Realms and Rebels: A Paranormal and Fantasy Reverse Harem Collection

by C. M. Stunich

  “You know the Dark Woods well enough, Ciera.”

  “What are you talking about? I’ve never stepped out of this city, let alone visited the countryside. There are no woods around here…”

  Noella cocks her head to one side, then widens her arms. “Is that so? You know this city better than anyone. Don’t tell me you’ve never come across the Dark Woods before?” She stares at me, waiting.

  Realisation dawns, thwacking me over the head. “You can’t mean the old pub on Wood street? The one with the blackened windows, filled with reprobates and surrounded by dead trees and iron railings?”

  “The one and only.”

  “Shit.” I’ve heard the rumours about that place, about who lurks inside.

  “I’ve never entered it personally. Not a place I ever wish to set foot in. I’m sorry you have to go there. But, my child, there is a light beyond the darkened windows. Seek it out. It’s the only way.”

  Noella touches my arm briefly.

  “Thank you,” I whisper.

  “It will be arduous. You will be tested, Ciera.”

  “You sound like you know something more.”

  “I know enough, but this is not my journey. This is yours. If I am to give you one piece of advice, it would be this. There is light in the darkest of hearts, as there is dark in the purest of souls. Not everything is as it seems. Be safe, Ciera.” With that, Noella turns and leaves the room before I am able to question her further.

  It takes me almost two hours to reach the ramshackle pub on Wood Street. It’s nearing midnight by the time I approach the iron gates surrounding the building. The trunks of dead trees curl upwards from the ground, like rotten teeth protruding from blackened gums. There are no signs of life within the hollowed out and twisted trunks. The street itself is deathly quiet. Even the pub seems unusually tranquil. No, tranquil is not the right word.

  This place is no more tranquil than the shelter I live in. This kind of silence should be feared.

  My eyes take in the darkened windows, the red-brick turned black by pollution and years of grime from the car exhausts polluting the city air.

  Perhaps it’s closed.

  I hesitate, not certain whether to enter. My hand is holding onto the iron railing. Part of me wants to run away, the other is determined to find my sister. I close my eyes and draw in a long breath. Noella’s voice echoing in my head.

  “You gonna stand there all night or are ya gonna come in?” A gravelly female voice says from the darkness. I snatch my hand away from the railing as a woman dressed in a long fur coat steps out from behind one of the trees. She has highlighted blonde hair piled up on top of her head in a loose bun. Her face is painted with thick makeup, red lipstick bleeds into the wrinkled skin about her mouth as she pulls on a cigarette. She’s probably only in her late thirties; time hasn’t treated her well.

  “Is this the Dark Woods?” I ask, trying to bide some time.

  The woman laughs. Actually, it’s more of a cackle than a laugh.

  “Does this look like woods to you?”

  “No, but…”

  “This is a pub, love. Booze is consumed, drugs too if that’s what you’re after. There are also many other things you can find beyond those doors. Perhaps you’d like a little company, hmm?” she asks me.

  I watch as her hand reaches down to the front of her fur coat. She slides her fingers along the join, unbuttoning it. Beneath she is wearing a leather mini-skirt, stockings and a lace bra.

  I raise my eyebrows. “No, thanks. I’m here for something else.”

  “Then you’d better come in, hadn’t you? That something else ain’t gonna be found out there on the street now, is it?” She winks, then places the cigarette back in her mouth but not before she runs her tongue over her crimson lip.

  Yanking open the gate, I step onto the path on the other side. The woman leans against a tree watching me.

  “No, no it won’t,” I say. Tris’s face fills my thoughts and I grit my teeth. If she’s beyond those doors, then that’s where I need to be and nothing and no one is going to stop me from finding her.

  “I’m Tala by the way.”

  I nod my head as I walk past her. “Nice to meet you, Tala,” I say politely.

  She laughs again. “Many people have said many things after meeting me, nice has never been one of them.” She reaches out her hand and grips hold of my arm tightly. “I am always on the hunt for my next… client. You’d be wise not to cross paths with me again, pretty one. I may not be so nice, next time.”

