daylight-blocking shoulders, the damn stick-straight back. His gray eyes brush mine, and the room heats around us, the air suddenly thick. Crackling. With what seems like physical effort, River breaks his gaze away from me and finds Autumn’s face. “I need to—”

  Autumn is on her feet before he can finish, one slender finger poking River’s wide chest. “How dare you consider breaking Lera from the quint? Have you lost what passed for brains somewhere in Mystwood?”

  River’s jaw tightens but he grabs Autumn’s wrist with careful gentleness. “Can we discuss what battling Mors’s trash would do to a mortal female later, please?” he asks. “I need to speak with Leralynn.”

  “I imagine you had at least six hours to discuss things with Lera,” Autumn says, scoring a very good point. “Now it’s my turn. And you’ll be happy to know that Father is off making someone else’s life miserable for a change.”

  “I didn’t imagine you’d bring Leralynn here otherwise,” says River.

  “Exactly.” Autumn makes a shooing motion, but I can see a sharp intelligence beneath the bubbly exterior. “Go occupy yourself and we’ll see you for dinner. And if you must fret over something, I suggest wondering why my patrols are reporting that one of the Citadel elders is already at the edge of Slait Court and riding here full speed.”

  Autumn’s patrols?

  River shifts his weight, dismissing Autumn’s words with a brisk wave of his hand. “I am carrying a Mystwood key; of course they are concerned. If I were an elder, I’d not let it out of my sight for a minute more than I must.”

  “You are the crown prince of Slait and lead the strongest quint in the whole of Lunos, bar the Elders Council itself, River.” Autumn’s hard voice resembles nothing of the bubbly girl she was a few minutes earlier. “You think no one was jealous of your power at its height? Secretly glad when Kai’s death made you wither? There are many who will little like seeing you complete again.”