Braving the Beasts

by Aleera Anaya Ceres

  Table of Contents

  Braving the Beasts

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Braving the Beasts

  A Hybrid Trilogy

  Aleera Anaya Ceres

  Braving the Beasts

  A Hybrid Trilogy

  Copyright © 2018 Aleera Anaya Ceres

  All Rights Reserved

  Cover by Imagine Ink Designs

  No portion of this book may be reproduced without written permission from the author. Any unauthorized use of any portion of the book is prohibited.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any names, places, characters, events, and/or incidents are the products of the author's imagination and used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Disclaimer: This book is a reverse harem romance and as such contains scenes that may not be suitable for those younger than the age of 18.

  * * *

  Acknowledgments

  Thanks so much to my beta readers for their help and commentary to get me through this book. Also, thanks for convincing me to do this. It's been a fun rollercoaster, with a sprinkle of stress and smidge of anxiety on the side.

  Chapter One

  "Pull back," he whispered in my ear, "slowly." I felt every inch of his body leaning against me. His breath near my neck sent the hairs on my arms curling. He tapped my elbow with his long fingers, lingering a bit too long on my exposed skin, to change my stance.

  I glowered. "You're distracting me."

  "Pull. Back."

  "I know what I'm doing." To prove my point, I fixed my stance to the oneI was comfortable with, drew the string back and let the arrow fly. It soared straight a hundred feet, right towards the center target so hard that the wood embedded itself deep into the red circle. I smiled triumphantly and gloated. "Try getting that out."

  "Show off," he muttered before bounding off towards the target. He gripped the arrow and pulled it out with barely a grunt, tossed it to the ground then turned back to me, crossing his arms against his chest. "That was too easy," his grin was lopsided, a challenge. My skin prickled at the prospect. "It is no secret you can hit a target. Any idiot can."

  I snorted unpleasantly and shouted back at him. "You certainly can't."

  He ignored my snide comment and continued as if I hadn't spoken at all. "Your real skills will be tested by your ability to hit a moving target. So do it." He held his arms out at his sides.

  I blinked at him, sure I'd heard wrong. "What?"

  "Hit me."

  "Yeah, right." I lowered my bow nearly to the ground but tightened my grip on it when I saw his expression. "You can't be serious."

  He smirked. "Afraid you'll be bested by your guard?"

  I frowned, taking in his profile. He was slightly taller than me with a nice, lithe frame. His long, brown curls were nearly as unruly as my orange ones. The cotton shirt he wore was loose around the collar, exposing the strong curve of his throat, but tight on the arms to show off the smooth mounds of his muscles. His skin was sun kissed and covered in slight white scarring.

  River and I had practically been raised together and we were always competing. Even now at our old age, now that he had grown out of his skinny frame into a muscular man and had become my personal guard. Even now that I had more responsibilities as a princess and had been forced to trade in jeans for dresses.

  Pushing aside my fears, I smirked slyly at him. "Afraid my mother will skin me alive when I kill you." He snorted and it made my skin prickle defensively. "Fine," adjusting the annoying gossamer layers of my long skirt, I pulled an arrow from my quiver, notched it and aimed. "Just don't get mad when I knock you on your ass." I let it fly. But he was quick and stealthy, running towards me at breakneck speed. Swearing, I pulled for another arrow and was aiming even as he zig-zagged across the field. I let it loose and missed.

  Each miss drew him closer towards me. Gaze concentrated, eyes hungry. River was no wild boar. He was a soldier. And he knew me. Knew my tricks, knew my methods. I pulled another, aimed, fired. The arrow whizzed to his face but he moved and it grazed his cheek.

  And then he was in front of me, charging like a bull for its prey. I let out a cry as his body collided painfully against mine, knocking me to the ground. Pain pushed out a breath from my lungs from the impact, his body covering mine.

  "Damn it," I wriggled beneath him and he chuckled. His face was so close. Close enough that I could see the individual drops of blood trickle down the curve of his cheek from where I'd hit him. Close enough that I felt the hot whisper of his breath against my lips.

  "Predict where they'll go," he whispered near my mouth. His body was hard above me, knee parting my legs to dip between them. It sent an embarrassing thrill through me. "Focus on the feet and aim where they will be not where they are."

  "I know how to hunt." I snapped at him with irritation. Irritation that him, of all people, had bested me and irritation at my body's reaction to him being this close.

  "Not well enough," he retorted and then River was standing to give me space. He offered me his hand but I still had enough dignity to get up on my own.

  My dress was now a dirty mess and I was sure my mother would grill me for it later. I was supposed to be practicing dancing with my instructor, after all, and not training with River.

  I grunted, pulling the quiver from my back. The impact from the fall had broken most of my remaining arrows in half. "You owe me a new set." I said harshly, pulling the broken ones out and tossing them to the ground.

  "Don't whine," he teased and leaned forward to ruffle my unruly curls. I batted his hand away and pushed the hair from my face. The curls were irritating, a tangled mess. For a moment I contemplated shaving it all off when loud shouts rang out all around us.

