“Yes,” Jag said simply, moving beside her for support. The Malus hated Finn, and she knew the only reason he was being so supportive was his kiss with his ex. Still, she’d take the backup.
“How? She is supposed to be ours, not his.”
“I’m not trying to take her away from you,” Finn muttered, swiping at the fresh blood oozing from his nose. The blood was a brighter color than his hair, almost garish.
Light shot him a dark glare. “Then what are you doing? She made it clear she doesn’t feel anything for you. Why can you not simply leave her alone?”
“Because I love her,” Finn shot back, firing away instantly. After it was out, he realized what he’d just said, and he blinked, measuredly moving his green stare to Faith.
Well, shit.
Even Jag was speechless beside her.
It took Light a long while to say, “We all love her.”
That was news to her. So far, no one had ever confessed feelings of love to her. Everything suddenly felt more real, as stupid as it was.
Light glared at Finn as he added, “What makes you so special? What gives you the right to—”
“Light,” Faith spoke his name softly, treading gently, her head reeling from all of the declarations. Things got way too serious here. She didn’t want to prod him further. Even when she had met him all those weeks—or months?—ago, and they did nothing but argue, she’d never seen him quite like this. She moved near him, grabbing his hand. “Can we have a moment alone?” she asked of Jag and Finn.
Jag was the first to go, because he probably still felt guilty over his kiss with Azelia, and Finn was much slower going. He wiped at his nose again, meeting Faith’s stare before following Jag out.
Once they were alone, Light looked down at her. She could not get over the fact he fought with Finn. A physical fist fight. It was like they were in elementary school, with zero conversational skills, boys who only knew how to talk with their fists.
“Do you share his feelings?” he asked quietly.
Was he asking if she loved Finn back?
Faith hadn’t told any of the guys she loved them. Why not? She didn’t know. She didn’t have an answer, and as for Light’s question, she wasn’t sure.
“I don’t know,” she whispered. All this talk of love was not what she needed right now. She wanted things to be simple and easy. This was the opposite of that. Her life, with the damn Harbinger prophecy, was complicated enough already.
He grew annoyed. “How do you not know? Either you do or you don’t.”
“I don’t know,” Faith repeated, louder this time. She shot him a glare. “I have a lot of things on my plate right now, and it isn’t like…”
It wasn’t like she had anything to compare it to. She’d gone on a few dates (that didn’t end well thanks to her family’s terrible luck with men), but she’d never made it this far with one, let alone three-maybe-four guys.
Not knowing where she was trying to go with that train of thought, she switched tactics. “I wasn’t going to keep it from you guys. I was going to tell you, I swear.”
Maybe if everyone could stop saying the word love, Faith could have some time to think without over-processing everything.
Light studied her, searching for the lie behind what she said. When he found no hidden lie, when he came to grasp she told the truth, his hard shell softened, and he reached for her face, hand cupping her cheek. “I will never like Finn…but if you do, I suppose—maybe—I can try to play nice,” he whispered.
A weight lifted from her shoulders after hearing him, even if the whole playing nice part was a bit half-hearted. “Okay,” she said, gently tugging at the leather strap on Light’s chest that was at her eye-level. “So all who’s left to tell is Cam.” Cam seemed like an understanding fellow; he wouldn’t be nearly as reactive to the news as Light.
“Cam knows. He’s an Ulen,” Light told her. The hand cupping her face fell to her back, pulling her closer. He winced at the contact, but his grip didn’t loosen. “And he stopped Finn and I from further destroying each other.”
Faith frowned slightly as she gazed up at him. “Are you all right?”
“I’ve certainly felt better,” Light cracked a joke. “Finn is stronger than he looks, and he looks pretty strong, so I’ll leave the rest to your imagination.”
“Do I have to start babysitting you two?” Faith asked with a smile.
Light mirrored her smile, though his seemed strained. His lip split open again as he smiled, and he ran his tongue over it to wipe away the blood. “No. However, I am going to ask you to apologize to me.” He rose a single blonde, bruised brow.
