Realms and Rebels: A Paranormal and Fantasy Reverse Harem Collection

by C. M. Stunich

  I take a deep breath and look straight into his eyes. He looks confused, but there is still a trace of his former arrogance sketched on his expression.

  “Ciera?” he asks hoarsely, muddy water running down his chin.

  “The very same,” I growl. “I’m glad to find you here.”

  His eyes widen. “Are you here to rescue me?”

  He takes me by surprise, but then I laugh loudly. The coldness in my laugh must tell him all he needs to know, because he lowers his gaze and looks at the ground. Is he ashamed? Feeling guilty? I bloody hope so.

  “Why is he in this circle?” I ask the men without turning around. “Why isn’t he with the violent people?”

  Suddenly, they crowd around me.

  “What did he do?” Maro asks, his voice laced with poison.

  “Seduced my mother. Made her leave us. Beat her. Got her addicted. Made her drink herself to death. Take your pick.”

  I look at the pitiful form of Filippo, but pity is the last emotion I feel now. Hate and anger is all that I sense, and it’s taking all my strength to push them away from me. I don’t want to become like these sinners. Just because I feel angry doesn’t mean I need to act on it.

  It’s bloody hard. I never got the chance to punish him in life. Now he’s here, right in front of me, and oh how easy it would be to take one of the men’s weapons and make him suffer.

  “Wolf?” Maro asks, but it’s more of a demand. He puts his hands on my shoulders and squeezes, and I lean into his touch, drawing his strength into me.

  “With pleasure,” Plutus growls and without warning, Filippo is pulled back into the water so fast I almost miss it. He cries and shouts and claws at the ground, but he doesn’t stand a chance.

  I watch as the water devours his screams and a smile begins to form on my lips.

  It’s not a happy smile, not at all. But I can’t help it, I enjoy seeing him suffer. He hurt my mother and through that, he hurt my entire family. He tore us apart, killed her, then made my father search for a new wife, who ended up throwing me out when I was a teenager. The only good part of it all is that my stepmother had Tris. My innocent little sister, trapped in Hell.

  I get up and brush the wet dirt from my knees. “Let’s go.”

  I don’t look at my men, not wanting to know what they’ll think of me now. I don’t even know what I think of myself. Was I right to want revenge? Or should I have taken pity on him? Forgiven him?

  No, I couldn’t have. I’m not a good person, and I don’t have it in me to forgive. Not Filippo. Not Lucifer. Not the man who took my sister.

  Wait. And did I just call them ‘my’ men?

  I take a deep breath. “How do we get across?”

  Plutus turns to me and smirks.

  “We run.”

  By the time we reach the other side, I'm covered in blood, sweat and mud, and am having trouble catching my breath. The men don't look much cleaner, but they don't look exhausted at all. Maro's glow is diminishing even further, though. Should I say something? Ask if he's in pain, perhaps? If it's safe for him to continue? I don't want the angel to suffer, and now that I've somehow acquired two new companions, he could return and leave me with them.

  Not that I'd want that. Maro's presence is comforting and reassuring and... well, he's got other advantages. I lick my lips at the memory of his kiss.

  In front of us, the marshland continues, the ground swollen with thick brown water, but in the far distance, a large wall hides the horizon.

  "What's that?" I point at it and turn to the men.

  "That, Cookie, is the City of Dis."

  15

  I follow Plutus as we make our way across more marshland to the entrance to Dis. I’m tempted to ask Ceb to shift so I can rest awhile on his back, but I don’t want to appear weak. If I am to survive the descent into Hell, then I must project strength even if inside I feel tired or scared. I know I am a survivor, that I will do whatever it takes to save Tris, but I know from this point on that I must never, ever show weakness.

  Not to the people I come across in Hell.

  Not to these men surrounding me now.

  Not to the Devil.

  Not even to myself.

  “You alright there, Ciera?” Ceb asks.

  I swipe the back of my hand against my cheek, smearing blood and mud across my face. It looks as though I am going to be perpetually dirty. If I ever get to Tris… No, correction, when I get to Tris, I am going to be unrecognisable. She will scream blue murder if I turn up looking like some monster from the deeps.

