Realms and Rebels: A Paranormal and Fantasy Reverse Harem Collection

by C. M. Stunich

  I dried my hands on another paper towel and threw it into the trash can. Turning, I put my hand on the door handle and paused to look back at her. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter.” I put on my cattiest smile. “All three of them seem perfectly happy with the idea.”

  I left the bathroom and made my way back to the office table, my heart beating harder than it should over a single snarky exchange in the bathroom.

  Still, I didn’t like the fact that she had felt free to confront me at all. It suggested more dissension in the ranks than I had been led to expect.

  I watched for her among the crowd.

  Finally, I spotted her talking to Liam. He leaned in close, his expression intense.

  Well, that simplifies things, I thought. If Liam has a girlfriend, then he should be out of the running.

  When they headed toward me moments later, though, the woman looked chastened. Liam tugged her by the hand until they stood in front of me. “Sienna, I’d like you to meet my sister, Tara.”

  I blinked as the blonde blushed. “Nice to meet you,” she muttered.

  One look at Liam’s face told me that he knew about the confrontation in the bathroom—someone must have overheard us and reported it to him.

  “Hi, Tara,” I said gently. “Nice to meet you, too.”

  As she left a moment later, Liam took my hand and squeezed it. “Thank you,” he murmured. “She can be impetuous.”

  “It was nice of you to step in to save her.”

  He shrugged. “She loves me, and she’s worried I’ll get hurt.”

  I glanced up at his gorgeous profile. “You love her, too.”

  “Of course. She’s my sister.”

  I hoped I didn’t need that level of intervention with all the pack members before I chose a mate. But I suspected it was going to get a lot more difficult before this was over.

  8

  “Wait. You mean, I own this now?” I stared around at the luxury apartment on the eighth floor of a building on Tehama Street.

  “Technically, the pack owns it. But yeah—it’s set up for the alpha to live here,” Owen said.

  “Actually, the pack owns the whole building,” Dean added. “Most of the people who live here are pack members. Not all of them, of course. But more than enough to keep you safe while you’re here.”

  Liam moved toward the bedroom, my suitcase in hand.

  “We can move the rest of your things once the ceremony is over,” Owen said. My head spun with the suddenness of the changes in my life, but I simply nodded.

  “Who gets to spend time with you first?” Dean asked, his question sending currents of anxiety coursing through my entire body.

  “Don’t you guys have some standard way to choose these sorts of things?” I was stalling, and I knew it. I hoped they didn’t.

  I should’ve watched the Bachelorette when I had the chance.

  Returning from dropping my suitcase in my room, Liam took one look at my face and intervened. “We’ll work that out among ourselves. But one of us will be here tomorrow morning to pick you up at nine.”

  I heaved a sigh, glad to be relieved of that decision.

  The men said goodbye and filed out, leaving me in my shiny new apartment in a city I’d rarely even visited…and about to marry a man I didn’t know.

  Owen picked me up next morning—or rather, he met me in the lobby after having the doorman—or would that be door wolf? I wondered—call up to let me know he was there.

  He carried a giant bouquet of roses and a small box of chocolates.

  “Thank you,” I said, taking both gifts in my arms and then staring around helplessly.

  “You can leave them with me, ma’am, until you get back,” the doorman said. I nodded and handed over the gifts, then watched for a second longer as the doorman tucked them away somewhere behind his desk.

  “You’re a traditionalist,” I said, turning to Owen. I smiled to take any sting out of my words.

  “I guess so.” Owen jammed his hands down into his jeans pockets.

  And he is shy about it, too, I noted to myself.

  “It seems like the right thing. I mean, if I’m trying to convince you that I should be your mate, it’s the least I should do.”

  At the word mate, a shudder ran through me.

  I hadn’t slept well the night before, too nervous about what was clearly a huge decision in front of me. Not one I wanted to make, not one that I chose. One I was being forced into. But it could be worse. I could be forced to choose one of the less attractive wolves I had met the night before. Or even worse than that, I could have been forced into a fighting ring against one of those wolves.

  Or I could be back in retail trying to keep T-shirts folded.

  If I had to choose one of the wolves in my pack, why not Owen, Dean, or Liam?

  Still, the entire process made my stomach hurt.

  I shut off the feeling. I was stuck with this decision, but at least it was among three apparently nice-enough guys.

  I linked my arm through Owen’s and tugged him gently toward the front door. “Where are you taking me?”

  “I thought we might go out for breakfast and then to a movie.”

  Owen was a traditionalist in all ways, apparently.

  “Sure. Did you have a particular movie in mind?”

  “I thought I’d let you choose.” On his phone, he pulled up the showings at the nearest movie theater. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. Yep. He was a traditionalist and he was all male.

  “This one,” I said. I pointed at a new action film. “What’s not to like? A little action, probably some gunfire. Looks like it might be a good match for a…” I looked around and dropped my voice. “A werewolf.”

  Owen laughed and tilted his head in acknowledgment. “It does sound like something I’d enjoy.”

  The movie itself was unremarkable. We enjoyed it—it had all the things I had suggested as selling points.

