Anaya's Pride: A Reverse Harem Love Story (Beasts of Ironhaven Book 1)

by Chloe Cole

  "Anaya, meet Connor," Gatlin said from the head of the table, gesturing to the male I was seated closest to, "Michael," the quiet one with the golden eyes inclined his head politely, "and Lucian."

  My gaze clashed with the dark giant's and I forced a tight smile, fighting off the strange shiver of excitement that shot through me. "Pleasure to meet you all.”

  “Likewise. And you look lovely tonight. That dress is perfect on you,” Connor said with a smile.

  I thanked him but was saved from saying more and potentially putting my foot in my mouth when the kitchen doors swung open and the cook and several maids came bustling through, arms laden with food.

  There were rolls and puddings and game pies. Roasted root vegetables and steaming pots of stew. The scent of beef drippings and butter filled the air as the men straightened and rubbed their hands together.

  “You’re in for a treat,” Connor said, his hazel eyes twinkling. “Cook made her famous kidney pie tonight.”

  The aforementioned Cook’s round face cracked into a wide smile. “Your favorite, lad,” she said, pausing to pat his arm once her tray was set on the table.

  There was no question it was a mouth-watering array and, as the servants filed out back into the kitchen, Gatlin motioned for me to dig in.

  I’d thought, what with the nerves and all the new faces, I’d have lost my appetite, but instead, my mouth was watering.

  For the next hour, we fed, sipped mead and talked, with Gatlin and Connor largely leading the conversation. I still felt on edge, like I was walking a tightrope, but as the evening wore on, I grew more comfortable.

  The closeness between brothers was easy to see, and oftentimes I found myself just sitting back and watching them interact.

  When there was a lull in the conversation, I swiped my mouth with my napkin and turned to Gatlin. “Might I ask, how did you all wind up here in this position?”

  It was a fair question, and one that I’d asked around about at the inn, discreetly, and had been met with no real answer.

  Gatlin set his fork down and leaned back in his chair.

  “It’s hard to say precisely when the tradition began, now that most of all the old writings were destroyed during the Great Sick, but our own father was one of the previous king’s tutors. As boys with no royal blood ourselves, our options were limited.” He glanced at Lucian, who was chewing on a rib bone. “My oldest brother initially decided not to follow in my father’s footsteps, choosing to travel the world fighting in other people’s wars to make his gold. And Michael chose to travel as well, for other reasons. Connor and I basically just picked up where our father left off. The older generation retired, my brothers returned home with a change of heart and, now, here we are,” he said with a shrug.

  “The pay is good, and there are perks,” Connor said with a mischievous wink. “And we feel like we’re doing a service to the girls who come through. It makes it…easier on them.”

  “And your mother?” I asked, still trying to put all the pieces together.

  Gatlin’s gaze went flinty and I wished I could snatch the words back.

  “My mother and father are still together and happily retired on the Isle of Respen.”

  That wasn’t what I’d been asking, of course. What I couldn’t wrap my mind around was having my mate constantly touching, kissing and doing lord knew what else with other women. I knew it happened every day. Lots of the princes had two mates, the king had a whole harem. But for me?

  I just couldn’t fathom it.

  As I looked at each of the brothers, scanning their fingers for rings, another question came out, unbidden.

  “Are any of you mated?”

  “No,” Gatlin said, answering for all of them.

  I was still mulling all the new information over as I plucked up a now cooling dinner roll. Had their mother been a happy woman, knowing what her husband did, day after day?

  Already, after one silly kiss, the thought of Gatlin kissing someone else that way made my heart pinch just a little.

  Distracted, I sliced open the roll with my knife and then gasped as pain shot up my arm.

  “Son of a—” I bit off the word and held up my finger for inspection. Blood welled from the tip, but before I could swipe it away, Connor took my hand and held it to his lips, flicking his tongue over the tiny cut and then sucking the tip of my finger into his mouth.

