Realms and Rebels: A Paranormal and Fantasy Reverse Harem Collection

by C. M. Stunich

  Go home, he snarls, just before I feel myself fall, my spirit slamming into my body. For the briefest of moments, I can see Kumo looking down at me with violet eyes the same color as my own. It doesn’t last though because I’m falling again, slipping right through her arms and into the ground. Falling, falling, falling.

  Another scream tears from my throat as I flail, searching for purchase. My stomach is in my throat, and adrenaline courses through my veins in a hot, steady stream. All I want is for this to stop, to feel solid ground again, even if it means my own death. The sensation of plummeting downward is almost too much for my psyche to bear.

  With a grunt, I feel myself hit the bed in my apartment. As far and as fast as I fell, I should be dead. I should’ve broken the bed and gone straight through the floor until I was nothing but a mess of broken bones buried under rubble.

  Instead, I bounce off like I’ve hit a trampoline, and land on the white-washed pine floors of my bedroom with a groan.

  The place is a mess, the blankets and pillows shredded and tossed in a heap in the corner, the nightstand drawer cracked in half with its contents in a messy pile. There’s broken glass everywhere, cutting into my hands as I force myself up to my knees.

  I’m nauseous as hell, my stomach in my throat, my lungs flattened to pancakes. It feels like I might never take another breath.

  “What the fuck?” I choke out, my throat raspy and sore from screaming. I put my hand to my neck, feeling tiny droplets of blood from the bits of broken glass in my skin. As I sit there, trying to pick them out, my mind races. I can’t figure out if I’m dreaming now … or if I’ve just woken up from a dream. Both possibilities feel equally likely.

  Jensen sent us back, a familiar voice whispers in my mind.

  It’s Kumo.

  Energy surges through me, and I find myself rising to my feet–not of my own accord either. Kumo manages to get us standing upright, even as I hear the sound of the front door opening, Daniel’s voice echoing throughout the apartment as he calls my name.

  Why would he send us back? I ask, projecting my thought and hoping Kumo can hear it.

  He wishes to protect you, she says, pausing and turning our head toward the windowsill at the sound of pattering footsteps. My heart races, and I feel my fists clenching tight as I expect a creeper to come around the corner.

  Instead, it’s just my cat.

  Her sleek black fur catches the light as she stares at me, back arched and fur raised in alarm. Her blue eyes catch the light, looking for a moment like they might be as purple as my own.

  “We have to get out of here,” she says, shocking the shit out of me.

  My cat … can fucking talk?!

  “There’s a horde on its way, and you don’t want to know what they’ll do if they catch us.” Mahou shakes herself out, leaping from the windowsill to perch on my shoulder. Meanwhile, I’m just standing there in shock, wondering what the fuck my life has become and if I almost like it. Unfortunately, there’s still a part of me that’s trying to decide if I should go for those bottles of pills in the bathroom vanity.

  The door opens behind me, and I hear Daniel’s sharp intake of breath.

  “Rayne?” he asks, just before Kumo pushes a pair of wings out of my back, gathers up Mahou in her arms, and leaps out the window of the twenty-seventh floor of my apartment.

  The sound of my scream is half-joy and half-fear.

  A dichotomy of emotions that I’m sure will haunt me for months–or even years–to come.

  That is, if I live long enough to figure them out.

  In the distance, a swarm of demons makes their way toward us, like a sea of locusts that blot out the sun.

  We are so fucking screwed.

  Always, always, always the only thing I’ve ever wanted was to live. Strangely enough, that’s more true now than ever before.

  I know in my heart that I need to find my three knights again, before somebody else does.

  Or something else finds me.

  A haunting scream echoes from the city below me, chilling me to the bone, and spurring us to move faster, harder.

  Three knights, one girl, one destiny.

  I just want to live long enough to see it fulfilled.