  For me, though, the highlight of the movie was when Owen reached over and wrapped my hand in his. It sent sparks shooting up my arm and down my spine.

  Flowers, candy, a meal, and a movie—they might seem unoriginal to an outside observer. And Owen’s calm demeanor might even fool some people into believing he wasn’t particularly passionate. But all it had taken was one glance into his eyes, one touch of his hand, for me to know that he was absolutely burning underneath all that cool exterior.

  I glanced over and smiled, and he returned my look with a searing gaze of his own.

  He waited until after the movie to kiss me, and Owen’s kiss was expert. We were the last ones leaving the theater, and as we walked toward the exit in an empty hall, he placed his hands on my hips and pulled me in to him, then slid one hand up my back and the other around my waist, holding me both firmly and carefully as he teased my lips part. The longer we kissed, the more that fire within him seem to flare, burning hotter and hotter. Sliding his arm down from my waist, he hooked one of my legs up, holding it behind the knee so that it almost wrapped around him. Through his pants, I could feel how hard he’d gotten, and my nipples tightened in reaction.

  He knew exactly what he was doing, too. Sex with Owen would be amazing. At the thought of it, a tremor ran through me, and I could feel Owen smiling against my lips.

  “I think that needs to be enough for today,” he said. Gently, he placed my foot back on the ground and ran his hand up my thigh and settled it back on my waist.

  A soft, contented sigh escaped me.

  9

  When Owen dropped me off at my new apartment building, Dean was waiting in the lobby, a motorcycle helmet tucked under his arm. He wore dark jeans and a black leather jacket over the T-shirt touting a rock band I didn’t recognize.

  He looked like sex incarnate.

  Owen’s sensuality sizzled beneath the surface. Dean wore his right up top where everyone could see.

  He knew it, too. Those golden eyes of his flared with heat and he grinned as he took in my reaction to his app
earance. “Hey, baby. You ready to ride?”

  I couldn’t help but return his smile. “Do I need a helmet?”

  “I’ve got you covered.”

  He held out his hand for me to take. I wrapped my fingers around his, and his hand engulfed mine. Dean might be a little shorter than Owen or Liam, but he was still enormous compared to me.

  Outside the sun was shining brightly, glinting off the immaculate white motorcycle in front of the building. He handed me an extra helmet from a saddlebag on the side and slung one leg over to get the bike started. As I climbed up behind him, I wanted to ask where we were going, but I wasn’t sure how well he’d hear me over the roar of the bike’s motor.

  With Owen, my life would be calm and organized, and as predictable as possible, given that I lived among werewolves now and horrible things happened, like fairies exerting mind control over other pack’s members. There was something appealing about exerting some control over a life with that kind of chaos.

  Dean, however, embraced the chaos, I suspected.

  We swept up the highway, the bay glittering in the sunlight beside us. I found myself laughing aloud as the wind whipped over and around the bike. Like Owen, Dean was hot to the touch, almost burning my arm where it rested against him, even through the layers of fabric and leather.

  It must be a werewolf thing, I mused. I wonder if I will burn this hot after I can shift, too?

  I rolled my eyes. Part of me was still astounded that I could even have thoughts like that. I had clearly gone as insane as my parents.

  We pulled up in front of a street carnival, complete with rickety rides. As Dean parked the motorcycle, leaning it over on its kickstand, I took my helmet off and shook my hair out.

  “That Ferris wheel looks terrifying,” I said.

  “I think it looks like fun,” Dean said.

  And it was—Dean kissed me at the top of the wheel, his kiss hard and demanding. He pulled me up against his chest with one hand on the middle of my back, pressing me against him so I can feel free hard plane of his body. His tongue swept my mouth, pulling an almost involuntary moan from me. His heat invaded me, swirled through me, melting my muscles until it seemed as if his hands on my back and in my hair were the only things holding me upright.

  I couldn’t wait to see what Liam was going to do. I didn’t know if the three of them were sharing information in what seemed so far to be a relatively friendly competition, but it was clear to me that they were working hard outdo one another.

  I was surprised when, after a quick trip upstairs to check my makeup and hair, I went downstairs to meet him and realized that Liam had not brought any kind of vehicle. No car, no motorcycle. Not even a horse.

  Okay, so I wasn’t really expecting a horse. But at this point, and it wouldn’t surprise me if he showed up with a carriage designed to outdo his rivals.

  After all, my current situation proved that anything could happen.

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “I thought maybe we could take a walk, get to know each other a little.”

  After the elaborate dates of the previous two days, I was a little relieved to realize that Liam didn’t have anything spectacular prepared.

  “And you’re not from San Francisco, are you?” he asked.

  “Nope.” I shook my head.

  “You should see your territory, then, get a sense of the other packs the area, see what you’re going to be dealing with as alpha.”

  We walked around the SoMa district. Liam was the perfect tour guide, offering information and history. For dinner, we wandered through a park full of street food vendors, trying seafood and empanadas—and everything I didn’t finish, Liam did.

  It could be useful to have a werewolf around, I thought.

  “Have you ever ridden on a streetcar?” Liam’s voice was playful, his eyes twinkling.