  The touch shot through me like lava, heating me from the core outward as we locked gazes.

  The space between my thighs ached as my nipples went tight.

  The entire room seemed to hold its breath when, suddenly, the pealing chime of a doorbell had me jerking my hand away in shock.

  “Are you all right then, lass?” Connor asked, his tone low and husky.

  “Y-yes. Just clumsy, thank you.” I covered the wound with my napkin as one of the servants stepped into the room.

  I stood and tossed my napkin onto the table.

  “Excuse me while I clean this up.”

  I rushed from the room to the nearest bathroom and closed the door, leaning on it as my legs went weak.

  These men were going to be the death of me. The feel of Connor’s hot mouth sucking on my finger was enough to make my whole body shiver, and that didn’t even account for my near-death experience after Gatlin’s kiss.

  I pushed myself from the door and rinsed off my finger. The blood had already slowed and, soon, it would stop altogether. We healed fast and Connor’s saliva would only speed the process, as it was with our kind.

  I passed my uninjured hand over my hair before squaring my shoulders. Other than that mishap, the evening had gone well so far. Considering I’d half wondered if I might not get through the day without being ravaged against my will, and that Gatlin’s brothers didn’t seem like heartless beasts as I’d feared, I should be giddy.

  I left the bathroom and made my way back into the dining room to find the dishes mostly cleared away and the brothers sitting in thick silence.

  “What?” I asked tentatively. “Who was that at the door?”

  Gatlin held up a creamy sheet of paper and met my gaze. “It’s a missive from the king. He and the queen are throwing an impromptu ball at the castle tomorrow night and he expects us to be in attendance.”

  He held out the invitation and I stepped closer, running my fingers over the fine silver detailing on the sheet.

  “Speaking of the queen, what are her feelings?” I asked, suddenly feeling a bit ill.

  Gatlin considered my question for a moment. “Regarding what?”

  “Well, I’m going to be—” I couldn’t bring myself to say the words. “Be with her husband. How must that feel to her?”

  “She, of all people, understands the way our society works. I wouldn’t think you have anything to worry about,” Connor said, giving me a reassuring smile.

  Biting my bottom lip, I thought back to the ceremony. It was true, Sebastian’s wife had seemed completely impassive when I’d been claimed, but there was a part of me that still couldn’t quite make sense of it.

  “We have more important things to discuss than the queen,” Gatlin reminded her. “Tomorrow is now your debut at the castle. You’ll need to impress.”

  My worries for the queen shifted to stark terror as I began to worry about myself.

  “And how am I supposed to do that?”

  Connor’s smile went wider as his gaze raked over me, leaving a trail of flames in its wake.

  “Leave that to us.”

  Chapter 5

  What with that new bit of drama added to my already heaping plate, when the men asked if I would like to retire to the study for a glass of sherry, I opted to beg off, if permitted. Connor offered to walk me back to my room but I declined, perhaps a little too quickly, before rushing away like my behind was on fire.

  Gatlin hadn’t been kidding when he said that all of the Saint John men at once were overwhelming. I hadn’t gotten much sleep since the ceremony, but I was pretty sure that much of
my exhaustion had more to do with my head whipping back and forth to keep up with them and the volatile emotions that each one of them seemed to stir up inside me.

  To my surprise, though, I slept like a baby…if babies dreamt of four strong, muscled men in unseemly circumstances, at any rate. But I woke up feeling ready to tackle the day. Going to the castle to meet the king face-to-face and spend some time there would only arm me with more information about my future. More information meant more control and, for that alone, I was grateful for the opportunity to go.

  My good spirits flagged quickly, though. Once I’d been fed breakfast, Gatlin and Connor took turns ushering me from one mind-numbing appointment to the next. The dressmakers, a haberdashery, and a place that just sold ribbons, of all things. I protested from the very start. I had gobs of dresses, didn't need ribbons, and had a perfectly good pair of slippers, but apparently, none of it met the standard for a ball at the castle.