  C.M. Stunich

  https://www.cmstunich.com/

  About the Author

  C.M. Stunich is a self-admitted bibliophile with a love for exotic teas and a whole host of characters who live full time inside the strange, swirling vortex of her thoughts. Some folks might call this crazy, but Caitlin Morgan doesn't mind - especially considering she has to write biographies in the third person. Oh, and half the host of characters in her head are searing hot bad boys with dirty mouths and skillful hands (among other things). If being crazy means hanging out with them everyday, C.M. has decided to have herself committed.

  Light The Fire

  A Her Elemental Dragons Prequel

  Elizabeth Briggs

  Light The Fire

  A Her Elemental Dragons Prequel

  The Fire God demands I become his Priestess…and take four mates.

  I’ve secretly loved my four best friends ever since we were kids playing in the village together, but I can’t have them all—and there’s no way I can choose only one.

  Blane, the town’s resident bad boy who I can’t seem to resist. Roth, the scarred hero who once broke my heart. Derel, the infuriatingly sexy man I’ve been betrothed to my entire life. And Falon, my best friend, who has never seen me as more…or has he?

  When the Fire God chooses me to be his High Priestess, he demands I take four men to be my mates. Maybe I don’t have to choose after all…

  But will the men agree to give up everything to join me at the Fire Temple? And if they do, what challenges will we face once we arrive there?

  1

  The giant brazier flared bright, beckoning me closer. I picked up a scrap of bark and a pointed piece of obsidian from the nearby pile as I considered the flickering flames, along with my future. While a man beside me debated what to write with a frown, I quickly carved my wish on the tiny bit of wood. When I was finished, I read the words once before sending the bark into the fire, where it blackened and curled almost immediately and soon turned to ash and flame. As the Fire God accepted my offering I bowed low and said a small prayer that he’d grant my wish and give me guidance, before I turned back to the celebration. Not that I expected him to answer, of course. But it was tradition.

  The center of Sparkport was packed tonight with nearly everyone in the village crammed into its town square. Torches lit up the darkness, adults made wishes at the brazier, and children pranced across the dirt road flying red dragon kites in the air. Fire dancers performed on a stage nearby, their flames leaving trails of light as they moved in time to the lively music. I moved through the crowd toward one of merchant stalls lining the road, brushing past people in their finest clothes who were dancing together or eating special treats.

  The Fire Festival was one of the five celebrations in honor of the Gods and the Dragons, and here in the Fire Realm it was the biggest holiday of the year. My family had been preparing our bakery’s stall for weeks, while my sisters and I had spent months sewing our gowns. Mine was a flame red dress with a black lace trim that hugged my body in a way that turned a few heads. An obsidian pendant that belonged to my mother rested between my full breasts, and my blond hair had been tied up with red and black ribbon, though some wispy hairs had already escaped it.

  I approached my family’s stall with its familiar scent of warm bread and baked sugar. My mother stood inside it offering one of our signature mini volcano cakes to a child and her father. My older sister Krea was putting out more chocolate-coated flame cookies, while our youngest sister Loka was sneaking one of the fried crab cakes into her mouth. I arched an eyebrow at her and she wiped her mouth with an impish grin.

  “Welcome back, Calla,” Mom said with a smile. “Did you make a wish?”

  “I did. Has it been busy?” I aske
d, as I stepped behind the stall to join them.

  "Very," Mom said. "We're going to run out of those volcano cakes before midnight at this rate."

  "All because of Krea’s hard work,” I said with a smile.

  "Thank you,” my older sister replied, ducking her head so her pale hair partially covered her face. “I had no idea they'd be so popular."

  Krea was the one who had come up with the design for the tiny domed chocolate cakes filled with strawberry cream, then topped them with frosting to look like lava. She had true artistic talent, while Loka prided herself on finding the most delicious combinations of food--usually by tasting them herself. Together they would make my mother proud when they took over the bakery. And me? I could bake, certainly, but I didn't have the talent for making pastries beautiful like Krea, and I didn't have the knack for coming up with new recipes like Loka. I'd likely find myself serving customers in the front of the shop my entire life—or I’d passed off to help my future husband with whatever his trade was.

