Dark Pact: A Reverse Harem Fantasy Romance (Her Dark Guardians Book 1)

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Dark Pact: A Reverse Harem Fantasy Romance (Her Dark Guardians Book 1) Page 11

by Alana Serra


  “I have no problem turning my back on Aeredus,” Karak said, cutting in while Rhia was still reeling from Liam’s words. “And I agree with Rhia. You’ve been nothing but hateful this entire time. If you don’t want to be here, leave.”

  There was a growl to his voice, and Rhia snapped out of her shocked stupor as Karak moved forward, his axe retrieved from the ground. Liam’s hand twitched, but he didn’t go for his blade.

  “Liam’s right.”

  Her wide eyes turned to Wesley, the man who’d just offered his services to her, even if they’d come with hope for reciprocation.

  “Well, partially right. He could be less of an ass about it.”

  “I’m not going to sugarcoat my words just because the truth makes you uncomfortable, warlock,” Liam said in return.

  “We all do have a choice, but it’s naive to think Aeredus won’t see what we do and act accordingly. Agreeing to this means risking that chance, deciding it’s worth it. If you don’t think it’s worth it, then by all means, leave.”

  Though they approached it from different angles, Rhia was touched to know that both Wesley and Karak were willing to defend her even against something less menacing than physical violence.

  “I didn’t say that, now did I?” Liam’s hand eased again, and Karak lowered his axe to his side. After lingering on the half-orc for a moment, his gaze rested on her. “It’s a suicide mission. But I suppose I’m not doing anything better with my life. So sure, princess. I’m in.”

  Chapter 11

  After the Dark Lady—Rhia, she’d bade all of them call her—had determined their loyalties, things continued as Wesley might have expected.

  Ebonhold was further cleared of debris, thanks to his imps and some support from Liam and Karak. The task was arduous, taking several days to complete despite how quickly the imps could chew through solid stone, but once it was done, the rooms of the fortress opened up significantly, revealing old furniture that was caked in dust and spiderwebs. At one point, Wesley had even managed to reveal a massive library that was half-buried under rubble, and he’d been thinking about the wealth of knowledge that might have otherwise been lost ever since.

  It wasn’t a priority yet, as the Lady’s chambers needed to be secure, and they all needed rooms as close to hers as she would tolerate. Wesley’s was just down the hall, a small space by his own request, with a bed that could use some work and a desk that was far more to his liking, along with several bookcases he’d hopefully be able to fill from that library once they got to it.

  On the fourth day, after Rhia sent Liam out to look for a merchant who might deal in furnishings—a punishment, Wesley was fairly sure—he approached her to ask after the space. He’d not spoken with her much since her misguided speech and her assertion that she was going to break her pact with Aeredus. For his own sanity and for the sake of not starting fights the way Liam did, he’d avoided the subject, but he prepared himself for it today. There was every chance he wouldn’t be able to keep his mouth shut in her presence.

  “Rhia,” he knocked on the inside of the open door, finding her in her chambers, “do you have a moment?”

  He didn’t immediately see her, but the suite the Lady occupied was massive, spanning a bedroom, a bath, and a living area. The door only opened into the living area, and when he listened, he heard movement beyond in the bedroom.

  “Just a second,” she called from someplace distant, her voice muffled by the stones.

  He wasn’t intentionally trying to eavesdrop, but as he came closer, he heard the sound of wet feet against stone. She’d been in the bath, then. Heat suffused Wesley’s body, though he quickly scolded himself before his mind could chase those thoughts to their inevitable conclusion. He shouldn’t be thinking of her in that way. Even if it was common for Dark Ladies to… entertain interest from their guardians, Wesley had no intention of ever voicing his own.

  But it was impossible not to have any at all. Perhaps it was just the nature of the situation. He’d seen the way Karak’s and even Liam’s gaze lingered on her, the heat in their eyes, the rigid stance of their bodies as they watched her. He felt the stirrings of lust in himself, easily brought about even if he hadn’t been a guardian. Her unusual eyes—nearly violet in the right light—were captivating, and her dark hair brought them out even more. It was the curve of her body that drew his attention most, though, the clothing she’d managed to conjure from an old, enchanted armoire—a dress in either black, purple, or blue—hugging tight to her breasts, hips, and thighs.

