A Court of Fire and Metal: a Reverse Harem Fantasy Romance (War of the Gods Book 2)

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A Court of Fire and Metal: a Reverse Harem Fantasy Romance (War of the Gods Book 2) Page 5

by Meg Xuemei X


  “If it weren’t for your loyalty and centuries of services,” Lorcan said, “I’d have killed you for insulting my mate.”

  “You’ve only known her for a few weeks, my lord,” Selena cried. “She can’t be your true mate. That girl is a black witch. She must have bewitched you, High Lord. And have you no feelings for me, for all I’ve done to please you in every way?”

  “I’ve had no feelings for anyone until I met my mate,” Lorcan said. “My true mate has made my heart beat for her and brought back my emotions. You’ll not disrespect her in any way. Offend her again and you’ll be banished. Your half-sister Jade tried to harm my mate and lies in her grave. Do not follow her path.”

  Wow, that was cold. Though Lorcan was defending me, he was just like any other vampire. They were all cold bastards. I hadn’t seen this side of him, or had refused to acknowledge it, because he was one of the sexiest males walking the Earth.

  Maybe I should reevaluate this mate thing. I was drawn to all of them like a stupid moth to the flame, but did I really know them? Had I made a mistake in bonding one already? Should I stop bonding the rest?

  Lorcan snapped his head toward me, feeling my turmoil.

  “Do not fear me, dulcis. I might be a cold bastard. It’s in my nature, as I’m lord to all vampires, but I’ll never be cold and callous toward you, to my very own, and I won’t allow anyone to hurt you in any way.”

  When Selena dropped to her knees, I was already half out of the door.

  I didn’t want her apologies.

  I didn’t care for the High Lord of Night demonstrating his iron rule in the Court of Blood and Void, either.

  But I wouldn’t walk away from Lorcan because of his flaws. I just hadn’t expected his insane protectiveness toward me. He would destroy the world for me without blinking. The question was whether I wanted that.

  5

  I went shopping to blow off steam.

  My companions—Alaric, five fae warriors, and Xihin— stuck to me like shadows. And then instead of letting me hang out in the one mall the gods hadn’t leveled, Alaric rushed me to Lorcan’s court after an hour and eighteen minutes. That was how long his patience lasted.

  I vowed that I would never bring men to the mall again. I needed to find a girl shopping buddy, which seemed impossible while these scary males wouldn’t leave me alone.

  When I returned to the blood court, I was still frustrated, so I decided to pay Phobos a visit.

  I dressed in a sports bra, yoga pants, and a pair of pink flipflops. Flipflops weren’t comfortable to walk in, but the vampires hated this street fashion, so I wore flipflops almost all the time in front of them.

  Anyway, after the guards opened the door, I stalked into Phobos’ new home, my flipflops making noise. The guards were afraid of disobeying me, because I had high status now, though some of them, who were in Selena’s clique, called me “whore” behind my back.

  “Hello,” I greeted Phobos with an easy smile.

  Phobos slowly straightened himself from a curled position on a bed. He swayed a little as he sat up.

  “How are you doing today, doll?” I asked, sitting beside him like a friend, because I had grown fond of him after taking a few sips from him in the past weeks.

  He flinched, not wanting me to get too close to him, even though he was two heads taller and could tower over me.

  “Not good,” he said, his violet eyes all puffy. Obviously, he’d been crying.

  “Is it wise to sit that close to the terror god?” Pyrder asked, his brows furrowing in concern.

  Both Pyrder and Alaric braced their strong legs open and loomed over Phobos and me before Phobos’ bed, ready to grab him and punch him should he look at me wrong.

  Reysalor needed to work with Lorcan on something—they always schemed together anyway—so they hadn’t escorted me on this pleasure trip.

  I laughed at Pyrder’s concern. “Phobos is harmless as a flower, aren’t you, Phobos?” I pressed my palm against his face fondly, and he cringed out of my reach.

  “Please don’t drink from me today, Cass,” he whimpered, which made me feel like a monster. “I don’t feel well. I didn’t sleep last night.”

  “Why?” I asked with a frown. “What’s on your mind, Phobos? What’s bothering you?”