  I wished I had a talent like my sisters, but so far nothing had emerged. I was passably good at many things—sewing, baking, candle making—but an expert in none. Instead I preferred to spend my time reading, but books were in short supply in a small town like Sparkport, and scholars were not exactly in demand here either. I had no idea what my future would hold, but now that I was twenty years old, I supposed it was time it got started.

  As I idly rearranged the boring cheese pastries I'd made—which no one was buying, since they could get them every day in the shop—a loud rumble sounded in the distance from the nearby volcano, Valefire. A moment later the earth trembled under our feet and the crowd murmured and paused until the ground stilled once more. After a few tense seconds, the music started up again and the festival continued on, as if nothing had happened.

  "Another earthquake?" I asked, glancing at the tall, flat-topped mountain with its black slopes. Our town was situated in the shadow of Valefire, where the Fire God’s temple stood. We’d always respected the volcano, knowing it could awaken at any time, but none of us truly believed it would. Until last month, when the earthquakes had started to increase in frequency and strength.

  "It's simply the Fire God showing his approval for the festival," Mom said.

  Loka rolled her eyes. "The Fire God hasn't been seen for hundreds of years."

  My mother clucked her tongue. "And this is his way of reminding us he's still watching over us, even if we've forgotten him and abandoned his temple. This is why we must celebrate him on holidays like this."

  "And pray the volcano stays dormant," I muttered.

  "The volcano hasn't erupted in many lifetimes," Mom said, waving our concerns away. "We’ve always had earthquakes here in Sparkport. There's nothing to be worried about. In fact, you should all go enjoy the festival tonight. I can handle the stall by myself."

  "Are you sure?" Krea asked.

  "Yes. You’ll make me happy by having fun tonight. The Fire Festival is for the young." She shooed Krea and Loka away with a smile. Loka skipped off immediately with a squeal, while Krea hesitated until her betrothed caught her eye and gestured for her to dance with him.

  "I'll stay," I said, as Krea slipped away into the crowd.

  Mom patted my arm. "That's kind of you, but you should dance too. Derel looks like he could use a break as well."

  I followed her gaze to the stall across from ours, run by the local butcher. Mom waved her hand at Sucy, the wife of the butcher and my mother's best friend. Her son, Derel, stood behind the beef kabobs, lemon shrimp, and meatballs they were selling, which I had to admit looked delicious. Behind him, Derel’s father tended a large pig roasting on a spit, which would be served at the end of the festival to the entire village. We had a giant volcano cake prepared to go with it, filled with strawberries and cream.

  Derel’s head turned toward me and he caught me looking at him. I quickly looked away and busied myself in the back of the stall, but the damage was done. It didn’t help that Derel was distractingly handsome either, even if I hated to admit it. He had the rich dark skin of his grandparents, who’d moved here from the Earth Realm, with deep brown eyes and gorgeous full lips. Not that I’d spent time much staring at his lips before. Definitely not.

  My mother nudged me with her elbow. "Go on, dance with him."

  I groaned. "Do I have to?"

  "Yes, you do.” She clasped her hands together. “I do wish the two of you would get married already. It's all been planned out for you for years!"

  "Yes, that's the problem."

  "You’re lucky. When I was younger I thought I’d never find a husband in this tiny village. If your father hadn't moved to town I'd probably still be alone. I tried to make it easier on you and your sisters by promising you to others as children. Krea and Parin will soon be married. Next it should be you and Derel."

  I rolled my eyes. "I doubt Loka will want to marry the man you chose for her."

  "Well, I had no idea she'd prefer women, or I’d have chosen her a nice wife.” She suddenly straightened up. “Oh, here he comes. Be nice." She shuffled away and busied herself at the stall next to ours by offering the chandler some cookies, leaving me to face Derel alone.