She couldn’t believe it. A chuckle escaped her.
Did these guys think of anything else besides sex? They weren’t really different from their Human counterparts after all.
Chapter Eighteen
Faith was very good at apologizing. She only got rough with him a few times, and Light had to kindly remind her he was recovering from a fight with her new, annoying, Human lover. She didn’t need to know he started it, even if it was true. It was one bit of information she didn’t need, and he wasn’t going to jump to tell her.
After all this time, it still took some getting used to. Elvenkind often had multiple lovers, but it was not common for Elves to remain with their chosen mates forever. His parents had defied Elven society in more ways than one. Light was doing his best. For him, for Faith, for his best friend and his brother—Finn…well, the Human could fall off a cliff and Light would scarcely care. He’d only care because Faith might.
But he would not go picking any more fights, at least for a while. Light had said he’d play nice, and he’d meant it. How long he’d play nice was up for grabs.
Laying on top of him, utterly bare, her fiery brown hair splayed across his chest as Faith traced her finger around his nipple, running over it lightly every so often just to make it hard. His left hand rested on her lower back, holding her to him. The feeling of Faith naked against him was the best feeling in the entire realm.
And to think, he once let his mother’s views on Humans affect his own. No Elf truly admired the way Humans looked. They were too short, too stout compared to the long and graceful bodies Elves had.
Growing up with a mother who constantly diminished Humans? Of course he was bound to feel the same, even after leaving his mother’s hut and his childhood home. And Light was always a bit hotheaded. It was only a matter of time until he let his feelings about Humans slip; he had done so to a Fae trade caravan, a caravan whose members had a daughter who had left for Earth after the gateways opened. They had taken the Human insults personally, as if their Fae daughter turned Human the moment she stepped foot in their world. How was he to know?
He certainly had no idea the Court would force him to tutor the Human students who came through the gateways, and he hadn’t expected his last stint as a tutor would end up like this.
Part of a fellowship. One of the Harbinger’s mates. It still flabbergasted him when he thought about it.
Faith was…the opposite of what he usually liked. She was short, her hips wide and her chest…quite large and round compared to Elven women. But she was also lean and fit, her curves feminine and sleek. Now, after being with her, Light wouldn’t have it any other way.
He closed his eyes, knowing they should get up and leave the tent. The others had been sent outside—how long ago was it? He tried to picture how long Faith’s apology was, and he still had no idea. It was so easy to lose himself inside Faith, both literally and figuratively. Yes, when he was inside of her, he lost his sense. All he could think about was pleasing her, making her squirm and moan.
But this time? This time she was the one who was on top. And it was daylight, so he could see every inch of her as she rocked back and forth above him, taking him in and out with each arch of her back. Her round breasts bouncing with each movement, her hair sticking to her face and her mouth hanging open just enough she could let out moans of ple
asure…by the kingdoms, Light was getting hard again as he thought about it.
Perhaps the others outside could wait a little bit longer…
“So,” Faith said, stretching out, moving so her chin rested on his chest. Her green eyes were vibrant and bright as she gazed up at him. “Do you accept my apology?”
Light acted as though it were the most difficult decision of his life. “I suppose.”
Her full lips curled into a smile—lips he wanted to kiss so desperately, but couldn’t due to the cut on his. After it healed, he would be certain to take full advantage. It was a lot better to kiss lips like hers than the thin lines Elvenkind called their mouths. Light was no exception; his lips had no volume compared to hers.
“You suppose?” she echoed, biting her bottom lip. Seeing her do that always drove him a little mad. The gesture just begged him to come near, to make her his. “What, do you need more?”
With his other hand, Light tucked her hair behind her ear. “When it comes to you, I always need more.”
She giggled, a very girlish sound, right before moving to kiss his neck. No, not kissing, he corrected himself. Sucking? Regardless, it still felt good.
“What are you doing?” His voice came out in a wispy breath, barely audible.
