The Far Realm Chronicles Anthology

by Annette Archer

  Luciro hissed at him and reached toward him with his uppermost claws. A slash with the knife sent him back a step. “You have done what you have done,” Luciro said to him. “I can not change that. I’m offering you a chance to live, Prince. Take it.”

  Thanus looked up the steps. Ethelia was nowhere to be seen. This was it. If he stopped Luciro here, they would have a chance to leave town safely. If not…well, if not, both of them would be dead.

  “I tell you what,” Thanus said to him. “How about you turn around now and go back to whatever rock you climbed out from under, and I won’t kill you.”

  Luciro hissed at him again. “You have been warned, Prince.”

  “Warn me again. I don’t think I heard you.”

  That sent the monster into fits of hysterics and it came at Thanus screaming and clawing, and Thanus ducked under claws and teeth and brought his sword up into the thing’s throat.

  The knife hit a bony plate, and twisted in Thanus’s hand. And still the monster grappled with him.

  Burn the Maker’s eyes. He’d been stupid. He was a dead man.

  The flattened, stretched face that had been a man’s screamed at him as Luciro held him down on the stairs. “Die die die die die!”

  The head reared back, shaking, readying to strike.

  It took Thanus a few moments to realize what he had seen. A dark shape flew down and struck Luciro squarely on the back of his head. The monster’s whole body stiffened, stretched out over him, and then fell flat against him, a dead weight.

  The knife was still close to his hand. Thanus grabbed it swiftly, pushed out from under the thing, and then jabbed the knife down again and again until he found some place that it would go in, and then another, and then the same spot that Ethelia had driven the blade in, and then again and again and again until his hands and wrists were black with blood and his muscles were cramping.

  “It’s all right,” Ethelia said, suddenly at his side. “It’s dead. You killed…it.”

  He leaned back against the cool stone of the spire, panting, stars swimming in his vision. “It’s dead?”

  She nodded, putting her hands to either side of his face. “Yes, it’s dead. You killed it.”

  He nodded, swallowing, kicking at Luciro as if he expected him to jump up and attack again even though he was dead.

  “Well,” said Thanus, “You dropped a rock on his head.”

  She laughed nervously. “One of the stone statues from the next level of stairs up. It was hard to aim from up there.”

  “You did just fine.” Dear Maker, what was going on in this town? “Do you think the other Temporalists are the same thing as Luciro is?”

  She shook her head, again with that confidence that told him she knew more about this than she had a right to. “Not all of them. Some of them.”

  He nodded again. “Then we should leave town.”

  She smiled and took his hand to help him up. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  They left Luciro there on the stairs. Thanus had stabbed him a few more times for good measure, and then the two of them had made their way slowly through throngs of shocked townsfolk.

  No one tried to stop them this time. No one challenged them. If anything, more people disappeared inside homes and businesses than before. They had no idea that the grand power in the town, the man who had ruled them with an iron hand, had just been killed. All they knew was that a monster had rampaged through their streets and been killed by a foreign girl with dark skin and clear, crystal eyes and a barefoot man whom no one knew.

  A prince and a princess, had anyone known, had just killed their tyrant.

  The stable master was only too eager to get rid of Thanus. Prince or no, he was obviously bad for business. He had Hurricane saddled and readied within five minutes of his being asked for. And after that, they were up and on their way.

  Alarms rose in the town just as they were leaving the outskirts. The Temporalists were aware of what had happened, finally. Thanus spurred his stallion on to greater speed.

  He rode with Ethelia in front of him, sitting side saddle, resting her head on his chest. She shivered a few times as they rode as fast as Hurricane could carry the two of them, onward to Rikketh. The sun had already started to drop to the horizon, though, even before they left Damiste. They only made it a few miles before the oncoming dark made it necessary for them to stop for their own safety.

  They didn’t dare make a fire. The Temporalists might have come after them. So by mutual consent, they huddled together under a tree. The night was warm and breezy, much as the day had been, and they were more than comfortable out like this.

  That wasn’t to say that Thanus could have wished for his boots back. But that was a worry for tomorrow.

  They had let Hurricane wander, eating his fill of grass and wildflowers. The horse was happy. Thanus wished it could be that simple for him.

  “So,” he said to her after a long moment of comfortable silence. “You were telling me about how I could help a Princess of Crelth, before all this started.”

  “Princesses have many needs,” she said cryptically. “You must know that, Prince Thanus.”

  “Some wear their needs closer to the surface than others.”

  “I wear nothing at the moment except this ruined dress,” she told him, indicating the torn and ruined garment, worse now than it had been when Thanus first saw it.

  “You could…always take it off,” he offered.

  She laughed at him, her hands slipping very near the waist of his pants. “Spoken like a man.”

  “I should think you had figured out by now,” he said to her, “I am most certainly a man.”

  Now she let her hand slip down to feel over his crotch, outlining his stiffening cock. “I definitely noticed.”

  In a sudden rush, she pulled her dress up over her head, growling at it when it got momentarily caught. He helped her, to find she hadn’t lied. She had left her smallclothes back in the room at the Inn.