  He glanced at me through his thick lashes. Though he was terror incarnate, he was also a knockout god. “There’re a lot of things in my mind. Mostly, I’m concerned for my life.”

  “Really?” I inched closer to him, and he inched back, his arms tightly wrapping around his knees, his large hands ready to fend me off.

  I didn’t want to make him any more uncomfortable, so I stopped advancing on him.

  “Did you intentionally lie to me, Phobos?” I asked. “You told us we couldn’t kill you. Now you’re saying I can actually kill you? Is that it? Can you tell me how?”

  “That’s not what I meant,” he said, trying to hide the resentment and bitterness in his beautiful, godly voice. I bet he was taking great pains to appear meek. “You can’t kill a god at my level. No one can.” Some arrogance sank into his tone.

  “Then, why are you concerned for your life?” I asked.

  He tried to not look at me the way a smart person looks down at an idiot.

  “It’s not healthy for me to be locked up in a small, confined place,” he said, mopping a tear from the corner of his eye with the back of his hand. “I have claustrophobia, Cass. I won’t survive this.”

  I’d been locked up in a cage for over a decade, and my cage was much worse than his small room.

  “You’ll get used to this new life,” I said, biting my lip, feeling sorry for him. “This is for your own good and for the good of the world. I can’t just set you loose and let you walk around inspiring terror.”

  I sounded like my mother, who believed that I was the worst monster ever. And now we locked up the God of Terror, believing he was the monster.

  How was I better than Jezebel?

  A wave of self-loathing and confusion surged in me.

  I stood up. I couldn’t deal with this.

  “I’m bored to tears, Cass,” Phobos said. “There’s no entertainment here, and I’m all alone. I’ve never felt so weak and miserable.” He trained his big, violet eyes on me. They were no longer vicious but full of pleading. “I need energy drinks, too.”

  I blinked. “But you’re a god.”

  He sent me a baleful look. “I need to eat, just like you.”

  “You want food?” I asked. “I can make an arrangement.”

  “Not that kind of food! I need to drink from the living beings’ fear.”

  My thumb rubbed my chin. “Well—”

  “For fuck’s sake, you’ve been a psychopath and a murderer since the beginning of your existence,” Alaric growled at Phobos. “And now you’re preying on Cass’s soft heart and her inexperience with the world? How many innocents died at your hands?”

  The image of the Manhattan skyline in fire and smoke flashed before my eyes.

  I also remembered when Phobos had poured poison down my throat and spoke with amusement about raping and dissecting me. He hadn’t showed the slightest remorse or empathy.

  “There are no innocents,” Phobos said. “You know that as much as I do, demigod. You killed tens of thousands of beings too. Your hands aren’t any less red.”

  “You’re a bad actor, Phobos,” Alaric said in disgust. “Quit your performance before Cass. She wasn’t born yesterday. She might feel sorry for you, but she knows she can’t set you free. You’re the God of Terror. You get high from striking fear into every mortal’s and immortal’s heart. You’re wasting your time acting like a pussy.”

  Phobos’ eyes glowed dark violet. His tears were gone, and viciousness emanated out of his pores like sheets of rain. A wave of terror vibrated in the air, slashing against everyone within the range, except me since I was immune to his godly power.

  Muscles twisted on Alaric’s and Pyrder’s faces, and the gua
rds outside the room groaned as they dropped to their feet.

  “Stop it, Phobos,” I warned.

  He stilled, and the shockwave of terror faded. “Sorry, Cass, I didn’t mean it. I got emotional. The demigod always riles me up. He’s crude and he always brought out the worst in me. You should not hang out with him. He’s a bad influence.”

  Alaric laughed. “Yeah, you’re one to talk.”

  Phobos wiped his tear again.

  “I’m not going to drink from you today,” I sighed.

  He gazed at me hopefully like a puppy, a teardrop still glinting on his long eyelashes.

  “To be honest with you, Phobos, the more I drink from you, the colder and crueler I become,” I said, glancing at Alaric and Pyrder. And they looked surprised and suddenly alarmed. I hadn’t revealed to them the side effect of taking energy from the terror god. “They say you are what you eat. I’ve taken too much of your terror essence into me and it’s kind of turned me into a bitch sometimes.”