  I yank my arm away, narrowing my eyes at her. “Me neither,” I growl. Luke’s knife burns a hole in my back pocket.

  A slow smile pulls up her lips, respect lighting her golden eyes. She doesn’t respond, simply nods her head and steps back into the shadows.

  Shaken but not scared, I make my way to the door of the pub. Now that I am closer I can hear life beyond the closed doors. With one last look over my shoulder, I push open the door and step inside.

  2

  Darkness greets me, slowly giving way to dim light and heavy clouds of smoke. Have these people not heard of the smoking ban yet? I stifle a cough and make my way further into the room, past men and women hugging their glasses or hugging each other. I don't have much experience with pubs; I don't have the money to go drinking. But somehow, I doubt that all pubs come with this much indecency.

  A large man steps into my way and I almost bump into his wide belly. I assume he's just a drunken patron and turn to walk around him, but he suddenly grips my arms and holds me in place.

  "Don't touch me," I hiss, fighting against his grip. He doesn't budge, so I do what every self-respecting girl would: I knee him in the balls. Finally, he lets go of me, clutching his crotch, and I step around him, hoping he won't follow me.

  "Good hit, miss," another man whispers from my side, his smelly breath hitting my nostrils. "Want to do the same to me? I like a bit of pain."

  I shudder in disgust and hurry towards the bar. It's just as dark and run-down as the rest of this place, but at least it seems safer than staying in the middle of the room.

  "Yeaaah?" a woman drawls in a deep, almost masculine voice. It takes me a moment to notice that she's the bartender and that she's talking to me.

  Shit, I don't have any money.

  "I'm looking for someone," I begin, not quite sure how to spin this. I can't really ask her for 'the light', can I. Now that I'm here, this seems like a terrible idea. Maybe Noella was just talking nonsense.

  "Aren't we all," the woman grins, exposing some very yellow teeth. "Now, what do ya want to drink?"

  "Give her a pint on me," a man next to me says. I look up at him, having to crane my neck because he's incredibly tall. Seven foot at least, I'd say, or even more. His shaggy beard hides half of his face, but seeing his cold eyes is enough to show me that I really don't want anything to do with him.

  "No thanks," I say quickly before the bartender can make me that drink. "I'm meeting someone."

  "Am I not good enough for ya?" the man growls and puts an arm around my shoulders.

  Enough is enough. I elbow him in the chest and run for it, out of the pub and into the night, ignoring the jeering drunkards who I've just provided the evening's entertainment for.

  I stop just outside the pub and breathe in deep. The cool air helps to clear my mind a little, and my lungs are in sore need of oxygen after all the smoke inside.

  What am I going to do now? That place really doesn't look like I'd find any answers in there. If any of the patrons have ever had any dealings with Luke, they would have been working for him, not against him.

  'The light within the Dark Woods'. She definitely said within, didn't she. That would mean inside that pub. I sigh. There seems no way around another trip inside. Maybe I'm too early, maybe there will be other people there in a few hours.

  I look up and down the street. Everything is quiet, the pub is the only source of noise. How do people sleep here knowing that these unsavoury
characters are drinking next door? I really wouldn't want to live here, and that says a lot coming from someone currently calling a shelter her home.

  I decide to walk around the pub, maybe there's a bench somewhere that I can sit on while waiting. I really don't want to stand here close to the entrance where people like the aggressive men inside will pass.

  There's a simple iron gate to my right, looking like it may lead to a garden. It's unlocked and I take that as a sign to enter. The alleyway is dark and grimy, just like the rest of this area, but I still have hope that there may be a safer spot around the corner.

  Just like I thought, there's a garden at the back of the pub, but it's just as desolate and dead as the trees in the street. Only gravel covers the ground, not a single leaf or blade of grass. The tree in the far corner looks like a dark skeleton against the night sky, it's whitish bark glowing ominously. No, this doesn't seem like a safe place at all.