  He took a moment to examine her in the moonlight. Her body was round and firm and her dark skin was cast in silver tones where the moon painted her. Her breasts bounced tightly as she dove at him, tearing at his clothes, pulling away his pants, his smallclothes, his shirt, laying him naked beneath her.

  He was stiff and ready when she settled herself over his waist, pushing herself down onto him with a shuddering sigh and her hands gripping his chest to steady herself. Her nails bit into his flesh and he was pretty sure she drew blood. It was exquisite.

  As she moved on him, the night breezes played over their skin, exciting them even more, and the rush of the day caught up to them, and in mere moments she had brought herself to her edge and over, and as she built up to a second orgasm he felt himself swell and he pushed up into her just as she came down and they both released into each other, a moment of passion and understanding, a union of two bodies made one.

  Luciro had told him that she would forever trap him inside of her. He’d been right, in a way.

  Panting heavily, her body slick with perspiration as his was with sweat, she lay down on top of him, trapping him deep inside of her so that as he softened, she twitched with every movement. It made him want to take her again.

  She traced a line around his nipple and he stroked her hair, and for a time the world stopped. When she spoke into the silence, it was in a whisper.

  “You have to understand. My people are…unique among the peoples of the Far Realm. We are all women. We have been that way since the beginning of time, and we shall be that way until time ends. There are no males in Crelth. That is one of the many reasons we never step outside our borders, or let others in. That secret would be seen as a reason for any number of Kingdoms to attack us and try to take our lands.”

  Thanus lay there and listened to her, knowing he was hearing a truth that even the mightiest of scholars weren’t privileged to.

  “Luciro’s people have found out our secret. They hate women. All women. What is worse to someon
e like that than a race of women? The Temporalists are new to the Far Realm. They have existed for a decade or two, at most. But the thing that Luciro was, that is a race as old as my people. We have been sworn enemies since the first Aradachian crawled out of the swamps. They will always be our enemy. They will always hunt and kill us.”

  Thanus couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Then why are you here now? You must have known the dangers of coming to Damiste.”

  She smiled and made a noise between a laugh and a sigh. “I wasn’t coming here. I was taken on the road to Rikketh and forced to come here so that Luciro could make a point. Kill the woman who was leading men into temptation. Show women their place.”

  He couldn’t help but smile himself. “That didn’t work out so well for him.”

  “No. It didn’t at all, did it?” She stroked his cheek and looked into his eyes, even though he knew it was far too dark for her to read the thoughts brewing there.

  “But you still haven’t told me,” he said to her. “Other than the obvious need to keep safe from monsters like Luciro, what need do you have that I can fulfill?”

  Her smile was engaging as she took his hand and brought it to her belly. “You have already fulfilled it, my Prince. My people are all women. All of us. And though some of us find love among our own kind, that doesn’t help when it comes time to bear the next generation. We need men for that. So we go looking for the men who will be generous and kind and strong enough to pass those traits on to our children.

  “See, Luciro twisted the truth for his own needs. I was looking for a man to take to my bed. But not just any man. Someone like you. You, Thanus.”

  He held his hand to her stomach and understanding finally dawned on him. She had needed him to produce an heir. She had needed what only a man could give her, but not just any man.

  “I am honored, Princess Ethelia,” he said to her, reaching up to kiss her lips in the warm moonlit night.

  About Annette Archer

  Annette Archer's humble beginnings working retail brought her two things: a strong work ethic and an insatiable desire for escapism. Utilizing these traits as well as her degree in English and her natural power of the pen, Annette Archer has emerged as an exciting voice in the realm of romance fiction.

  Annette has published independently as well as teamed with publishers such as Steam Books Erotica & Romance. Her "Penny's Choice" series has earned her the attention of romance and fantasy readers alike.

  And more from Annette Archer:

  CAPTURED (Part of The Far Realm Chronicles)

  Naga'su is a proud member of a tribe of women warriors, and on an expedition in the desert lands of her people, she comes across a pale-skinned male soldier that she quickly makes her captive. Naaga'su finds her prisoner silly, lunkheaded… and oddly pleasurable. But can he be trusted?

  A REUNION OF SORTS

  Rachel may be beautiful, but she lives a lower-class life in Northampton. As she experiences life as a servant and has to turn down rich but shady suitors, Rachel looks back on and regrets having burned bridges with her lost love, Michael, and yearns for the day when they may meet again.

  Check out these and much more at steam-books.com!

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  BONUS

  Please enjoy a tease from another tale from 'The Far Realm Chronicles',

  THE WEIGHT OF LOVE

  by Annette Archer

  Later that day, back in her rooms, Carissa read deep into one of her favorite romance novels, a fictional account of a Crystal Elf falling in love with a human male. Such things didn’t normally happen, of course, the Crystal Elves being an old and proud race but also one of the most beautiful in the lands. The idea that one of them could fall in love with a lowly and plain human was ridiculous. Still, it caught her up in a way few of the other stories did. Maybe there was something there about someone falling in love because of who the person was, and not because of their appearance, that made the story so interesting to her.