  “Ciera?” Ceb prompts.

  “Good as gold,” I lie, feigning nonchalance. Both Maro and Ceb look at me with raised eyebrows. I cross my arms against my chest and glare at them both.

  “What?”

  “Need a bunk up?” Ceb asks, waggling his eyebrows.

  “No.” Yes, I think. Yes, I’m so damn tired.

  “It’s no sweat. You can lean on me.”

  “I said no.”

  “Then we rest for a bit. You’re going to need your strength for the next portion of Hell,” Maro interjects. He’s looking at me strangely, his usual bright golden eyes are more of a rusty shade of gold now. His lack of sparkle, for want of a better word, is making me anxious. That and the fact he appears to be reading my goddamn mind.

  “I don’t need to rest,” I snarl through gritted teeth before storming off to catch up with Plutus, who’s a good few hundred metres ahead of us. He doesn’t say a word as I fall into step beside him. I’m grateful for the silence.

  Shoving my hands into my jean pockets, I stare at the looming city in front of us. The walls are as high as a twenty story tower block at home, each individual stone is as large as a car. Set in a stone archway are two huge wooden doors, as tall as a house. The immense size of the place make me feel inextricably small. Along the top of the wall people move. No, not people, angels.

  “Who are they?” I ask, pointing at the topmost part of the wall.

  “Those, Cookie, are fallen angels,” Maro says, drawing up beside me.

  I look up at him. A muscle ticks in his jaw.

  “Fallen angels?”

  “Yes, you know, the ones who took Lucifer’s side,” Ceb says, shrugging his shoulders.

  “At least they chose a side,” Plutus mumbles under his breath.

  Maro glares at him.

  “You’ve not chosen a side?” I ask Maro, aghast. “But, I thought…”

  “You thought I was a servant of the big guy?”

  I’m not sure what I thought really. Frankly, until now, I hadn’t really thought about much else than getting my sister back.

  “I don’t know. Well, yes. I thought you were on the good side...” My voice trails off as he looks at me. Maybe that’s why his kiss was so sinful… he’s not as pure as I first thought.

  “Maro here sits on the fence. I’m telling you, his arse must be pretty damn sore.” Plutus smirks.

  “Shut the fuck up, Plutus. You don’t know anything,” Maro snarls. He takes a step towards Plutus, his fist curled.

  “Whoa, whoa. Let’s save the rage for when we need it to funnel it most, okay? We’ve still got to get past them,” Ceb points towards the fallen angels who have now gathered along the top of the wall. They stand watching us from their lofty position, which is kind of ironic given we’re in Hell.

  “Oh, get out of my way. I’ll deal with this lot,” Maro says, elbowing both Plutus and Ceb out of the way. I notice his feathers are looking a little dishevelled, sparse in some places.

  “Hell affects us all a little differently,” Ceb says, stepping up to me. “Because Maro is still on the fence, as Plutus put it, he will lose his strength the lower down we descend. Be prepared for the change in him. It won’t be pretty.”

  “Why doesn’t he turn back?”

  “You don’t need him anymore, is that it?” Ceb asks, his eyebrows pulling together in disappointment.

  “No, that’s not it at all. I just…” I real
ise then that I don’t want him to get sick. Not for me.

  “Just what? You care…” Ceb lets that word hang in the air between us.

  I turn to watch Maro as he addresses the fallen angels. Do I care? My eyes graze over his wings and I realise that I do, very much so.

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake, not you too. What is it about Maro? Anyone would think he’s an angel,” Plutus says rolling his eyes.

  “Well, he is,” I retort, feeling defensive.

  “Yup, whatever you say.”

  Plutus strides over to Maro and starts shouting rather loudly at them to open the gate. He’s waving his fist swearing obscenities.

  “What’s he doing? Does he want the bloody Furies to turn up?” Ceb says, slapping his beefy hand against his equally large forehead.

  “Furies? What are Furies?”

