Fern's Wings_A reverse harem novel

by Bea Paige

  “Mihr…” I whisper. My voice is unrecognisable as my own.

  I hear him loosen a breath, before he wraps his arms around me and holds me until my shaking subsides.

  “I’m sorry, Fern. Ether has been our leader for so long that, despite my reservations, I believed he was doing the right thing. That’s not an excuse. You’re right, Gabe or I should have told you, we should have persuaded Ether to tell you. Please, don’t blame us for wanting to protect you… don’t blame Ether, he cares about you. I know he doesn’t show it as easily, but he does. Believe me, if we’d truly thought Dani was in danger we would have done something to help. Ether was the one who got Blake out of the castle. Ether was the one who risked his own life to help Accacia and her men. He is honourable, if sometimes misguided.”

  “But, how can you be certain that Dani isn’t in any danger now? I’ve not heard from her since we spoke that first time. That was over a week ago.”

  “Like Gabe said, they could well be in wolf form. I doubt she’d be able to communicate with you if that’s the case. Not to mention the fact that Blake is a force to be reckoned with, Fern. He survived weeks of torture. There are very few who can sustain such injury and not break, but he did survive for her, for Dani. Look, even Dani told you she was okay. If she wasn’t, if she needed help, it would have been the perfect opportunity to ask for you for it. Do you not trust your friend?”

  There is sense to Mihr’s argument, I realise that, but it doesn’t make it any easier for me to take. “What about Edrin? The other wolf-shifters, Queen Adrielle? What about them? Dani’s in Ever Vale, in immediate danger, if not from the man who kidnapped her, then from the Queen herself.”

  “Perhaps, but Queen Adrielle’s wrath is aimed at Clan Lux and us for betraying her more than it is at Blake for getting away. Why do you think she sent Abanthe after us? We are in imminent danger. You are because of that,” he adds gently.

  “So, what do we do about Abanthe? We can’t hide in Utero forever. At some point, we have to deal with him.”

  Mihr sighs heavily. “We will, but the aim is to get you to the point where you can fly first. We are safe here while we do that.”

  Deep down I do understand why they withheld all the information they knew. I understand that Ether’s intentions were to keep me safe and free from worry and it was probably unfair of me to accuse him of withholding the truth for his own good. The reasonable side of me gets that, and yet it’s still hard to accept. My heart aches a little at the fury I threw at them all.

  “Don’t worry about Ether or Gabe. Your anger was understandable. They’ll get over it,” Mihr says kindly, knowing exactly what I’m thinking. I look up at him, my anger dissolving a little.

  His hair lifts in the breeze and I reach up to brush the fallen strands out of his eyes. He catches my fingers in his hand and presses a kiss against my knuckles.

  “I’m sorry we didn’t tell you the full story about your mother either. That wasn’t intentional, just bad timing.”

  “That part, to find out what my mother did, it upset me, yes, but it was just the icing on the cake…”

  “Icing on the cake? You have strange sayings, you know that?” Mihr laughs lightly.

  I ignore his mirth and continue. “I can’t change what my mother did or condone it. I can’t even understand why she chose to take that course of action, given what she must’ve known. I can only help to undo it now.”

  Mihr rolls the pad of his thumb over my ring, looking thoughtful.

  “Her actions, the Queen’s, everything that has happened since, has led to this moment. You were a baby when the curse was cast, and I an adult. Had the curse not happened we would never have viewed each other the same way. So, as much as we’ve all hated this life we’ve led, it has brought us to you now. That, at least, is something I am grateful for.”

  Mihr takes my face in his palms and brings his lips to mine. He kisses me gently, a brushing of lips over my own. It’s a completely different kiss than the one he gave me at The Falls. Part of me wants to let go; the other part still feels all kind of angry and out of sorts. That part stops me from leaning into him further. I pull out of his arms. “Mihr, will you do something for me?” I ask.

  “Anything.”

  I look out across the vast sky and the billowing clouds that tumble over one another and feel the edges of my wings lift a little. A trail of need, of crackling energy, prickles my skin. It’s a different kind of need to what I’ve experienced these last few days. It’s not sex or connection I need right now, it’s something different.

  Freedom calls to me.

  The freedom to stretch my wings, and not feel pulled down by gravity.

  The freedom to be who I am now.

  The freedom to not just accept my fate, but to embrace it.

  I arch my back, rolling my shoulders simultaneously, the action snapping my wings out behind me. A smile pulls up Mihr’s lips.

  “Will you teach me how to fly?”

  Mihr steps up beside me. “That’s why I brought you here, Fern. You’re ready. You’ve been ready for a couple of days now.” His smile widens as he holds out his hand.

  “So, will you?” I ask, taking his hand in mine.

  “It would be my honour.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “So how do we do this?” I ask, stepping towards the edge of the rock. I don’t feel afraid, just uncertain.