  I'm about to head back when a light suddenly appears at the other end of garden. There's a shed that I didn't see before, but now that someone has switched on the light inside, it's clearly visible. It's quite big, more than just a shed to store your tools, almost a small house.

  Something makes me walk towards it; maybe it's curiosity, maybe more.

  There are two windows, one on either side of the small wooden door. The left one is hidden behind old-fashioned shutters, so I sneak towards the one on the right, careful to stay in the shadows.

  The light inside flickers as if it's candlelight rather than a lamp. Maybe there's no electricity in the shed?

  I take off my backpack and pull out my knife and its sheath. The sheath is nothing more than several pairs of socks sewn together and attached to a belt, but it works. I wrap it around my waist, just to be sure. Who knows what awaits me here. I didn’t want to have the knife out in the open when I was exploring the pub, but now I’m on my own in the darkness and things have changed.

  I crouch when I reach the window, keeping my head below the sill. Why am I even doing this, sneaking around like a criminal. I have no business being here, and I'm supposed to explore the pub, not the outbuildings.

  "You can come in," a hoarse voice suddenly says above me at the same time as the window opens with a creak.

  I jump back in surprise and fall flat on my arse, the gravel poking uncomfortably through my jeans. Now would be a good time to run and pretend that I wasn’t here. Whoever lives in the backyard of this dingy pub can’t be a good person to meet in the dark.

  But then I look up and straight into his eyes… They are golden. Not light brown, not amber, but pure gold, with a thin circle of silver lining his light pupils. Not even those are the right colours, they’re far too bright.

  Before I even look at the rest of the man’s face, I’m convinced that he isn’t human.

  A few months ago, this would have shocked me, but I’ve been hanging out with Luke and his crowd for long enough to figure out that humans aren’t alone in this world. I’ve never had the chance or the confidence to ask what they all are, but their supernatural strength is enough to tell me that they aren’t like me. Luke of course is the devil, Lucifer, although he hates being called that name. The only thing that gives away his non-humanity are his red-rimmed eyes, but it’s not the same for the man in front of him.

  His entire skin is glowing. Without the golden glow, he’d probably be pale, but the shine hides his true skin colour and any impurities there might be. His lips are curved in a small smile, his white teeth the only non-golden part of him. How does he walk around town looking like this? No wonder he’s hiding in a shed in the worst part of town where outcasts and misfits blend in. Not that he’d ever blend in.

  I’m so mesmerised by his eyes and his glow that it takes me a moment to notice that he’s talking to me.

  “Do you enjoy sitting on the floor?”

  He grins, flashing his sparkling white teeth at me.

  “No? Then you better come in.”

  He leans out of the window, reaching out for me with one hand.

  Last chance to run, Ciera, a voice in my head tells me, but I ignore it. I’m not going to run if this might be a chance to save my sister.

  I take his hand, expecting him to pull me up so I can walk through the door, but he has other ideas. One second I’m outside in the backyard, the next, I’m flying through the window head-first before landing against his chest. He’s warm, I can feel his heat even through my clothes. His chest is hard with muscle, but not uncomfortable.

  What the fuck? Did he just pull me through a window with enough force to prevent me from crashing against the window frame? And why am I still in his arms?

  I hastily step back, ignoring how cold I suddenly feel, bereft of his warmth.

  “Who are you?” I ask hastily, both to break the silence and to feel a little less awkward.

  “They call me Maro,” he says in a soft but deep voice.

  “And what do you call yourself?”

  “Maro.” He chuckles. “Are you one of those people who take everything literally?”

  I shrug. “Occasionally. What are you doing here?”

  His grin grows wider. “You sneak around my house and then ask me what I’m doing here?”

  I’m grasping for a snarky answer but my mind is going blank. His glow is too much, I can’t focus. How can I think when I’m looking at the most gorgeous and unusual man I’ve ever seen?

  I decide not to look at him again, instead, I inspect the rough wooden floor.