  It wasn’t until I got poked in the bottom with a pin by a very bored-looking woman five hours later that I broke.

  “Please, please, Gatlin, enough,” I whimpered, rubbing my posterior. “Can this be our last stop? I’m going to be far too exhausted for any ball at this rate.”

  He nodded and blew out a sigh. “Fine. I’d wanted to get you new shoes to dance in, but let’s face it. After the debacle at the ceremony, best if you leave the dancing to others, for this evening anyway.”

  I frowned, opening my mouth to protest that I’d stepped on a hot coal, but then snapped it shut. I’d gotten what I wanted, no point in picking nits.

  Once he secured a promise from the seamstress that my alterations would be ready within the hour, he all but dragged me from the store, the rest of my bags in tow.

  We climbed back into the carriage where a waiting Connor shot me a grin.

  “Ready for hair, love?”

  I groaned and shook my head. “Gatlin said this could be the last stop.”

  “Well, then, lucky for you we have a pair of women who comes in thrice a week for just that purpose.”

  I could tell by their matching smirks that they’d pulled one over on me. I thought I’d gotten out of having to sit through a long, elaborate hair do, but apparently not.

  The rest of the carriage ride back to their palace was spent in sulky silence that no amount of Connor’s teasing could pull me out of.

  When we arrived, sure enough, there was a pair of women waiting in my bedroom with what looked like enough frippery to adorn the whole harem.

  I sat with an internal groan and tried to stay still while they twisted my hair into intricate knots, heated others into curls, and pinned them all back with posies until I looked as polished and primped as a bride on her wedding day.

  As they began to pack up the remaining finery, a knock sounded on the door.

  I stood and crossed the room, tugging the robe I was wearing more tightly around me.

  Lucian stood in the doorway, towering over me. He looked dashing in a dark grey waistcoat and fitted black pants. His longish, dark curls were pulled back into a tie behind his head, framing his sharp-as-knives cheekbones.

  His energy was so overpowering that I almost wanted to take a step back, but at the same time, there was a pull between us that made me want to step closer.

  His ebony gaze traveled over my hair and face and then his strong throat worked as he nodded. “The rest are still getting dressed. They asked me to deliver this to you and make sure you were almost ready to go.”

  “Yes, thank you. I just need to put this on.”

  He handed it over and wordlessly turned away to storm back down the hallway and out of sight.

  I closed the door with a sigh and caught sight of the two women behind me, who stood staring, mouths agape.

  “You are the luckiest woman in the world,” the taller of the two, a leopard shifter, said with a stunned shake of her head. “He is delicious. If only I was able to produce lion cubs, I’d be knocking at the door to get into that harem if only for the weeks I got to spend here with that one.”

  The other woman laughed as she shouldered her bag full of wares. “He’s plenty fit, but I think I prefer the other one with the golden eyes.”

  Michael.

  Clearly, they’d seen them all, and I could understand having a favorite, but I couldn’t help but argue. “They’ve been very kind. But there’s something to be said about having a choice in these matters, isn’t there? When I leave here, I will belong to the king whether I want to or not.”

  They both stared at me and then looked away, shuffling uncomfortably.

  It only struck me then that what I’d said was borderline treason and I swallowed hard.

  “Not that I’m complaining,” I hurried, carrying my dress to lay it carefully on my bed.

  “Aye, Miss. We understand.”

  The leopard shifter made for the door, wishing me a good evening, as the other lagged behind.

  “Would you like some help getting her on, then?” She shot a glance to the massive garment bag.

  “Thank you, yes.”

  When I finally freed it from safekeeping, I had to admit, Gatlin did have an eye.

  It was a deep, dark shade of emerald with intricate beading all along the stunning corset bodice. At the waistline, tulle swelled out in little tufts, highlighting the places in the skirt where gems had also been placed.

  It was too gorgeous for words, and for a moment I only blinked at it, rather stunned that I would be wearing something this elegant.