  “You don’t want to be the meanest bitch, Cass,” Phobos said enticingly. “You don’t want to end up like me. You’re still young. I’m up to no good. Even my mother said so.” His eyes softened as he mentioned his mother. “You know my mother is the Goddess of Love, right?”

  “Yep,” I said, jerking a thumb at Alaric. “He told me you’re Aphrodite’s love child. Your dad cuckolded his butt-ugly brother Hephaestus, and you’re the product of their unlawful banging.”

  Phobos glared at Alaric with pure hatred, and Alaric chuckled. “My Cass is colorful, but I did tell her that.”

  “You’re so beneath me, bastard son of Zeus,” Phobos said with such venom that it shocked me. It was as if a puppy suddenly grew fangs. “I won’t stoop to your level.”

  “It’s okay you’re a love child, Phobos,” I said. “I’m not judging you. None of us are. And that’s not why I came to see you today. Let’s not get sidetracked. I’m very busy. I need you to do something for me. You’re going to give me the answers I need before I have my nails done.” I gave my pink fingernails a quick glance.

  “What’s wrong with your nails?” Phobos said gruffly. “They’re pink, shiny, and healthy.”

  “That’s the thing, Phobos,” I sighed. “Pink isn’t my scene. I want two-toned colors. I decided to go with purple and blue, but you can talk me out of it if you want to. But we gotta hurry up. I’ll have an appointment for my manicure and pedicure in an hour. So Pyrder is going to ask you the first question.”

  I gestured at my fae mate. “Pyrder, you have the floor.”

  I’d thought Pyrder and Alaric chose to tower over Phobos, using their height to intimidate the god, who sat as far as he could get from me on the bed. But then I realized there wasn’t a chair in the cell for the duo to sit down.

  I kicked off my flipflops and sat cross-legged to make myself more comfortable. I didn’t understand why Phobos still tried to recoil from me. If he kept doing that, he was going to fall off the bed and land on his godly ass.

  Pyrder began by asking where the gods’ human and mage armies were. He and Lorcan had asked it before, and Phobos always gave the same answer: all over the planet.

  When Pyrder asked which gods wanted to destroy humanity the most and which gods harbored some sympathy toward the earthlings, Alaric cut in. “It’s the same as before. History is repeating itself.”

  Ares, Phobos’ dad, was the God of War, and he wanted to snuff out humans the most, but Zeus, the king of the gods, had some reservations about wiping out the humans and supernaturals on Earth.

  “You need to let me go,” Phobos said. “If my father learns that you have me imprisoned, he’ll rain down his wrath on you, and you’ll hope death finds you sooner.”

  “That’s awesome,” I said with glee. “I’m now keener to meet your dad.”

  I reached a hand to pinch Phobos’ cheek to show affection, even though he’d just threatened me. He swatted at my hand, which earned a punch on his jaw from Alaric.

  “Touch her again, you’ll be strung up for the entire night,” the demigod promised.

  A tear dropped out of Phobos’ violet eyes.

  “Fine,” I said, waving Alaric back. “No beating. He can’t take it anymore.” I turned to Phobos. “Do you want me to wipe your tears?”

  “I’ll do it myself,” he said defensively.

  He quickly flicked the tears away with his long fingers.

  The vampire guards treated him badly. They didn’t provide him with Kleenex. I would talk to Lorcan about improving the treatment of the prisoners.

  “So, sugar doll, what else did your seer say about me? How did she know about me?” I was fishing around, trying to hide my true intention. I needed to know my heritage to better prepare myself for the final showdown with the gods.

  A sadistic light sparked in his violet eyes. “You don’t know anything about your origin, do you, little Cass?” In an instant, he transformed from the whimpering god to a predator. “But you’re dying to know. How about we make a deal? I’ll tell you everything I know, including the detailed coordinates of the gods’ mortal armies, the seer and her prophecies, and all the secret knowledge I’ve learned about you.”

  Could I lie and trick him?

  A warning flashed behind my eyelids. Mortals’ words meant nothing. But if I vowed, my words would bind me.

  “Never negotiate with a god,” Alaric said, and before he could punch Phobos again for the terror god’s condescending tone, I stopped him.

