The Dread King: A Reverse Harem Fantasy (The Harbinger Book 3)

by Candace Wondrak

  Nilda stood, taking the mortar and pestle with her. She moved next to Sellyn as she said, “I will make sure no one enters the tent for the next twenty-four hours.” She gave a little bow, her necklace of claws clattering together as only bones could. “May you find what you seek.” With pep in her step, she left, Sellyn grumbling in tow.

  Coughing, Faith brought the cup to her nose. “That is a better smell?” She gagged, lowering the cup to her lap. “How bad did it smell before?” When no one said anything else, she glanced to them all, lingering on Light the longest. “What’s the worst that could happen?” With a shrug, she downed the entire contents of the cup, struggling to keep it down.

  “That’s our motto,” Jag quipped, throwing his head back and he drank his. His face twisted in revulsion, and he muttered, “What’s the worst that could happen?” He looked like he wanted to be sick.

  With a shrug of his own, Finn chugged his maleek, his wide shoulders shaking with coughs. Good.

  Light was the last to drink his, the last to say, “What’s the worst that could happen?” A toast to their pitiful luck, to their bad choices, and to the most unsuccessful and unorthodox Harbinger in history.

  Of course, the worst that could happen, they should all know by now, was something very, very bad.

  Chapter Nineteen

  What was this feeling? Faith felt weightless, like a cloud in the shape of a body. She struggled to open her eyes, fearing whatever this feeling was would disappear the moment she did. But, luckily, it didn’t disappear. In fact, it intensified. When she opened her eyes and saw the ceiling of the tent, she giggled. The top of the tent looked like it was a hundred feet away.

  She sat, though she couldn’t feel her muscles working. Faith knew she sat because her vision changed from vertical to horizontal. She saw three sprawled figures around her, and she laughed at their peaceful, sleeping expressions, but the laugh died fast. Did her laugh always sound so strange? Like a thousand butterflies all flying at once.

  Crawling to Jag, she leaned over his chest. He looked so tranquil, so cute. She ran her hands across his chest, amazed at the feeling of his muscles beneath her. His fur thinned on his pectorals; he was mostly Human-like there. Her roaming hands went to his face, rubbing the short fur on the bottom of his jaw before moving to his ears. His wonderful, cute, adorable ears that perked up with his mood.

  Faith loved his ears. She wanted ears like that.

  As she gently tugged on his ears, hyper-focused on how soft they were, his eyes twitched open. A deep, pure blue, so different and startling compared to the blackness of his hair and fur. They zeroed in on her, and a sly smile crept over his face. “You,” he whispered, his voice sounding like drums in her head, eliciting a beat she had to listen to. “You are beautiful.”

  The words sent a shiver through her, and Faith lunged at him, kissing him, wanting nothing more than to be swallowed up by everything that was Jag.

  A deep growl emanated from his chest as he sat and moved on top of her. She laughed as he showered her with kisses, laughed at how strange the world was. The space around them seemed to shift and grow, almost spinning.

  Why was this tent suddenly as large as her grandma’s apartment? Was it always this big? Her wandering thoughts were interrupted by the dominant Malus above her. Yes, she wanted him to take her. Yes, she wanted him inside her. She didn’t care about the others around her. If they woke up, they could always join in if they wanted.

  Jag’s pants were off faster than she could blink—and she blinked slowly as she sat, watching him undress with interest. His dick—what a strange word—was already rock hard. Was she hard? No, no, she didn’t get hard. She got wet. She got warm and fuzzy and excited.

  She stripped out of her clothes before he started to get down, but she stopped him by saying, “Wait.” Once she was naked and he stood, itching to get down there with her, she got on her knees, crawling before him.

  Faith wanted to look up at him, but all her somewhat hazy gaze could focus on was the erectness in front of her. She ran her hands up his legs, gently cupping his balls. He moaned when she ran her nails across them and took him into her mouth. Her memories were a little fuzzy, but she didn’t think she ever took him in quite like this before.

  She sucked on him for a while, growing warm each time he let out a pleased sound. Running her tongue down its length, she swirled it around the head before taking him back in. Her jaw was open as far as it would go, but she didn’t notice the dull ache; she only cared about Jag.