  “Not since I was a kid—probably the last time my parents brought me to San Francisco.” For the first time, it occurred to me to wonder if not visiting a city that was so close to us in some ways might have been because of the werewolf issue. Apparently, my parents had made trips here every fall to be part of the convocation. But they had never actually told me that.

  At some point, I would have to deal with my anger at them for helping put me in a position of not knowing about the pack that I had belonged to all my life.

  But now wasn’t the time to worry about that. “Lead on,” I said.

  Liam took my hand and tugged me toward the streetcar. “Be ready to hop on,” he advised.

  In the end, he ended up hauling me onto the streetcar with him, both of us laughing as I fell against his chest.

  When Liam kissed me, it was soft, exploratory. He, too, burned with that werewolf heat, but he applied it carefully, his lips searching out ways to please me, finding my most sensitive spots and planting tiny kisses there. He moved up and down my neck, sending shivers all through me. When his tongue found mine, they danced as he again searched for what made me happy. He traced the shell of my ear, gently taking my earlobe between his teeth for a scant second before pulling me in closer.

  I went up to my apartment completely unsatisfied. This time, I was distraught, too—tomorrow morning I would have to choose which of these men I would take as my mate, as my co-ruler, really.

  And I had no idea how I was going to choose.

  I had less than twelve hours to make my decision.

  As I closed the door to my bedroom, considering the last three days, my stomach clenched.

  How can I possibly choose just one of them? When I’m very attracted to each of them.

  I understood exactly why my uncle Desmond had chosen these three men to be his comitatus. Owen, with his reasoned rationality, able to think through problems and come up with solutions quickly and calmly. Dean, with his wry sense of humor, his ability to find the humor in everything, to lighten the darkest situations. And Liam, with his kind heart, and his compassion for everyone.

  Owen would bring order and precision. Dean would bring humor and passion—out of the bedroom as well as in. And Liam would give me gentle kindness and tranquility.

  And the sex with any of them would be astounding.

  How can I possibly give up any of that?

  Together, they made the perfect man.

  I snickered to myself. Somehow, I didn’t think werewolves were all that good at sharing.

  I slipped between the sheets of the bed in this still unfamiliar room, and then tossed and turned. My body ached with unfulfilled desire. I knew no matter which of the men I chose, part of me would long for the other two.

  I finally fell into a fitful sleep well after midnight. I had come to no conclusions, but I hoped my subconscious would offer a solution before the morning.

  Fairies are quiet. I don’t know what woke me. Maybe the click of the door closing, or the soft tread of a footstep on the floor. Nothing loud enough to wake me on any normal night.

  I knew even as I sat up that there was someone else in the room with me.

  I barely had enough time to gasp before a hand came down over my mouth, stopping my scream. I twisted and kicked out, determined to get away, but the cold metal of a needle pricking my upper arm stopped me.

  Everything got fuzzy around the edges, the black of night closing in, becoming an even deeper darkness as I fell back against the pillows and my consciousness slipped away.

  10

  I awoke to the cold taste of metal in my mouth. Everything was still a blur, and I blinked, trying to figure out where I was.

  When I tried to move, my arms were constricted. I was bound hand and foot to a chair. Something heavy draped across my shoulders. As I wiggled, trying to get out of it, it clinked.

  A metal chain of some kind? Why did someone bother to tie me up with ropes and a chain?

  A voice behind me said, “Don’t even try. You’ll hurt yourself.

  I craned my head around as far as I could and caught a glimpse of a tall, slender man. He wor
e jeans and a gray T-shirt, but something about him was… off.

  He doesn’t look entirely human.

  “I’m guessing you’re one of the fairies?” I was proud of how steady my voice stayed, despite the fear that had swept through me at the realization.

  “You’re smarter than you look.” The fairy strolled around to stand in front of me. “You’re not much of a replacement for Desmond, are you?”

  I didn’t know what to say to that, so I opted for silence.

  As I examined the room surrounding me, the terror clenching my stomach only grew. From what I could see outside the single window, I was in a basement. There were bars over the only exits—bars on the door, bars over the window, a fairy guarding me, and ropes and chains binding me.

  I glanced back at the fairy, who was watching my inventory with a vicious smile.

  “Not much work with, is there?” he sneered.

  “Seems like a bit of overkill,” I observed.

  “Still, those chains must hurt,” he said.

  I tried not to let my confusion show. Why would the chains hurt me? I mean, they were a little heavy, but they weren’t particularly tight. I wasn’t sure the ropes were tied all that well, either. The fairy hadn’t really done great a job of restraining me—though probably the bars on the window and door would aid in keeping me here.

  If only I could find some way to use the chains to my advantage.

  “You are a cool one, though,” the fairy said. “Maybe Desmond’s choice wasn’t entirely stupid.” He crossed his arms and rested his chin on one fist. Tapping his lips with his forefinger, he mused, “Those hotheaded advisors of his could use a little wisdom.” He grinned evilly. “Maybe a little cooling down. I think a good shot of winter ought to do that.”

  Winter. He was a fairy from the Winter Court. I wished I had asked my comitatus for more information about the winter fairies.

  Maybe somehow that information could help me, anyway.