“Giving you a hickey, so everyone knows you’re mine,” she said after a few more seconds at his neck. She propped herself up, sitting on his abdomen, one leg on either side of him. From his position, he could see the top folds of her most private part. The sight made him temporarily forget his insides ached from the fight. It was the part of her he needed more of right this second. He didn’t even care what a hickey was; he didn’t ask. He just stared down at her hungrily.
Faith didn’t wait for him to beg, which he was seconds from doing. She scooted back, positioned him, and then sank down slowly, exhaling loudly as she took every part of him in. A look of bliss on her face, a short whine escaping from her throat. Her hands ran over her body in a taunting display, caressing her breasts and making her nipples hard.
Watching her, Light muttered, “You drive me mad.”
She sent him a knowing smirk as she replied, “I know.” And then, without another word, she started rocking, her hips swaying. In and out his length went. There was nothing better than laying back and letting Faith have her way with him. He didn’t care about the apology. Finn was the last thing on his mind as she rode him.
Light closed his eyes, unable to watch her bouncing breasts lest he have his apex too soon. He tried to ignore how good it felt to be inside her, to feel her moving against him, but he failed spectacularly. He felt the pleasure growing inside of him, and then—
Storming in the tent, Sellyn demanded, “Nilda wishes for…” Even her tough, cold voice halted the moment she saw Faith riding her son.
And, just like that, the coming orgasm was gone, vanished in the wake of his mother’s appearance. Light quickly sat up, pulling Faith against him, ignoring the slight pain that erupted as he held her against him. “Mother,” he said, doing his best not to sound like he was caught in the middle of sex, even though it was more than clear. And that he was still inside her.
Faith buried her face into his neck, her sweat mingling with his as she whispered, “Shit.”
Sellyn glared at them both, too disgusted for her to reveal any embarrassment for walking into their private time. “Clothe yourselves and then join me in Nilda’s tent.” She gave them one, last dismissive look before leaving.
“Well, it’s ruined now, isn’t it?” Faith groaned.
Even though he wanted to finish, even though he had been at the precipice of climax, he already felt himself losing vigor at an enormous rate per second. All thanks to the appearance of his mother. “Yes,” Light begrudgingly said, lifting her off him. He slid out, already worlds softer than he was before. “Completely ruined.”
They both dressed themselves as quickly as they could before exiting the tent. Sellyn stood near Jag and Finn with her arms crossed, her short yellow hair swaying slightly in the stale winds that seemed to permanently reside over the plains of G’alen. Years before, she wasn’t nearly as hard as she was today. Was this what happened to all Elvenfolk when they got older and supposedly wiser?
Light shuddered at the thought. He didn’t wish to become like his mother.
“Are you quite finished with that?” Sellyn asked, “Or does she wish to take turns with the Malus and the Human next?”
Jag perked up even though it was clearly a joke, while Finn refused to meet Light’s eyes. He did glance at Faith, and she pretended to both ignore his look and his mother’s remark. It was probably for the best.
Sellyn’s eyes fell to Light’s neck, and she shook her head before leading them through the camp to Nilda’s tent. They all looked the same, save for hers. Because she was their leader and their chief, her tent was double the size, with an entryway of sorts. The Malus were a nomadic people, and even though everything seemed temporary, Light still could not picture the entire camp being packed up and moved.
Sellyn was the first to enter the tent, followed by Jag, then Finn, then Faith and Light. They found Nilda already sitting in the center on a blue blanket with crude designs of yellow circles. Like suns in a woven sky. She had her legs crisscrossed, her long braids piled on her lap. In her craggy hands, she held a bowl—no, not a bowl. A mortar and pestle. She ground something up, humming to herself, lost in her craft, even after they piled inside.
“Sellyn,” Nilda spoke, finally breaking her trance. “Will you fetch me some rewt flowers? I believe there were some growing near—”
“I know where they are,” Sellyn muttered, spinning on her heel and walking out.