  “You’re about to find out.” Ceb points to the wall and I follow his finger. Behind the fallen angels are three giant-sized woman, as tall as the wall itself. They push the angels out of the way and climb over the wall. Maro and Plutus step back as the ground beneath us shakes.

  “Shit, how do we get past them?” I say, my mouth dropping open. Not only are the Furies giants, they are also bloody stunning. Like drop dead, knock-em-out gorgeous. Beside me, Ceb gives a low whistle.

  “Must admit, it’s been quite a while since I’ve seen these three. Forgot how hot they are. We call the red-head Phoney, the busty one in the middle is Meg and the blonde Alecto. Nice to look at, eh?”

  I glare at him. “Not particularly.”

  He just chuckles even louder.

  “Who are you?” Meg, the dark-haired Fury, booms pointing her finger at me.

  “Me?” I squeak.

  “Come here at once,” she demands. Alecto is leaning against the city wall filing her nails with a long sword. The other, Phoney (seriously, what kind of name is that) looks bored to tears.

  Ceb nudges me with his elbow. “Looks like you’re needed. If you want to get into the city, you’d better do as she asks.”

  I suck in a breath, picture Tris in my mind, and approach the Furies. I feel like a bloody pixie compared to them. One stamp of their foot and I’d be a nothing but mush.

  “Maro tells us you wish to enter the City of Dis?” Meg asks. Her voice is so loud I have to cover my ears.

  “I do. I am here to find my sister, Tris. Will you let me pass?” I say, sounding much braver than I feel. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see both Maro and Plutus looking at me agog.

  Phoney leans over and whispers something in Meg’s ear. Weirdly this time I can’t hear what she’s saying.

  “Oh, fine,” Meg snaps. In a flash of blinding light, Meg reappears in front of me. This time not much taller than I.

  What the actual fuck?

  She stalks towards me, completely ignoring the men surrounding us. “If you want to enter the City of Dis you’ll need to pass a test.”

  “What kind of test?” Maro asks.

  Meg suddenly reaches behind her head and pulls out a bow and arrow. Keeping her eyes firmly fixed on me, she points the arrow at Maro’s head.

  “I am not talking to you. Next time you open your mouth, I won’t hesitate to end your life permanently, Angel.”

  Maro has the good sense to remain quiet.

  “What must I do?” I ask. Inside I am trembling, but outwardly I’m the picture of calm.

  Meg smiles slowly, her obsidian eyes glinting with darkness.

  “Beyond the gates are the darkest parts of Hell. No one with as much light as you can pass through. You, my child, must lose some of that light.”

  “NO!” Plutus and Ceb shout at the same time. I turn to look at Maro, he catches my eye and I swear I can see a tear fall down his cheek. His eyes plead with me, but I turn away from his gaze.

  “Are you willing to make that sacrifice?” Meg asks, placing her hand on my shoulder.

  I block out the sounds of Ceb and Plutus’ protests and nod my head.

  “For Tris, I’m willing to do anything.”

  16

  Suddenly, everything around me goes black, like a curtain falling on a play that hadn’t finished yet.

  “What’s going on?” I shout, extending my arms to feel for my men. They were there, Maro on my side, the other two behind me, but all my hands meet is cool air. “Maro!”

  “Stop shouting, silly girl. They didn’t follow us here.”

  Slowly, the darkness lessens until I see the slender figure of Meg standing not far from me. I stumble towards her, not knowing whether the ground is smooth or whether I’m about to trip over some rocks. Or skulls, in the worst case scenario. This is Hell, after all.

  “Where are we?” I ask her, but she simply turns around and walks away into the darkness. I wait for a moment, hoping she’ll say something, explain what this is all about, but nothing happens.

  I sigh and run after her, towards a glimmer of light at the horizon. Is the sun about to rise? Is there a sun in Hell? Are we still in Hell?

  So many questions, and Meg doesn’t seem in the mood to divulge her secrets.

  Finally, she stops and turns. “Hurry up, we don’t have all night.”

  “Night?”

  Her eyes glitter in amusement. “Do you see daylight anywhere?”

  She waits until I’ve caught up, then hands me something. My eyes are still adjusting to the darkness, but I recognise what it is because I’ve seen it before. The bow and arrows she took from her back earlier.