  “Enough,” Jag muttered, pulling his hips back. Her lips made a popping noise as he left her mouth. “I must have you right now.”

  He sounded more animal than man in that moment, and she loved it. He came down, moving her around so she was on her knees with her butt in the air before him. His left hand gripped her hip while his other hand was flat on her lower back. In one slick motion, he pushed inside her, and she was more than ready to take him.

  Faith was on air. She felt amazing, so different than how she normally felt. Like she could take on the world, take on everything. Take in everything. And boy, did she want to.

  The hand on her back moved to her other hip, and Jag pounded into her like he needed her to breathe. He took her like a Malus, and his grip on her hips told her he wasn’t about to let her go.

  She was more than fine with it. She didn’t want to be let go of. She wanted his hands there, his nails slightly digging into her flesh, claiming her. Though her thoughts were fuzzy, she knew she wanted nothing more than to let him use her however he wished.

  It wasn’t too long before another stirred. Faith watched Light’s eyes slowly open, and as he clumsily sat, felt his head, and looked around, she gave him a smile, as if Jag wasn’t currently pushing himself as deep as he could go inside her.

  “What…” Light’s voice made her skin prickle. It washed over her like an ocean, waves of bliss. He currently stared at his own hands as if they held the answers to all of their problems. They didn’t; Faith did. Or at least she thought she did.

  She felt like she did.

  Faith pulled herself from Jag, eliciting a moan from the Malus as she crawled to Light’s side, set a hand on his face and kissed him. Her actions caused him to wince, and she pulled back just enough to remember he was bruised and his lip cut. Of course. She knew he was hurt. She remembered.

  Barely.

  But Light must not have cared much for the pain she caused, for he quickly intertwined his fingers in her hair and pulled her back in. Their mouths met, parted slightly, and their tongues played together for a while. Light’s hands ran down her, and then a second pair of hands grabbed her ass, lifting it up.

  Right. She had left Jag rather abruptly, didn’t she?

  Light’s tongue left her mouth as he pulled back enough to stare quizzically at Jag as he positioned himself behind her. He didn’t need to study the Malus for long, because it was more than clear what he wanted.

  Faith shoved Light back down so that he laid under her. With her backside in the air, she lowered her mouth to Light’s, inhaling the moment Jag entered her. She wanted to laugh, for it was kind of funny—they were having sex right on top of Light, with Jag standing with his feet spread almost comically apart so he didn’t step on either of them. But she didn’t laugh, because it felt so good. So good it was unreal.

  This what was she always wanted. This was why her grandma always warned her off men and penises. Once she had a taste, it just wasn’t enough. Faith wasn’t sure if it would ever be enough. She’d stay like this all day with them, if she could.

  It was difficult to both kiss Light and let Jag have at her from behind, but she made do, as did Light. When Faith broke apart their kiss to moan aloud, Light brought his lips to her neck, sucking on her there for a time before he scooted down and took a nipple in his mouth. His wet, warm tongue flicked over the chosen nipple, nearly sending her off the edge.

  Just when her nerves tensed and she felt the beginning waves for
m, Jag shook behind her as he let out a sharp groan. He only slacked for a bit, though; Faith knew he could go on a lot longer than that.

  Light’s mouth released her nipple, and he crawled out from under her, taking off his clothes as fast as he could. Faith giggled, Jag slipping out of her. She’d never seen Light move so fast. Maybe he felt as carefree as she did. Maybe he just wanted her right this minute. If he felt like she did, like a million sunsets and sunrises all squished together to make a body, she didn’t blame him. In fact, she wanted him right now, too.

  When Light took off his pants, his manhood, a lot paler than Jag’s, stood ready. Light met Jag’s stare, who still stood behind her, caressing her ass. “I want to do it like that,” Light told him, his voice slurring a bit.