  She was beautiful, and she was dangerous. She made him want things he had no business wanting. Not just her, but a freedom he’d long denied himself, sure it was beyond his grasp. That was why he hadn’t sought her out since that day, and why he intended to keep himself guarded if she asked about it. As guarded as he could, at least. Even without the pact, he seemed inclined to tell her more than he wanted.

  Wesley straightened in the doorway, trying to get his bearings as she approached. A useless endeavor, because she knocked him completely off-kilter the moment she appeared, her luscious body a rosy pink from the hot water, droplets still glistening on what skin wasn’t covered by the towel wrapped around her. His gaze moved slowly down her form, from the wet hair that clung to her neck and shoulders to the heat-flushed skin peeking out above the towel, down to the curve of her hips, and finally to her legs, where the towel didn’t reach.

  He could feel himself responding and couldn’t do a damn thing about it. His cock twitched in his breeches, his body’s interest clear, and suddenly his thoughts were filled with what he would do right now if she did decide to take him as a lover. He might not be as strong as Karak or Liam, but he could lift her easily. He was sure of that. He could pick her up, let the towel fall away as he held her naked, warm body against his. He’d take her back to the bedroom, lay her down on the bed, and make sure no inch of her cooled, his hands and mouth exploring her body in a languid, meandering fashion until she was panting, begging him for more.

  He could imagine her beneath him, her nipples taut, her legs spread to reveal her beautifully pink folds. His lips could latch onto one of her nipples, lick and suck while his fingers dipped into the silky wetness of her pussy, stroking her into a frenzy. And once she was ready—

  “Wesley?”

  He snapped out of those thoughts with a sudden clarity, well aware of the fact that he’d been staring. He found himself grateful for loose breeches, otherwise he would have made even more of an ass out of himself, considering his cock was painfully hard. He’d have to go back to his room later and take care of the issue, then banish the thought from his mind.

  It wasn’t going to happen. He couldn’t let it.

  “Right, sorry,” he said, clearing his throat, his voice far huskier than he intended.

  Her face was flushed in a way that had nothing to do with the heat from her bath, and it took all of Wesley’s willpower to ignore it.

  “I wanted to ask a favor.”

  “Is this the type of favor that requires me only being in a towel, or can I get dressed first?”

  Wesley nearly gaped at her. The words were spoken playfully, with a nervous lilt to them that betrayed an uncertainty, as if she were feeling out this situation as much as he was. But what they implied tugged his mind back down the path of worshiping her body in every way he could.

  “N-no, please. Get dressed.”

  As she turned away to do just that, Wesley rolled his eyes and cursed himself for a fool. Not only had he stammered, but he’d made it seem like the sight of her in a towel was somehow offensive to him. As if he didn’t want to see her like this.

  You shouldn’t, a nagging voice reminded him. There’s too much at stake for you to get caught up in a beautiful woman.

  Wesley’s resolve firmed enough to fight back some of the lust that thrummed through his veins. He’d never allowed himself to be distracted before, and he was sure he could manage this time. Even if there was something uniquely int
riguing about Rhia.

  By the time she returned to the living space, dressed in a soft robe she must have also conjured from the magical wardrobe, Wesley had a better handle over his desires. She beckoned him in and he cleared his mind of all fantasies and thoughts of what might happen were he someone else.

  “Thank you for seeing me,” he said, forcing himself to meet her gaze. “I hope I didn’t interrupt?”

  “No, I was mostly finished. I just couldn’t stand another day covered in dust.” She rubbed absently at her arm, as if clearing more of said dust away.

  Pushing past any more thoughts of the bath—and wonderings over whether it was large enough for two people—Wesley requested what he’d actually come there to request.