  With shaking fingers, I disrobed and slid the dress on. It slithered over my underclothes like cool rain and I shivered.

  With the help of the cooing hairdresser, within a short ten-minute period, I was packed in right and tight, gasping for air.

  “All eyes will be on you,” her gaze shifted to my bosom, which was spilling out from the sweetheart neckline, “and those.” She gave me a smile and wished me luck before leaving me alone and closing the door behind her.

  I turned to the mirror and blinked in surprise. I’d seen the transformation in bits, but altogether, at once, it was remarkable.

  The color was the perfect compliment to my skin and hair, and the figure I’d always thought of as overripe looked almost…decadent.

  My cheeks glowed a burnished peach as I imagined what the Saint John brothers would think of it.

  As if by magic, a knock sounded at the door and I opened it to find Gatlin waiting for me in the hall.

  “I’m all ready to—” But my breath was stolen when I caught sight of what he held in his hands: a tiara positively dripping with emeralds and diamonds.

  “Your dress.” He nodded and then cleared his throat. “You’re gorgeous.” He settled the headpiece onto my curls, careful to pin it securely in place.

  He stood back for a moment and then gave a curt nod before holding out an arm for me to take.

  “Gatlin, what if I mess up tonight and—” I started.

  “You won’t.” His deep blue eyes were solemn and true. “Trust me. One of us will be by your side all night. Now, come on. Let’s go show everyone how absolutely stunning you are.”

  A thrill soared through me at his words. “Thank you.”

  “No need to thank me for stating facts. Now, come, we’ll be late.”

  He led me down the stairs to the foyer where the rest of his brothers waited, all dressed to impress.

  “Perfect,” Connor said, shaking his head slowly. “Just perfect.”

  Michael’s golden eyes spoke volumes as a smile tugged at his full, sensual mouth. Even Lucian looked impressed, all of which gave me confidence. If I had to go to a ball at the castle, at least I could go feeling good about myself. Pretty, even.

  It was a first.

  By the time we got in the carriage again, the sun was getting low in the sky.

  The second we stepped into the huge, elaborate ballroom of the castle, every eye in the room turned our way. The dull roar of chatter and laughter died away, and though the
lilting sounds of the string quartet continued to play, it did nothing to distract from the public fascination with the Saint John brothers.

  I couldn’t blame them, either. But when I looked out at some of the faces, I realized that a lot of them were looking back at me.

  “Good start, they’re impressed,” Gatlin said, resting his hand gently on the small of my back.

  My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth at the touch and even more so when a gleaming, blonde woman swept toward us. Unlike mine, the queen had allowed her flowing blonde mane to hang around her shoulders and highlight the angles of her collarbones. She wore a form-fitting white gown and her crown topped off the near-perfect look.

  Only near perfect because, though the other woman grinned as she made her way toward us, I sensed it was nothing more than a thinly veiled scowl turned upside down.

  Whatever the Saint John brothers thought, my intuition told me the truth of the matter. And the truth was, Queen Gwynthryl hated my guts.

  “Ah, the king’s newest toy. We were all hoping you would be here soon.” She held her spindly arms out toward me and I took her hands as she kissed me on both cheeks. “We were also hoping you might dance for us. Your last performance was so…memorable.”

  A titter of laughter rose up behind the queen, and my cheeks went white hot.

  And there it was. The first shot fired, with all the grace of a master.

  My sympathy for her and her plight faded some as I forced a smile.

  “I’m glad to have brought you some joy, my queen,” I said softly.

  Before she could reply, another person came striding our way, and though he glanced at his wife, he seemed to hardly notice her before focusing his gaze, with an almost predatory gleam, on me.

  Worse and worse.

  I curtsied for the king and he, too, reached for my hand.

  “I’m so pleased to see you again,” he said, pressing a moist kiss to my hand that had me recoiling.

  I was at a loss for words at the awkwardness of the situation when Gatlin cleared his throat.