  As he approached I felt a sense of dread, but also excitement. The Fire Festival made the night feel like anything was possible, even something magical. Like me and Derel getting along for five minutes.

  "Care to dance?" he asked in the least convincing voice ever.

  I gave him a sickly sweet smile. "With you? Not really."

  "Trust me, I’m only here because my mother insisted."

  I glanced at my own mother, who gave me a big smile and nodded eagerly. I could practically see visions of dark-skinned grandchildren dancing through her head. "Fine, I’ll dance with you. Only because my mother will never stop pestering me until I do."

  He took my hand in his strong grip and led me out into the square to join the other dancing couples. This dance was an upbeat one and we switched off clasping hands and spinning and twirling, until my heart beat fast and I was almost—almost—having a good time with Derel. It didn’t hurt that he was an excellent dancer either.

  When the music slowed he clasped my hand and pulled me close against his toned body. "Is your mother pressing you to get married like mine is?"

  "Always." Though arranged marriages had fallen out of fashion generations ago—much to my mother’s dismay—from the time Derel and I were born we’d been promised to each other, whether we liked it or not. And trust me, we did not. The worst part was that if we hadn’t been forced together at every opportunity and told how perfect we were for each other, maybe we would have gotten along and fallen in love in our own time. Now we would never know.

  "Maybe we should just do it already to get them off our backs,” he said, as his hand slowly smoothed down my back.

  I let out a sharp laugh to hide how shocked I was at his words, and how much I didn't hate the idea when it came from him. Too bad I knew he wasn’t serious. How could he be? We hated each other—always had, always would. "Is that your version of a romantic proposal?"

  "I’m going for practical, not romantic. But if romance is what you want..." His smoldering eyes met mine in a way that made my breath catch, especially as he pulled me tighter against him. My gaze dropped to his sensual mouth and I thought, not for the first time, what it would be like to kiss him. As his fingers curled around my chin and he looked at me in the same way, I knew he was thinking about it too.

  I shook my head to break the spell he’d cast over me. "Definitely not. I’m never going to marry you."

  Was that disappointment flashing across his face before returning to his normal, disinterested look? Surely not. "Probably for the best. We’d break poor Falon’s heart."

  "Falon?" I laughed. "Only because you’d spend less time with him if you were married."

  He gave me a look dripping with disdain. "If that’s what you think then you’re more clueless than I thought.”r />
  My smile fell. "What is that supposed to mean?"

  “Nothing.” Derel shook his head.

  Was he suggesting Falon had feelings for me? Because that was certainly news to me. Falon was our best friend, the one thing in common we had besides our parents, but he’d never been anything more—much to my dismay.

  “This dress you have on is quite alluring,” Derel said. “Are you sure you’re not looking for a proposal tonight?”

  “Maybe I am, but not from you.” Of course, none of the men I wanted would propose to me tonight, so it didn’t really matter. But I definitely hadn’t worn this for Derel, of all people. “What did you mean about Falon?”

  He idly touched the lace at my neck. “The quality is quite fine. Let me guess, Krea made it?”

  “No, I did.” I shoved against his chest, stepping away from him. I knew he was purposefully baiting me to change the subject, but he always knew exactly how to get under my skin and I couldn’t help but respond. “Why are you always so impossible?”

  His lips quirked up in a wry smile. “You just bring out that side of me, I suppose.”

  2

  When the song ended, Derel took my hand and led me over to Falon, who sipped something hot and steamy from a metal cup. Falon was just as handsome as Derel but in an entirely different way. Where Derel was lithe and toned, Falon was broad and muscular. While Derel was dark, Falon was bright. When Derel was rude, Falon was kind.

  "It's your turn," Derel said to Falon. "I'm done dancing with her."

  "And so gracious about it," I muttered.

  "Don't pretend you didn't enjoy it." He gave me one last smoldering look before stalking back to his parents' stall.

  "Shall we dance?" Falen asked with a smile, offering me his hand.