  “That’s not how it works, Phobos,” I explained patiently. “You know I can break you. If you’d seized me in that New York club, you’d have done all kinds of unimaginable, horrible things to me, as you once outlined for me in detail. But the tide turned, and I caught you. I haven’t done anything awful to you except taking a few sips from you every three days. Under my care, you still look robust. I can easily change that. So, give me the answers I need, or I’ll take them from you.”

  He sneered. “You think you can really break me, little girl? You don’t even know how. You don’t know what kind of power dwells deep in you. When you destroy others, it can destroy you because it’ll control you and become you. And you think you can keep me here forever as your toy and food? I’m the God of Terror.”

  All of a sudden, he rose to his full height, frightening power rolling off him.

  Alaric and Pyrder both reacted, lunging at him, but Phobos was faster, since he’d planned this, and he acted first. A shockwave rammed into my mates, sending them crashing against the walls. At the same time, Phobos grabbed my wrists, pinning them above my head, his other hand clutching my throat and lifting me.

  My feet dangled in the air, since he was so much taller than me. His hand on my wrists was so tight I could already feel the bruises.

  Air stopped flowing into my lungs as he tightened his grip on my throat with his godly strength.

  He was rather rough with me.

  Phobos wheeled around, putting me between my mates and him and shielding himself before Alaric and Pyrder got off the ground with murderous roars.

  A few vampires and fae warriors charged into the cell, swords ready. But no blade could cut down the God of Terror.

  Phobos knew that and sneered at them as if they were bugs on the floor.

  With eons of experience and cunning and ruthlessness, he’d outwitted and overpowered me.

  Usually, I sent my power through my hands. And when I drank him, I always put my palm against his skin. With my wrists bound, I couldn’t touch him. Nor could I fling my power at him.

  Phobos had been faking power fatigue and weeping to make me let down my guard. I wasn’t an expert on gods. I hadn’t even known their existence before my mates had freed me.

  Plus, I wasn’t completely heartless. I had a bleeding heart, if occasionally, and today was one of the unfortunate occasions.

  Alaric and Pyrder charged again, and Phobos sent a wave of terror toward them. Prepared, Alaric stepped forward, wielding his flaming sword and try
ing to find an opening to impale the terror god.

  Pyrder staggered back before he pushed through, clenching his teeth.

  The vampires and fae warriors dropped to their knees, their eyes bleeding, terror twisting their faces.

  “Get out of the room,” Alaric yelled at the warriors. “You can’t resist his power.”

  The vampires and fae warriors struggled out, some crawling. Pyrder tossed the last two out and locked the door.

  Alaric slashed his sword at Phobos, and Phobos swung me toward the sword. Alaric withdrew his blade immediately, but not quickly enough. The flaming tip scratched my skin, leaving a small blood trail on my forearm.

  My cries didn’t leave my throat under Phobos’ tight clutch.

  Alaric cursed. “Cass, I’m sorry,” he called, his face paling. Fear for me etched in the ruthless demigod’s eyes. “Hang in there, sweetheart. I’ll get you out of here.”

  If I could answer him, I would have told him that getting too attached to me wouldn’t do him good.

  “Careful, Alaric!” Pyrder yelled. “You hurt our mate!”

  In a blur of light, the fae prince shifted to a massive panther, gorgeous with shining golden fur, his eyes burning with inferno rage. My breath caught, not at his rage but at his beauty. Actually, my breath didn’t catch. Phobos had effectively cut off my air supply.

  I wanted to claw his hand away from my throat, yet I couldn’t move an inch. I was a sitting duck in the air. However, I discovered for the second time that I could live without breathing, though the sensation wasn’t pleasant.

  The golden panther stalked to Phobos’ side, seeking an opening to attack the terror god. In his beast form, Pyrder seemed more courageous, since the terror in the air couldn’t affect the panther much. His fur rippled under Phobos’ terror, but his face no longer twisted.

  He growled and leapt, and at the same time, Alaric attacked from the front. But Phobos was no novice, and the dude was quicker than any being had the right to be.

  Alaric and the panther jumped back to avoid hitting me as Phobos waved me around as a shield.

  My mates shared a dismayed look.

 

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