  “What you don’t do is take a running jump and hope for the best, like you did back at the temple,” Mihr says. Though his voice is light there is an edge of anger there still.

  “That was stupid,” I admit.

  “It was a little.”

  “I’ve seen you all leap into the air and your wings take flight. I assumed it would be the same for me. That they would just work.”

  “I’m afraid it doesn’t work that way at all. I know you’ve experienced what it’s like to have your wings caressed. Have you ever wondered why you’re able to feel sensation through your wings, Fern? There is a reason for that.”

  “Yes, I have actually. When I first met you all, I assumed the feathers on your wings were like hair. I don’t feel any sensation when someone touches the strands of my hair. I thought it would be the same with your wings, with my wings. It came as a surprise that it wasn’t.”

  Mihr walks behind me and places a gentle hand on the curved bone of my wing. I am reminded of the moment I shared with Ether, how he had climaxed by his wings being caressed alone. My body immediately reacts. A warm sensation zings under his touch and immediately heads to the warm spot between my legs. He steps closer.

  “Every single feather, every frond, feels sensation,” Mihr says, trailing his fingers downwards over my wings. “Every millimetre responds to touch.”

  I draw in a sharp breath as his hands grip the bone projecting out from my back, squeezing firmly. It doesn’t hurt me, not at all. In fact, it has the opposite effect. I press my legs closer together, trying to find friction where there is none.

  “Mihr…” His name comes out, breathless.

  “I can make you come over and over again, just by knowing how to caress your wings the right way,” he murmurs into my ear, the heat of his breath tickling the fine hairs covering my skin.

  I close my eyes against the sensation that is thundering through my chest, my veins, my heart. I’m about to throw myself into Mihr’s arms and be damned to learning how to fly, when he steps away from me.

  “These wings are a double-edged sword,” he says, moving to stand in front of me. I swallow hard, trying to get myself in check.

  “They give us freedom,” he continues. “They allow us to feel exquisite bliss, but they’re also a permanent reminder of what we are, what Queen Adrielle made us. I both abhor them because of what they signify and adore them for what they give me.”

  “Where are you going with this?” I ask, trying to rein myself in. In less than half a minute, Mihr has me tied up in knots once again. I’m supposed to be learning how t
o fly, for crying out loud, and all I can think about is Mihr taking me in his arms and fucking me.

  Mihr’s eyes snap to mine and he steps towards me.

  “My point is, Fern, you have to be aware of every feather when you fly. Each and every one has the power to lift you up, but they also have the power to drag you down. You must never assume that your wings will carry you just because you have faith or you hope they will. Hope and faith are both wonderful things, but when it comes to flying they’re useless.”

  Mihr steps backwards away from me so that he’s balancing precariously on the edge of the rocky ledge we’re standing on. Behind him his wings spread out wide, fluttering in the light wind that has kicked up since we’ve been standing here. He tips his head to the side, studying my face.

  “The first thing you have to do is let yourself go. You need to feel everything.”

  “I am aware. I do feel everything…”

  Mihr nods his head. “You are very empathetic, that’s absolutely true, but I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about physically, not emotionally. You need to feel every muscle, every inch of skin, every single feather. Once you do that, once you tap into the power of your body, you’ll be able to fly and it will be as natural as breathing.”

  Mihr steps back off the ledge. I expect him to fall, at least a little bit, but he doesn’t. He hovers in the air, his wings barely beating.

  “I’ve been doing this a long, long time, Fern. I’ve wrapped myself up in the silence of my own body to protect myself from the horrors I’ve committed. Refusing to speak, to sing, to laugh or cry, to feel. I’ve been mute, functioning only to get through the day.”

  Mihr flaps his wings, sending a current of air over me, but he remains hovering just a few feet away. I want to go to him, to fall into his arms, but for whatever reason I don’t. Perhaps it’s the residual hurt from the fight, perhaps it’s because, for the first time, Mihr is really opening up to me. Either way, I remain where I am and listen.

  “Flying for me is a freedom unlike any other. It releases me from the confines of the day, from my thoughts, from my actions. This place is rarely visited anymore, except by me. This floating mountain here above Utero, above the landscape that has become our home, is where I feel most at ease. It’s where I come to just be me. I let go of all the baggage, the dark thoughts, the utter despair. Up here I’m just Mihr. I’m not a Dark Angel, I’m not a Death Bringer, I’m me.”

  He scrapes a hand through his wind tousled hair, granting me a view of his defined stomach muscles as his top rises. I snatch my eyes away, forcing myself to remain focused on his face.

  “To truly be able to fly, Fern, you must accept what you are now. It doesn’t mean you have to like it. I haven’t liked who I am for a very long time, but I’ve accepted these wings. No matter what Queen Adrielle intended when she cast her curse, these wings are a gift, and I view them as such.”