  “I’d like to restore the library we uncovered, with your permission. I don’t know if any of the books are salvageable, but if they are, they could be of great use to us.”

  There was some selfishness there, yes. Wesley had yet to master the spells he needed, and if he was going to find the knowledge of how to do so anywhere, it would be here. But in general, a library filled with magical tomes was one of the greatest resources a Dark Lady could claim.

  “Are they… safe? It’s not going to cause problems if we uncover something dangerous, is it?”

  Wesley’s lips quirked into a smile. All his life, he’d been around people who believed they had complete control over magic and all its trappings. It was nice to see someone who respected it—even feared it, to an extent.

  “Not if we’re careful. I can identify any cursed tomes before they’re opened, so that won’t be a problem,” he explained.

  Rhia nodded, pulling her robe more tightly closed. “Anything that can help us is a resource we need to exploit. Is this something that’s going to take time, or can I speed up the process?”

  “My imps have cleared away the debris, so it’s mostly a matter of righting the bookcases, returning the books to the shelves, and then going through them to see what’s there.”

  A process he would’ve loved in his younger years. The way Rhia’s eyes lit up told him they might have that in common.

  “I think I can manage something to help with that, if you don’t mind me flailing a little.” She gave him an almost shy smile that set Wesley’s heart to beating just a bit faster. “I’d like to get a better look at it anyway.”

  “If you’re free now, I was planning to start on it right away.”

  “Now’s as good a time as any. Better, since Liam won’t be skulking about, criticizing our every move,” she muttered.

  It was spoken in such a way that Wesley could have easily dismissed it as mere annoyance—the same kind he felt when the oathbreaker pressed his luck. But there was something beneath it that went hand in hand with that smile she’d given him.

  Something Wesley couldn’t help but try and decipher.

  “You shouldn’t let him get to you. I don’t know what his problem is, but he seems to treat everyone with the same disdain.”

  “Oh, I know. I’m guessing whatever merchant he tracks down is going to make him pay double the price, if he sells to him at all.”

  Wesley grinned a little at that, leading her down the hall toward the library. Rhia was silent for a long time. When she finally spoke again, her tone was subdued.

  “Liam’s just another person in a long string of people telling me I’m not good enough,” she said with a shrug. “At least he has the decency to say it to my face.”

  “Considering what you’ve accomplished, it sounds like none of those people were worth listening to.” A frown tugged at Wesley’s lips. “Though I know that doesn’t help.”

  He’d dealt with his own share of naysayers at the academy. Unlike the noble-born children, his talents had been subtle; even weak. He’d always had to work for everything he’d achieved.

  “It does, and it’s kind of you to say,” she turned a smile on him that Wesley instantly wanted to see again and again. “But it’s a hard thing to shake. I never knew my parents, and the people who ‘raised’ me were mainly doing it to collect a stipend from the city. They didn’t care what happened to me and they certainly didn’t care about building me up. Everything I did, I had to learn in the most backwards way possible. So I’m sure I’m not as good as others at some things.”

  They turned down a hall, and Wesley kept his opinion on that to himself. He hadn’t seen her in action beyond her magic, and any reflexive praise he heaped on her now would likely feel empty.

  “There’s no one alive who can get to a fresh loaf of bread in Toulsin’s Bakery window faster than me, though,” she said with a teasing grin.

  Wesley laughed, though the fact that she’d had to steal bread at one point tugged at his heart. As poor as his family had been, they’d never needed to steal.

  “That’s not a challenge I’d ever take. My coordination is abysmal. It’s why I studied to become a mage, not an acrobat,” he teased in return.

  It was Rhia’s turn to laugh, the sound melodic and soothing to Wesley’s ears. He wasn’t much for humor, his wit mostly focused on cleverness—in his humble opinion—but he might give it an honest go if he could make her laugh like that in the future.

  “Are there academies in the southern lands?” She was quick to dismiss her own question, shaking her head. “There must be. I’m sorry. Showing my ignorance again.”