  “What am I supposed to do with that?” I ask, gingerly taking the bow and slinging the small quiver over my shoulder. Not sure I’m rocking the Legolas look, but this is the first time I’ve ever handled a bow. Usually, knives are my weapon of choice. If I have to choose one, that is. In my heart, I’m a pacifist, but sadly, my heart hasn’t had much influence on what life’s thrown at me. I’ve had to use those knives to survive, and to keep my sister alive.

  The Fury chuckles as if I’ve made a joke. “Shoot, of course.” She snaps her fingers and three glowing circles appear in the distance. “Show me what you’ve got.”

  Maybe this is the point where I should tell her that I have no idea how to shoot, but I don’t want to show any weakness in front of her. If she decides that we’re not allowed into the city, it’s all been for nothing.

  I lift the bow and notch an arrow, trying to remember how I’ve seen people do it in films. They always made it look easy, but my arrow doesn’t stay where it’s supposed to and uselessly falls down to the ground. I pick it up and try again. This time, I manage to keep it on the small indentation that should steady it, but as soon as I pull the string, it falls again and I only just manage to catch it.

  Meg laughs. “You’ve never done this before, have you.”

  I don’t answer and lift the bow again, ready to prove that I’m not going to give up.

  “Stop it before you hurt yourself,” the Fury cackles and puts a hand on my shoulder. A strange kind of warmth flows into me, not quite comfortable but not painful either. The pressure of her touch slowly increases, and I try not to flinch away. What the… heavens is she doing?

  Suddenly, my mind goes blank. There’s nothing, no thought, no images.

  Silence.

  I sink into the nothingness.

  And know.

  “There you go, now you can try again.”

  Meg’s voice rips me out of the blankness and back into my body. Something’s changed. The bow feels familiar, like I’ve used it hundreds of times. I run my fingers over the feathers lining the end of the arrow. It’s like touching a friend.

  As though I’m in a trance, I lift the bow, notch the arrow, pull the string back as far as I can and release it. The arrow flies in a perfect arch, hitting the left target straight in the centre.

  The Fury claps in delight. “Well done! Now, that’s enough of me helping you. It’s time you prove that you’re worthy of ascending further into Hell.”

  I stare at the arrow that’s vibrating softly
in the target. I got it there. I managed to shoot and hit at my very first try. And inside, I know that I could do it again. I could use up all the arrows in the quiver and succeed with every one of them.

  “What did you do?”

  She shakes her head. “Don’t ask. I shouldn’t have done it, but I’m not a patient Fury. I would have probably killed you out of boredom, so don’t complain.”

  “Not complaining,” I mutter. Will this newfound skill disappear when we leave this place, or will I stay a master archer? It could be a solution to my problems. I could take part in competitions, maybe even the Olympics, and earn some money for Tris. I’d no longer have to work for Luke. We’d be able to have a normal life.

  I push those foolish thoughts from my mind. I need to focus on what’s right in front of me. Namely, the three glowing figures that have just appeared where the targets were standing before.

  “Shoot them,” Meg commands.

  She wants me to shoot people? Well, they don’t seem real. They’re too glowy and ethereal looking. They’re probably the same as the targets, just a different shape.

  I lift my bow and aim for the person on the right. It’s the biggest one, and even though I know that I could probably hit a small coin from this distance, my mind hasn’t caught up with my body’s new skills.

  The outline looks familiar, but I don’t dwell on that. It’s just a target. Just a Hell version of a cardboard cutout. I’m not actually killing anybody.

  “Don’t.” His voice makes me drop the bow in shock. Plutus. “Please, don’t do it.”

  He sounds vulnerable, almost scared. Not like I’ve ever heard him before. Granted, I’ve only known him for a few hours, but he doesn’t strike me as a person to ever sound this frightened. And that convinces me that he’s real.

  He’s not two dimensional, a picture of strength and confidence. He’s showing real emotion.

  “Shoot them,” Meg repeats.

  “Is he real?” I ask, my voice quivering despite me trying to hide my trepidation.