  “I’m looking for someone,” I say, determinedly not lifting my gaze. “Or something, maybe. Ehm…” I take a deep breath. “Do you know someone called Luke?”

  Suddenly, I’m slammed against the wall behind me, something sharp pressing against my throat. Maro’s face is inches away from my own, his eyes suddenly burning with molten gold. He’s no longer smiling at me.

  “Do you work for him?” he growls, the softness in his voice gone.

  I try and look down to see what he’s holding against my throat, but I’m scared he might cut me if I move too much.

  “No,” I reply steadily, hoping he won’t spot the lie. It’s not like I’m working for Luke voluntarily. Signing the contract with him was the only way for me and my sister to survive. It got us a permanent place in the shelter, food and enough money to occasionally buy some clothes or other necessary things for Tris. He even threw in a bus pass so I could get to my assignments without having to walk through the entire city.

  “Interesting,” he mutters, still not letting me go. “You’re lying but you’re not. Explain.”

  To emphasise his command, the pain on my throat increases. I’m breathing shallowly now, trying not to move my neck.

  “It’s not by choice,” I reply through clenched teeth. “Let me go and I’ll tell you.”

  His eyes stay fixed on mine, burning into my mind. The intensity of his gaze is making me dizzy, but I can’t even seem to blink, let alone close my eyes.

  Finally, he seems satisfied and steps back, releasing me, and I get to see what was pressed against my throat.

  Fuck.

  He’s got bloody wings.

  3

  “What the hell are those?” I say pointing to what are very clearly a pair of white, sodding wings.

  “I would have thought that was pretty obvious. Perhaps you’re a little dazed by my good looks?” He smirks, folding his arms across his chest.

  “Ha, not likely,” I retort. Arrogant as well as good looking then. That’s the worst kind of combination, in my opinion.

  Maro laughs, the fierceness gone as quickly as it had appeared. I watch as the offending wings fold neatly away behind his back. At the bottom of one wing, I notice a drop of blood slide down the edge of a feather and fall to the wooden floor. Lifting my fingers to my neck, a warm wetness slides over my skin. Pulling my hand away I see my own blood glistening in the light, his light, I might add. He’s like a bloody lightbulb.

  “You cut me!”


  He glances at my fingers, then at my neck and shrugs. “It’s not a very deep cut. I just needed to check if your blood runs pure. Or, at least as pure as it can be under the circumstances. ”

  “What? Why?”

  “You work for Lucifer.”

  “I don’t work for him. I just …”

  “You just what?” He narrows his eyes at me, the brilliant gold of them sparking like fireflies in the night. “Don’t tell me, you sold your soul for more riches than you can imagine.”

  “I…”

  “No, wait. I know, you sold your soul for everlasting beauty!” he scoffs, stalking towards me again. I am forced back against the wall once more as he rests the palms of his hands on either side of my head, and damn it if my heart doesn’t just about beat out of my chest.

  “That’s not what…” I protest, but he lifts his finger and presses it against my lips. Leaning down, his golden hair falling forward over his eyes, Maro studies me close up.

  “Ivory skin, check. White-blonde hair, check. A lithe, but shapely body, check. Pretty blue eyes, no, wait,” he says, tipping his head to the side, his eyebrows pulling together in concentration. “Grey, with a hint of steel.”

  “Gold, with a hint of fire,” I murmur back.

  For a moment we stare at each other, caught in some kind of invisible pull. If my heart was galloping before, it’s thundering now. Frankly, I am not even sure I can remain upright, given my knees have decided to go weak on me. Then the sound of laughter coming from the pub pulls me out from under his spell and I remember why I came here.

  “Tris!”

  Maro steps back and gives his head a shake as though he too was just as mesmerised as I was.

  “I didn’t sell my soul for money, or beauty. I sold it for my sister, for Tris. To keep a roof over her head, food in her belly, a warm bed at night. I did it to keep her safe.” I laugh bitterly, dragging the sleeve of my jumper against my neck. “Fat lot of good it did her. Tris is far from safe, now he has her.”