  Jag more than willingly stepped aside, allowing Light to take his place. “Just pry her open, if you like to see it, and—”

  Light didn’t need any further instruction. His hands were more tentative at first, but it was almost instinctual. He guided himself to her opening, already dripping with a mixture of horniness and Jag’s cum, pushing into her effortlessly. He wasn’t as wide as Jag, but he was longer. She could practically feel it in her belly button, she smiled at herself. Light began his own rhythm, rocking them both back and forth.

  Jag moved to sit before her, watching as Light humped her from behind. His blue eyes were curious, his pupils extremely large. Were they always so big and black? She was about to ask when he voiced his own question, “Why are you so pretty?”

  She didn’t have an answer to that.

  With her back arched, Faith wanted to respond, but she found Light knocked all the wind out of her. He was going at her faster and stronger than she ever remembered him doing before. She liked this new Light. She liked being his, being all of theirs.

  “The faces you make are so…” Jag trailed off as the other man in the tent started to stir. “Oh, lookie. It’s our favorite person!” Even though he was kind of out of it, his sarcasm crept back in.

  Before Finn could open his eyes, Faith said, “Finn, how are you? I feel great.” It wasn’t a lie. This was the best she’d felt in ages. Years, even. Behind her, Light’s grip on her tightened, and she felt him shake above her.

  She’d feel even better if she could orgasm. It wasn’t just a guy thing.

  When she was certain Light was finished, Faith leaned forward, kissing Jag’s cheek before she stood and made her way to Finn on the other side of the tent. A bit of wetness dripped down her inner thighs, evidence of what they just did. Feeling it trickle down her made her want even more.

  Finn blinked a million and a half times, watching her approach. “What is going on here? And why am I not surprised?” An easy smile crossed his face as she sat on his lap, wrapping her legs around him. “Were they not enough for you?”

  His hands were already cupping and massaging her breasts. He knew the answer to that question; he just wanted to hear her say it, probably. Faith knew she probably shouldn’t enjoy his touch as much as she did, but it didn’t stop herself from relishing in every sensation his hands gave her.

  “I want your tongue,” Faith said, loud enough for everyone in the weirdly-huge tent to hear. For a while there, she forgot she was in a tent and felt like she was in the Taj Mahal. A pampered princess and her men with all the time in the world.

  He lifted her up, moving her so she laid on the ground beneath him. “Fine,” he whispered, “but they get to watch me make you squirm.” He shot a glare to Jag and Light, though it turned out as more of an invitation than a glare.

  The Elf and the Malus sat around them, two feet away. Faith reached her arms to them, one to each, one on each side, and they grabbed her hands before Finn gave them instruction.

  “No,” he said, “she’s mine.”

  “For now, ugly Finn,” Jag mumbled, moving the hand that touched hers to the hardness poking skyward. It had returned while he watched Light screw her, and it didn’t seem to be fading. Light nodded in agreement.

  Finn spread her legs before him, gazing down at her like she was something shiny and new, just what he always wanted. “I want you so bad I don’t even care all of this is because of them.” He ran a finger along her crease, slick with wetness. He gave a short laugh. “What the hell is wrong with me?” Both of his large, strong hands rubbed her thighs, and he started to lower his mouth, but she stopped him.

  He was far too clothed for this, after all.

  “Take off your clothes first,” she said, pretty much ordering him to do it.

  A dark maroon eyebrow lifted, and he hesitated only for a moment as he glanced to both Jag and Light. They were both naked, as was Faith. Why shouldn’t he be? It felt so much better when everything was out in the open and hanging out.

  Finn didn’t argue. He seemed all too thrilled to get out of his hunter’s uniform. Faith had seen him shirtless, but shirtless was nothing like pantless. The man was strong. He had muscles on top of muscles, even when he wasn’t flexing. Veins bulged in his arms. His legs looked like they could cut through stone with a single kick. Even his neck seemed thick.

  He knelt before her, confident she was satisfied, drawing his fingers up her legs and resting them on the sensitive skin her underwear always covered. At this rate, Faith never wanted to wear underwear again.

  Faith wasn’t sure what to expect, but whatever she did expect, reality was a thousand times greater. Finn’s tongue gliding through her crevices, paying special heed to the little mound of skin at its top. The very first moment his tongue touched her down there, she let out a smooth moan of pleasure, and she wouldn’t stop making similar sounds until he was finished with her. What was it he said about the skill level of his tongue? Whatever it was, he didn’t give it enough praise.

