Ravens
Sons of Olympia Reverse Harem Romance
by
Helen J Perry
Ravens: Sons of Olympia Reverse Harem Romance © Helen J Perry March 2018
Cover: Silver Heart Publishing
Print version: ISBN-13: 978-1986340908
All rights reserved. No part of this story may be used, reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the copyright holder, except in the case of brief quotations embodied within critical reviews and articles.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
The author has asserted his/her rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book.
This book contains sexually explicit content which is suitable only for mature readers.
Written in American English.
Author's website: HelenJPerry.com
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About: Ravens is book 1 in the son's of Olympus trilogy, all three books published in March 2018.
In her dreams, Brenna has no inhibitions.
Will she be willing to take new risks
When she meets the men of her dreams?
Not one man but three princes.
In this Cinderella story
She isn't sure she wants to be a princess.
She'd rather be in the library!
Walking away from the men isn't easy.
Even though she doesn't understand the magic that binds them,
They are her soulmates
And irresistible.
Ravens is a sizzling Reverse Harem fantasy romance for adult readers.
With lots of hot adult scenes.
And a gorgeous man who sheds real tears.
There is no cheating, no MM, and no cliffhanger and it can be read as a standalone.
It is book one in the Sons of Olympus trilogy.
All three books are written and ready to publish in March 2018.
Book 2: Defenders
Book 3: Architects
PROLOGUE
“By fate, even her given name means raven.” Victor turned from Hierax, the leader of his personal security. “While I attend to matters of state, you will arrange a team to watch her.”
“Yes, Your Highness. We will keep her within in our sight.”
Focusing on the calm ocean view before him, Victor drew in a deep breath and resisted turning to the Corax least he saw the prince’s annoyance. “By the wrath of Apollo, I expect more than that. Your role is greater than simply to watch and relay messages. When I send you to watch over my love, it is not merely as a spy. You will be on a mission to ensure her safety.”
“I assure Your Highness, no harm will befall her.”
“It must not.” Victor turned his gaze upon Hierax. He had to be sure he understood what was expected. “Brenna must come to no harm even if, as in the story of Apollo and Coronis, you have to peck out peck the eyes of her assailant.”
“In that story, although Apollo was furious, Coronis had freely and willingly taken another man as her lover. What would you have me do in the same situation?” He looked at the prince quizzically.
“That cannot happen. Apollo and Coronis were lovers but not soulmates. The soulmate bond will prevent her from falling in love with anyone else. You know that, Heirax.”
“I understand, but your lady is human, as was Coronis, I am not sure their souls are like ours. Is this wise for Your Highness to risk courting a mortal human?”
Victor shook his head. “We are mortal too, though we live by the grace of the gods.” He wondered if this man had listened to one word. If so he must be either stupid or insolent.
Removing him from his post would take too long. Hierax was up to the job of security detail so it would be simpler for Victor to explain things again. “Brenna may not understand the soulmate bond that exists between us, not yet, but it is there. The bond is made and is already too strong for her to break. She will take no other lover of her free will. Your job is to protect her from harm, Heirax. When she eventually joins us, she may ask the gods to make her one of us. It will be her choice.”
CHAPTER ONE
Hot and sweating, she lay on the bed for a moment to take stock.
“Gonna party it up like I’m ninety years old,” Brenna declared to the ceiling, grinning before rolling over and planting her face against the pillows. Or, at least, against the dust sheets that buried them. Early bedtime, lots of sleep, and hours for reading. She’d do a whole novel in one sitting, or possibly a series.
This is the best.
The soft bed smelled a little musty, but Brenna didn’t let the odor deter her happiness. she’d just finished lugging her suitcase up the stairs and unpacking everything for her three-month stay. Considering the stifling humidity, that had been just this side of an Olympic feat. Having a place of her own, on her own, felt liberating, even if it was only a temporary stay. After four long years at a university, sharing a cramped dorm room with near strangers, she had her own massive, private domain.
The silence sounded golden.
She rose from the bed and moved to the window, looking out over the backyard of Dr. Kilpatrick’s house. The lawn spanned only about fifty feet before it met forest. When Brenna’s parents had approached her about house sitting for their family friend, she'd hesitated. The house was in a small town surrounded by woodland. Staying in a big old house surrounded by a forest and a couple of miles outside of the nearest small town sounded creepy. Horror movies were set in small towns just like Beaumont, after all. The way it looked on the internet, the tiny town of Beaumont had sprung up between the trees.
On the other hand, after spending all her life in the busy city of Riverside, house sitting for three months offered a great chance for Brenna to embrace nature. She’d once loved nature and parks, and bird watching, but she’d never ventured out into the wilderness alone.
As the time neared, she deliberately didn’t read any Gothic horror or Stephen King, or watch The Walking Dead, for that matter.