  “No,” the Elven maid said to young Felonor. “I can not give myself to you. Not without losing the love of my father.”

  “Is there no way he could learn to love me, too, as he loves his only daughter?” Felonor asked hopefully.

  She thought about that for a long time and finally took his hand, bringing it up to rest on her breast. He could feel her heart thumping rapidly, feel the warmth of her flesh under his skin. “Perhaps it does not matter,” she said to him. “Perhaps all we need is this moment.”

  Her hands traced the line of his face down to his neck, and then she leaned forward to kiss the slope of his shoulder.

  Under his skilled hands her dress fell to the floor, exposing her bare, willing flesh. She longed for him to cup her ass like this—

  A loud banging on her door interrupted the vivid mental image that she’d been building. It took her a moment to reorient herself to the real world. When at last she took a deep breath and remembered she was unlovable Carissa, not the stunningly beautiful Crystal Elf in her story, she set the book aside and straightened her dress and wished for perhaps the millionth time that her body wasn’t quite so tightly defined in it.

  “Enter,” she called out to whoever it was knocking again on her door.

  The King himself, her father, walked into her rooms. There was a smile on his face and his staff with the lion’s head on it banged purposefully against her floor. “My dear Carissa, do you know what you’ve done?”

  She lowered her eyes and clenched her fists into the material of her dress. “I know I have embarrassed you, father. I won’t do it again. I promise. It was just that you needed to hear what I had to say and you were going to just send the man from Rikketh away with a deal that was bad for everyone.”

  He laughed and raised a hand as she paused for breath. “Nonsense! Oh, I was less than pleased to find you wandering down the back steps, to be sure. But let’s forget about that. You have saved me no small amount of money today. Not to mention, you kept a more powerful nation from taking advantage of us. Well done, my daughter. Well done.”

  Carissa beamed. She had never been praised by her father in this way before. He always thanked her for her efforts and complimented her talents, but for him to act so proud of her was a new experience for her.

  “Father, I…don’t know what to say.”

  “Don’t say anything. You just stay here and keep that mind of yours thinking on the issue. Let me know if anything else comes to you.”

  Her heart sank. “Stay here?”

  “Yes, of course! I need you sharp and focused. I’ll check in with you tomorrow before Philimor leaves to go back to Rikketh. You’ll let me know, right? Good. I’ll just be off, then.”

  “But…” How should she put this? “I had been hoping that perhaps I would be allowed out into public more often now. I mean, the secret is sure to get out that I was the one who came up with the treaty for Rikketh. Isn’t it? What does it matter now if I’m hidden away or seen by all?”

  He looked uncomfortable in the flickering light of her candles. “Oh, Carissa. My dear, dear Carissa. You know that we can’t allow that. Our reputation is built upon a certain image, after all. Your sisters fit that image. Our Kingdom fits that image. You… well, I’m afraid you only fit in as my advisor.” He spread his arms and shrugged helplessly. “That’s just the way it is, I’m afraid.”

  For just the barest moment, she felt anger sweep over her. It wasn’t fair! But then she sat back in her chair and lowered her head and mumbled a “Yes, Father.” She knew he was right.
She was just too, well, plain and ugly. Not her fault, perhaps, but not her father’s fault either. She was the way she was and everyone had to make the most of it.

  Her father turned to go and only as an afterthought turned back to her. He swept over to her with a sad expression of pity on his face and hugged her awkwardly. She lifted her arms to hug him back even as he was pulling away again. Her pudgy arms found only the empty air of her lonely room.

  “Now then,” he said, already at her door. “I will see you for supper tonight. Don’t be late.”

  “Actually, Father, I don’t think I’m very hungry. I’ll find something at breakfast.”

  He shrugged again. “Suit yourself. Good work today, Carissa.”

  The door closed behind him, and she was left to her own thoughts again. Surprisingly, those thoughts held no tears for her today. She had done the unthinkable. She had shown herself to not only her father and her sisters out in the bright light of day, but a total stranger as well. A good-looking male stranger, at that. She grinned as she remembered his face and his strong arms and his legs in those ridiculously colored leggings.

  The only thing that ruined the image was her sisters, Mourning and Eve, hanging off either of Philimor’s arms, almost like they were trying to possess him. Carissa sighed heavily. She realized the image was ruined with the two of them in it. It was oddly complete. Her sisters were both stunningly pretty. So was this Philimor. Pretty people like that belonged together.

  She went back to her book, only to have another knock interrupt her half a paragraph later.

  Now who could that be? She didn’t have any tutoring sessions scheduled for today. There were no treaties or contracts to look over.

  “Come in?” she called, uncertainly.

  The door did not open. Instead, there was an odd noise of the handle rattling and something heavy flumping against the door.

  Curious, not at all worried that something bad would happen to her this far into her father’s castle, Carissa got up from her chair and slowly went to her door, opening it wide.