  It was heaven. It was bliss unequaled. It was as if his tongue was made to make her feel things she’d never felt before.

  Faith found herself starting to move her hips, grinding them against his mouth as he licked her, teased her, tasted her. “Oh, god,” she whispered, glancing to both Jag and Light. God had nothing to do with this, she decided as she spotted them touching themselves, dragging their tight hands up and down over their hard shafts, still wet from being inside of her. They watched Faith writhe from Finn’s tongue, rapt.

  Watching them touch themselves, knowing Finn was between her legs, his tongue lapping at her, swirling and dancing along her most sensitive flesh, brought her to the brink. Her body shook, trembling uncontrollably, as an orgasm dominated her body and every nerve inside. When the waves of pleasure grew small, she let out a sigh. She wasn’t ready for it to be over.

  Finn knew he’d gotten her there, a smirk on his wet lips. “Record time,” he said, mostly patting himself on the back.

  Faith propped herself up, not quite finished with Finn yet. With a laugh, she brought her arms to his neck, wrapping them around him, tugging him down so that he laid on top of her. She gave him a deep kiss, and even then, it was like his tongue was never satisfied. His tongue slipped into her mouth, lightly touching hers. His hands grazed every inch of her, rubbing her nipples until they ached with wanting, moving down between her legs and stroking her there, as if he hadn’t quite done all he’d set out to do.

  A finger slid inside of her, moving in a way a man’s most prized possession couldn’t, stroking her inner walls until she had to break their deep kiss to moan.

  “You are so wet,” Finn murmured into her ear, licking her earlobe. “Tell me at least some of it is for me.”

  All she could do was nod weakly. Feeling helpless under Finn wasn’t the most horrible thing in the world. Having Light and Jag watching Finn finger her also wasn’t so bad. It was a lot less awkward than she thought it’d be. Why hadn’t they spent each and every night like this? Who cared about being the Harbinger? Who cared about defeating Dracyrus?

  Dracyrus.

  Faith was a little out of her mind—and she knew it—but it didn’t stop her from thinking about the Dracon with the massi
ve height, the bull-like horns and the scale-free ass. And, if she was honest, his package was just as impressive as the rest of him. He was hung like a horse, as Christine might say.

  Oh, yes. Where was Dracyrus when she needed him?

  And, for that matter, where was Cam?

  Chapter Twenty

  Dracyrus stood on what might have been a well-traveled road in one point in the realm’s history. His black, metallic stare gazed upon a rather small and diminutive shack. Its basic necessities remained, but it was no home. He could smell the desertion, the abandonment.

  He moved closer, bending to enter the front door, which hung wide open. There was no dust, as though someone had been here recently, someone with the hope they would remain there a while. Drawing a scaled finger along a broom resting against the wall nearest him, Dracyrus inhaled deeply.

  He could smell her.

  The Harbinger.

  Faith.

  While it was most certainly wrong of him, he couldn’t help but move a little quicker. He checked the rooms in the back, the gross square of a washroom, the puny area that was the kitchen. He exited through the back, searching for her, wanting her to be near, to be here so he could…

  What? He wanted her here so he could what? End it for once and for all? If this was the last time he would be reborn, wasn’t it all that should dominate his mind?

  Alas, it wasn’t. Other thoughts—thoughts of which he never once had before—had taken him over, due in no small part to the dream she had called him into.

  Yes, because though the girl thought it but a dream, it had been so much more. The things Dracyrus had felt, how she’d looked at him, touched him, laid her lips on his…how could he not think of it? How could he not grow confused, for it went against his very nature? She was Human and the Harbinger. Both were his sworn enemies. Both he hated with his entire being.

  His legs drew him to the field of yellow and orange flowers blooming brightly, even putting the sunlight to shame with their vibrancies and life. In spite of it all, Dracyrus did not hate her. He could pretend he did, he could forget how he’d crawled over her and bit her clavicle. He could feign ignorance to the fact he knew what his actions meant.