Nilda glanced up to them, smiling at Faith mostly. She patted the ground around her. “Please, sit.” Once they’d all sat, she spoke, “So, I’ve been thinking about why you’re here.” In her lap, her fingers strummed on the mortar.
“The Cave of Memories,” Faith said with a nod.
“And while I still don’t think the Cave of Memories is a true place, I do have something that might help you, after Sellyn gets back with the rewt flowers.” Nilda glanced to the concoction of slop in her lap. It was a grey, uniform color. Wholly unappetizing in Light’s eyes. “Every chief of each Malus tribe must go through a…ritual of sorts before their tribe can accept them as their chief.”
Okay, now Light was intrigued. “What kind of ritual?” he asked.
“Well, I was about to explain the ritual before you interrupted,” Nilda spoke with a shrug. “Now hold onto your pants, because I’m going to continue. And I’m going to skip the pointless information about what’s inside the mixture, because you don’t need to know—and you probably wouldn’t take it if you did know—and tell you this will show you what you really want to see. Whatever you long for in your heart.”
“Wait,” Finn said. “What do you mean, if we knew what was in it we wouldn’t want to take it? Is it dangerous?”
“No,” the chief answered quickly. “Not exactly. It’s a bit of a…oh, what’s the word? A vision-inducing substance.”
Light blinked, not quite getting it. Faith, however, did, for she said, “A drug. You’re offering to give us a drug.”
“I don’t do drugs,” Finn quickly spoke. “I’m part of the I.D., and they’re very against everything like that—”
Beside him, Jag mused, “If the I.D. really cared about you, do you think they would’ve stuck you here, with us? I say let’s do it. I’m all for some creepy visions.” He gave a toothy grin.
“You don’t have to do it with Faith,” Nilda said. “I only thought that, since you’re a bit closer than the traditional fellowship, you might like to take part in this journey together.” She let out a laugh. “Who knows? You may discover something about yourself you never before knew.”
Light gave her a weird look. How would taking a vision-inducing substance make any of them realize something new about themselves?
“Right, let me
explain why that is.” Nilda added, “It’s called maleek. In addition to showing you what you want to see, it also lowers your inhibitions, the walls you’ve put up in your minds. As chief, we are expected to be open and kind, to know our feelings and the feelings of our tribe. Maleek helps us with the transition from tribe member to chief.”
“Why would this help us?” Faith asked. She didn’t seem to like the idea too much. “Seeing something in our heads is not the same thing as seeing something real.”
“That’s just it, dear. The Cave of Memories is not real. Whoever told you to travel here to find it must’ve known you’d find a tribe of Malus. Whatever memories you have to unlock are already inside your head, I’m sure. You are the Harbinger. Your mind is different than the rest of ours. Try the maleek. The worst it could do is give you a headache in the morning.”
Ah. Light understood now. The Cave of Memories could very well be a synonym for the recesses of Faith’s mind, memories of past Harbingers she had yet to see, to relive. This maleek was worth a shot.
Light nodded, shooting Faith a quick glance as he said, “I think we should try it.”
All too fast to jump on the bandwagon, Jag said, “He’s right. What have we got to lose?”
Both Faith and Finn were quiet as Sellyn reappeared, handing over a bundle of the dull purple flowers that must’ve been the rewts. She crossed her arms and stood back, watching as Nilda dumped the flowers into the grey mixture and started using the pestle again, grinding the flowers down, mashing them into the paste.
“The rewts aren’t necessary,” Nilda explained, “they’re mostly for the smell. Maleek has a horrible stench. It’s best if you swallow it fast.” She reached beside her, where a few cups lay. She put an equal amount of the maleek into each cup, handing the first to Light. Then Jag, then Finn, and lastly, Faith. “Do not fight it. Let it take you over. Let it lead you to where you need to go.”
Faith was sluggish in giving Nilda a nod of acknowledgment, though her expression still read as uncertain.
The Dread King: A Reverse Harem Fantasy (The Harbinger Book 3) Page 14