  We were suddenly at attention, readying whatever weapons we had on us and aiming them in the direction of the commotion. The camp was in a hustle, people running around in a panic. I wondered what was going on a brief second before laying eyes on a group of people heading towards the large wooden wall that surrounded our territory. At the head of the group was my father.

  Large and scarred on the right side of his face, he stormed forward with my mother at his left side, two of my three brothers framing them on either side and a series of guards behind them.

  "Let's go," I demanded and was rushing forward to catch up to my family, River at my heels. The dress tangled at my ankles and I had to yank it up with annoyance to run freely. When we arrived I dropped the hem of my skirt and asked, "What's going on, dad?"

  My father glanced at me but didn't stop walking. His hair was a bright flame on his head. My brothers and I all looked like him. Red curls, freckles and bright blue eyes.

  The only difference was that me and my siblings hadn't battled death.

  My father looked at me with one stern, piercing blue eye. The other was a milky white color, thanks to the scar received by that creature. His flesh was pink and distorted, running down the side of his face, dipping into the neckline of his shirt. I knew the scar ran down his chest, side and the entirety of his left leg. It had happened two years ago. I'd been twenty-two then. And I'd nearly lost my father.

  His good eye roamed over me and River behind me. "There's been an attack," he said gruffly.

  My hands tightened around my bow. "Who?" I asked. Tensions were high between the four clans of the Broken World. They always h
ad been. I couldn't fathom why one would attack us now, but I also wouldn't put it past them to be so stupid. "Was it the Murtaugh's?" The Murtaugh's were a clan of warriors, only slightly bigger than ours. They were a ruthless people, a reflection of their terrifying king and princes. Or so rumors had led us to believe.

  "It wasn't from the clans," he snapped impatiently. And I knew. I knew from the worry in his eyes, from the sudden reddening of his twisted scar, that those demonic hybrid beasts were once again upon us. "River," he said to my guard, "come with us. Keanna," he looked at me. "Go find Aidan. We will need him."

  A protest left my lips. "But-"

  "Go find your brother! Tell him we need him. And meet us in the entryway."

  Sighing and fighting back more protests, I turned and went in search of Aidan.

  The noises emanating from the room didn't register until I actually opened the door and the scene played out before me. "Aidan?" He was against the wall, his pants swung low on his hips. And pressed tightly against him, legs wrapped around his waist, was my mother's maid. I slammed my eyes closed, gagging as I tried pushing that image from my mind, the image of her head thrown back in pleasure and my little brother's swiveling hips.

  "Get out, Keanna!" He grunted.

  "In mother's room, Aidan? Really?" I groaned.

  The noises stopped suddenly, there were murmurs, the rustling of clothes and then Aidan said, with slight teasing, "I'm decent, sister."

  I opened my eyes to glare at him and the maid. I'd never see him the same again, or her for that matter. "Father needs us in the entryway, Aidan. Now."

  I didn't give him time to ask questions, instead turning on my heel, I marched away. He caught up to me rather quickly. And he was alone.

  Exasperation washed over me. "Really, Aidan? Maude?"

  He smirked, unperturbed. "What? Maudey's a sweet girl."

  Rolling my eyes, I nudged him with my elbow but contemplated whacking his head with my bow. "So she's 'Maudey' now?" Another thought occured to me. "That's why you always seem to have extra rations and desserts." I accused.

  Disapproval must have bled through my words because he pressed a hand to his chest indignantly. "Dont try to act like you're high and mighty. I've seen you with your guard. Besides, I'm not the only one getting extra rations. Adahm and Alastair are, too."

  Ignoring his jab regarding River, I nearly gagged again. "Oh, ugh. You'resharing her?"

  He chuckled. "She doesn't know the difference."

  My brothers were triplets and so alike in manner and speech that not even our mother could tell them apart. Massive men, with wide chests and arms and bright, untameable curls.

  "Pigs. All of you."

  "Don't knock it until you try it."

  I didn't bother with a response as we made our way through the village.

  After the wars and the takeover of demonic hybrids, the world fell into chaos. Ruins of what life had been like before were scattered about in decaying structures of homes and buildings. I'd never seen the Ruined City. Far off where the land was rough and unforgiving was Murtaugh territory. As dangerous as those who ruled it.

  We Ferguson's lived in the woods. My ancestors had migrated here and built an enormous wooden wall around our land. To keep those things out. To protect our people.

  Sightings had been so scarce these past few years, nearly nonexistent. My blood boiled and nerves racked through my entire body at the thought of one of those things so close to our home. I much would have preferred the Murtaugh's.

  The entryway doors were wide open. A crowd had gathered around. They parted as Aidan and I walked through to get to the front.

  The first thing I noticed was the blood. The scent hit me in a powerful wave that nearly had me gagging. I braved the smell, holding my head up high, though. My father was king of our clan and I, the princess. We were pillars of strength and no weakness could show. Even if I wanted to retch at the smell.