Now she was here, however, she found the forest beautiful. From the moment she’d neared the town in the car, she’d itched to get out there. There were few things in her life she’d been so drawn to. With the trees growing at the foot of the yard, she had every reason to get out and explore. Once she was on top of chores in the house and lawn, she’d have time to explore.
Brenna abandoned the window.
She bunched up the dust sheet, then tossed it through the open doorway to land in a heap on the floor of the landing. Dr. Kilpatrick had said she’d find a washer and dryer in the basement, along with some window-mounted air conditioners.
With sweat dripping down her forehead and back, she figured it was too damn warm to do anything but focus on getting the window AC units put into place. She’d take a window AC over nothing any day of the week. With the full intention of getting cool air set up, she began to head down to the basement.
Having been focused for so long on her studies, at which she’d excelled, she became easily distracted in this new environment. She decided to take a roundabout route to tour the substantial property on the way—at least, that was the plan. She poked her head into every room and closet on the ground floor, which didn’t take long.
A sliding glass door from the living room opened onto a small p
atio with furniture: a round table with an umbrella and four chairs sitting next to a covered barbecue. Brenna had never grilled before, and she wondered if she should take advantage or stay far, far away in case she set fire to everything.
The grass would soon need mowing. Brenna tucked that chore away, slotting it in around the cleaning she wanted to do. Dr. Kilpatrick had a riding lawn mower, and Brenna looked forward to taking it out for a spin. She’d never been on one before, but they looked like a blast.
The forest guarded the horizon.
Brenna lingered on the patio, observing the tree-lined distance for a while. Since becoming an adult, she’d not been much of an outdoorsy kind of girl, but there was something…appealing about the woods that made her want to investigate. She hoped to reconnect with the kid inside her.
Not now, Brenna was too practical for that. The sun was heading for the horizon, and she wasn’t interested in wandering into the forest when it would get dark soon. Getting lost on her first night in Beaumont wasn’t on her bucket list. It was far better to get her new home all set up. She would explore later.
Brenna took one last glance at the black line of forest, then shook her head and returned inside the house. One day she’d get out there. Tomorrow, maybe.
But she stopped at the sliding glass doors and looked back, the pull growing stronger by the moment. Ugh. She couldn’t resist. Okay, fine, she’d go just a few feet, barely out of sight of the house. A short walk wouldn't hurt, right? She had to stretch her legs.
Forgetting everything else, she raced to grab essentials. Her compass, map, and most important of all, a phone in case she got lost. She could call for help or use the GPS to find her way out.
Just a quick look around, and then she’d get back to setting up the house.
The second day the pull to explore the forest was even greater and Brenna went with it. She had plenty of time to sort out her living space, but after her hard work at college she'd deserved time for relaxation.
Enjoying the natural beauty of the forest, she’d sat for a moment on a moss-covered mound surrounded by ancient gnarled trees, twisted into spooky shapes. It was her second day house sitting for Dr. Kilpatrick and her second trip into the forest. She hadn’t walked far from the property when she’d stumbled on the beautiful spot.
For a second, she entertained the idea of curling up on the velvety-soft moss in the clearing and relaxing in the dappled sunlight, which broke through the canopy overhead. She might even pull out a book to read, having about a thousand titles in her backpack.
She went nowhere without her eReader.
Under the cool cover of the trees, Brenna appreciated the relief from the powerful sunlight that would burn her skin if she sat out for an hour. Sunlight so bright, it would reflect harshly off the paper pages of real books. Mostly, she liked the cooler temperature within the forest, especially as she hadn’t yet got the air conditioning installed in the upstairs bedroom windows. Last night had been too hot for words. She could take a nap right here.
The urge to curl up with a thousand books didn’t last for long, though.
A shrill squawk distracted Brenna’s attention from the trail mix she’d just opened. Instinctively, she turned toward the sound but saw nothing other than dense woodland.
She’d sat a mere matter of minutes before hearing the noise. The continued squawking disturbed the peaceful beauty. It grew bolder and louder, and seemed near, although she couldn’t tell for sure.
As a townie by background, Brenna was unused to how sounds traveled through the trees. She didn’t need a rural upbringing, though, to recognize the sound of not one but several birds becoming more frantic. Urban-bred city woman she may be, but when she was much younger, Brenna had been an enthusiastic ornithologist. Getting out of town, into the parks and open spaces to watch birds whenever possible, was once a hobby she’d loved. Although, that had been ten years ago or more, and so her factual recall on all things bird related was a little rusty.
Her interest in bird watching waned in her teenage years when school studies became more intense. And there were many other extracurricular distractions through the puberty years, from video games to pop music to teenage girls.