  “I’m sure there are, but I didn’t attend an academy in the southern lands. I was sent to the academy in Platsia.”

  He shouldn’t have said it. It wasn’t exactly obscure, especially if she knew anything about academies. From the instant widening of her eyes, Wesley could see that she did.

  “The Guiding Star Academy? Only the top… what is it, five percent of students get into that place.”

  “Or the very wealthy,” he said, his mouth not managing to form the words without a grimace. When he realized the correlation, he added, “of which I wasn’t.”

  A small smile accompanied that, and he basked in the awe he saw in Rhia’s gaze. She must have had an interest in magic before her pact with Aeredus, then. No one with just a passing familiarity would be so impressed. And honestly, nor should they.

  “I can’t imagine being able to study there. You must have learned from such great minds…” She followed him into the library proper, still lost in her reaction. “I was saving before all of this. Working at a tavern to earn enough for the admission fee to an academy in Esrinas. Maybe a tenth of the prestige of the Guiding Star, but it would have been enough.”

  An uncomfortable jumble of feelings tugged at Wesley. His tendency was to have a certain amount of venom in his tone when he spoke of the Guiding Star. It’d been a placed for the privileged elite, where people like him had always been at the bottom, always reminded of their place. But Rhia was so earnest in her admiration, and she wasn’t ever going to have to deal with the truth. What was the point of telling her and crushing her spirit?

  Because that’s what the world is, he reminded himself. You couldn’t protect Emma from that, and you can’t protect Rhia, either.

  He dismissed the voice of his own warped, judgmental conscience and headed into the library proper, walking toward the largest wall of bookcases. Most of them had fallen forward, the books spilled onto the floor in a dusty heap. Some of the shelves had rotted away, some were hanging nearly free, suspended by only one beam. It was a level of disrepair that made his heart hurt.

  “You’ve mastered your magic with ease,” he said, looking back at her. “I’d say it’s clear you didn’t really need any academy. Not even Guiding Star.”

  It was a compromise that calmed the more spirited parts of him.

  Rhia scoffed. “You haven’t seen me try to fix this mess. What happened in here?”

  “Holdover from when the last Dark Lady was attacked.”

  He’d only just begun to be in Aeredus’ “employ” when the last Dark Lady took the mantle. By all accounts she’d been as stupid as she was ruthless, and her g
uardians weren’t much better. Judging from the state of this place, he couldn’t help wondering if any of them had ever set foot in this library, or if a large part of this was from disrepair that happened before the siege.

  “I thought she was killed in Esrinas?”

  Rhia wasn’t looking at him anymore. Her hands were extended, her palms beginning to glow with dark energy. It formed around one of the bookcases, engulfing it in darkness that seemed to rearrange and right everything at once, pulling the bookcase back into a standing position, fixing the broken shelves, and placing the books where they were meant to be within seconds.

  “That went better than I expected,” she said under her breath, starting the next one.

  “She managed to get away from Esrinas, though just barely,” Wesley said, watching as she effortlessly did what he could never manage. Despite his pact with Aeredus, his magic paled in comparison to hers. “She and one of her guardians limped back here. The guild tracked them down and… well, I suppose it’s obvious from there.”

  Something passed over her features that Wesley thought was strain at first, but it lingered even after she’d finished righting the next bookcase. She was silent for several minutes as she repeated the process, but he could see her growing more and more fatigued. When her arms started to shake with the effort she was exerting, Wesley reached out to her.

  “Here,” he said, taking one of her hands in his.

  The immediate jolt he felt was nearly enough to shock his heart into a stuttered rhythm. He told himself it was just what he intended to do, but he hadn’t even begun to channel energy into her yet.

  “What are you…?”

  He closed his eyes and focused, moving some of his own energy into her, pushing it from the center of his body into his arm and hand, then into hers. She gasped, a shudder passing through her. When Wesley opened his eyes again to make sure she was all right, he saw she was half-lidded, her lips parted just so. It was almost an expression of pleasure, and the soft whimper that escaped her confirmed it.

 

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