  The sight of it was much, much worse than the stench. Blood so dark a red it nearly looked black pooled in the grass, looking as though the very earth was bleeding. How could people have so much blood? It dripped from the branches of trees along with the remains of clumpy organs that looked suspiciously like brains. Body parts were strewn everywhere, making it hard to tell the gender of those mauled.

  My father was bent over a torso, examining it with a heavy gaze. My mother's skin had gone a pale shade, but her face was etched in determination, ever strong was my mother. My siblings for once, were speechless.

  "Baal," my father whispered. The mention of that creature, of the thing that had attacked him made my father's lips tighten. His scar seemed all the more visible somehow. The crowd behind us stirred restlessly. He stood up and turned to look at us. At his family and at his tribe. "It's back," he said gravelly.

  A shudder went down my spine. It had come back. The creature that had attacked my father years ago had come back for its revenge. So close to our home. It had slaughtered the guards posted at our doors. What was to stop it from tearing apart our entryway and coming into the village? I didn't want to believe it was possible. But these things weren't supposed to exist anymore. They were supposed to be dead. Gone. Yet here they were, tipping the balance of our fragile society. Anything was possible.

  "Pick up any body parts you can find." My father began ordering the guards. "Clean up the blood as best as you can and post archers along the top of the wall. They're to shoot anything that gets too close. Hurry and close the entry. Tonight, we lay our dead to rest." The guards got to work, picking up bits of arm, leg and fingers, throwing them into potato sacks. My father turned to me and my siblings. "Meeting. Now." And he walked away. The people followed him fearfully. I shared a look with my three brothers. Already, their faces became the same one and I couldn't tell them apart. I never could. They all nodded once and I gulped before turning to follow our father, trying to forget the gruesome scene behind me but I knew it would forever haunt my dreams.

  Chapter Two

  "I knew it couldn't be dead." My father paced back and forth before the long table in our grand dining room. We were all seated accordingly, my mother at his right, my siblings in a perfectly aligned row to his left and me on the other end.

  There were no guards or servants present, giving my family the privacy we needed. Maude had come in briefly to place pastries and drinks on the table before us. I noticed she glanced at my brothers, but none of them returned her gaze before she left, closing the doors behind her.

  "It attacked so close this time." My mother's voice was fierce with fiery rage. "How dare that creature venture into our territory?" Her brown eyes roamed over the map that lay before her and my father. Her dark brown hair, threaded through with gray strands of age, was coiled into a tight braid behind her back. "What if it attacks the entryway next time?" She demanded and then slammed her fist atop the table. "We cannot fight it off."

  "No," my father agreed calmly. He'd stopped his pacing to stare down at the map. "We don't have the numbers."

  "It's just one creature," my brother, Alastair-I think-chimed in. "We have an army, father."

  "It would take at least twenty men to take down one of those demons. Everyone thought Baal to be dead. What's to say there aren't more of those things out there? That it won't bring them all to attack us next time?"

  "I say we look for their hiding place. Send sentries out into the woods to search and report back how many and where they are." Adahm-I think -said.

  My father's brows furrowed. "You saw what it did to the guards standing watch, did you not? Will you be the one to send good men to their deaths on a suicide mission?"

  Adahm sat back in his chair and Aidan sat up straighter. "It caught them unawares. This time, they would be prepared with better weapons and more guards."

  My father let out an exasperated breath. "Let's say the one that killed the guar
ds was a stray. If you lead more out to stalk them and theydo find a nest, how do you know they will not just lead them back here and cause the slaughter of our people?"

  Aidan slumped in his chair.

  My eyes were focused on the map before my mother, on the colorful green and brown that marked our territory, to the gray and black of the savage Ruined City of the Murtaugh's, to the higher mountainous lands of the Griffin's and down to the beached lands of Tilly's. The answer was there. And it was so obvious.

  "Keanna," my father startled me. "Do you have something to add?"

  I looked into my parents' eyes. They were expectant. I was the heir and if I failed, I'd be shamed. "An alliance." I said clearly. "We call forth the other clans for aid."

  He smiled slightly as if pleased by my answer. "And which clan do you propose?"

  I looked across the map. The Murtaugh's were the obvious answer. Their army was the strongest and in a battle against these things, we needed numbers and strength. But they were untrustworthy. And they hated us. They would not come.

  "The Griffin's," I answered cautiously. "They are great at building big weapons. Catapults could be useful against a hybrid."

  "And why do you think they would come?" My mother asked. It was a quiz. A test. It was always a test with her. She was always pushing me, pressuring me into being better, smarter, stronger.

  "They owe us," I reminded them. "When our ancestors aided them in war against eastern invaders. It may be time to call in that debt."

  "And what if it is only one hybrid? Calling forth a favor for one creature is a waste of resources, a waste of that favor." My mother's eyes were hard and unforgiving on mine.

  "Then we go with their plan," I nodded at my brothers. "Send out a sentry. A good one. A stealthy one." My hands tightened into fists. "An expert of the land to track the beast. Maybe more can be found."

  They regarded my words carefully before my father answered. "And who would you trust with such a task?"