Curious about what was making the din, Brenna closed the bag of trail mix and set out to investigate the noise, which was impossible to ignore.
She picked her way slowly and carefully through the trees, hoping not to disturb whatever was going on. She was certainly no expert, yet she sensed that such a continued ruckus in the forest wasn’t normal. The hum of cicadas and the chirp of songbirds? Sure. But this noise wasn’t birdsong. Something out there distressed the birds.
Brenna followed the commotion, and before long, she wandered into a tiny clearing. At the bank of one of the still ponds clustered a congress of ravens. Corvids, as she’d suspected, by the sounds of them. Good to know she hadn't forgotten everything about birds. Though she hadn’t tapped into that knowledge for more than a decade, her recall may not have been so rusty as she'd thought.
There had to be at least fifteen or twenty ravens, at a quick guess. With black feathers ruffled and reflecting the sunlight, they hopped, skipped, and squawked at the water’s edge, distressed about something. There were so many of them, Brenna couldn’t get a read on the cause of their concern.
Cautiously, she approached.
The water of the pond glimmered in the sunlight, its surface disturbed now and then by passing water striders. Tall grass grew along one side of the bank. If it weren’t for the unholy ruckus of the ravens, it would be a peaceful place to relax. The forest seemed full of such magical spots.
The ravens soon noticed her. They all turned and stared at her, their dark eyes severe.
They were carrion birds. Even though she didn’t know the bad omens mythology surrounding them, associating them with death, the very look of them brought those things to mind. With sharp beaks and brutal, curved claws, they appeared menacing.
One rose and batted its wings in front; its squawking grew shrill.
Calming or defensive, or perhaps intending both, Brenna raised her hands with palms outward and took a step back. “Whoa, it’s okay.” She swallowed hard. “Sorry. If you want me to, I’ll just…you know, just leave.”
The nearest ravens hopped toward her, feathers puffed and beaks closed.
As they moved away from the group, Brenna captured a glimpse of what lay at the heart of the kerfuffle.
A fallen raven lay on the bank of the pond. One of its wings stuck out at an unnatural angle; the other lay spread out so that the tip dipped into the water.
Brenna frowned. She had no idea if the ravens had done that to the injured bird or if the injuries were unrelated, but either way, it was in bad shape. Birds with broken wings didn't last long. They were either soon eaten by predators or left to die from starvation. If she walked away now, the bird on the bank of the pond would die.
“Hey,” Brenna said. “I know you’re not very fond of me, but I’m not going to let that bird die. So all of you can just go away.” She waved her hands—a show of bravery that she didn’t truly feel. The birds squawked. “Go! Get out of here.”
If looks could kill, sixteen sets of eyes would have watched her leave the mortal coil.
A group of this many had the potential to kill her, or at least inflict terrible injuries if they were of a mind to do so. Ravens didn’t just scavenge and eat scraps; they were intelligent hunters who worked together. They were known to hunt and kill big animals when food was scarce.
Whether or not it was brave or foolhardy, Brenna rushed forward, swinging her arms wildly. The ravens hopped out of her way, and some flew off a short distance, but they didn’t leave. Every single one of them watched as Brenna approached the injured raven. Each of them took a step forward when Brenna knelt to check if the bird was still alive.
The injured raven’s chest rose and fell, strained. The bird locked eyes with Brenna. Could a dying bird look so defiant?
Making a soft, soothing noise, Brenna reached out to touch it. She risked being pecked or scratched to shreds by sharp talons, but she was willing to take that chance.
She laid a hand on the raven’s back.
The creature opened its beak, but it didn’t make a noise that Brenna could hear. All of the surrounding ravens ruffled their feathers and paced, but kept their distance and a surprising silence.
“Is your wing broken?” Not expecting an answer, Brenna asked it in what she hoped was a soothing, reassuring voice. She let her fingers trace along the top of the good wing, enjoying the softness of the black feathers beneath her fingertips. “This one seems okay, but the other one is all bent out of shape. What did you do?”
As if in answer, one of the ravens on the periphery cawed harshly.
Brenna grimaced. “I’m trying to help. You can keep your attitude to yourself.” She had to be crazy to talk to them like they were people. She focused on the injured bird again. “I will get you help.”
None of the birds understood her.
Brenna was pretty sure that ravens were smarter than most other birds, or other animals for that matter. They could use tools, recognize patterns, and solve simple puzzles. They learned from experience and communicated among themselves. They were known to hide and store food and steal it from each other. They mated with one partner for life.
Nevertheless, they weren’t equipped to deal with a broken wing or understand English.
A vet was the only option.
“I don’t want you to die, and it sounds like your friends don’t, too. It’s either that or they’re the worst murderers I’ve ever seen. Not that I’ve seen any murderers.”
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