  Mihr beats his wings once, twice, three times until he is hovering in the air twelve feet away from me. He crooks his fingers, motioning for me to step closer to the edge.

  “You can either choose to take a leap of faith and hope that you don’t plummet to the ground, or you can embrace your wings and fly with me. What’s it to be, Fern?” Mihr asks.

  I step forward, my feet no more than a few centimetres from the edge, and lock eyes with Mihr. He waits. Patient as always.

  For a long while we just observe one another. There is no communication other than the calm acceptance of the moment and what it signifies. Once I fly, we both know there is no going back. If I truly accept my wings, I know I must accept both the good and the bad that they represent, even if I do not like it.

  Flashes of my life before this moment crash against me. A jumble of events, some happy, some sad, but all of them leading to this point now. I stand on the mountain ledge and remember it all…

  A barefoot child running across a freshly mowed lawn in summer.

  My dark-haired, kind-eyed father lifting me up in the air and spinning me around and around.

  Playing hide and seek with my best friend Dani at her house filled with love, laughter and smiles.

  My mother’s stiff arms barely holding me whilst I cried for my father.

  The absolute quiet where only my thoughts were loud.

  All the empty years when my mother refused to touch me or barely give me a smile.

  Whispered words and silent voices calling me names. Names that cut me to the bone, that scarred my heart and hurt my soul.

  The beautiful mournful voice that proceeded death. The voice I both loved and loathed.

  Gabe’s voice, a voice I would listen to endlessly now.

  The moment I delivered my first baby, its bleating cries the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard.

  The lonely hours of quiet.

  A dark-winged angel holding me against his chest, cold wind prickling my skin as we soar high above the ground.

  Seeing life leave baby Blakely’s eyes.

  Death, so much death.

  Feeling loved, adored, worshipped in the arms of an angel.

  All these memories rush through my mind as I stand on the precipice of an unknown future.

  “Fern?”

  I catch Mihr’s eye as the last memory fades, replaced instead with a man who lives in my present, in my future.

  He cocks his head, then raises his hands. “You’ve shown us you’re strong enough to carry the weight of your wings. Are you ready to fly with me?”

  In this moment, as the pink of Utero dims, I know what my answer is.

  Rolling my shoulders, I close my eyes and relax my breathing. I concentrate on the sound of the wind as it rushes past my ears. I concentrate on the weight of my wings as they stretch out behind me, I concentrate on every muscle that’s pulled taut and holding me upright. I become more aware of my wings, not just the heaviness or the dull ache they still cause, but also of their form. In my mind’s eye I can picture their shape, can see how each feather overlaps the one beneath it. I press harder, my mind filling with recognition as every feather and what they represent is etched into my heart. Slowly but surely, feather by feather, I accept my wings.

  I accept my past. I accept my present and my future.

  This is who I am, who I’ve always been; an angel, Fern, me.

  I twitch the furthest feather, the one that I’d held under Ether’s neck not so long ago. It flexes in response, pulling a smile from my lips. I might have had control of them before, but it’s more than that now. Much more. Gradually, I push away the fear of what these wings represent and open my heart to the possibility of what they can provide; freedom in flight, bliss in physical touch and belonging in the arms of my angels.

  Mihr’s right, they are a gift and one I’m positive Queen Adrielle had never intended.

  Her curse traps the clans. It confines them to the dark like Clan Lux, or to another form like Clan Spiritus. It holds them prisoner in the Forbidden forest like Clan Terra and within the Shadowlands like Clan Vitae. I don’t know enough about Clan Aequalis, but I’m guessing they are trapped one way or another too.

  And I refuse to be trapped.

  I refuse to live in fear.

  Queen Adrielle may rule with an iron fist and darkness in her heart, but I don’t have to be her prisoner.

  I won’t be her prisoner.

  My eyes snap open and I meet Mihr’s gaze. Behind him, the pink glow of Utero fills the sky. A sky so vast that my heart trips not with fear, but with excitement.

  “You ready?” he repeats.

  “Yes, I’m ready.”

  Taking a step forward, I leap into the air and this time I do not fall.

  Chapter Twenty

  Abanthe

  “Please, don’t hurt me…” the old woman begs.

  She’s kneeling on the floor, her hands pressed together as though praying for a miracle. I laugh, and even to my own ears it sounds like the earth cracking open.

  “What are you?” she stutters. Te
ars stream down her wrinkled cheeks, her bottom lip wobbles just like a child’s.

  “I’m your deepest fear. I’m pain like you couldn’t even imagine. I’m Abanthe, Queen Adrielle’s darkest knight. I’m your worst fucking nightmare,” I say, stepping towards her.

  She looks up at me, a whimper of fear escaping her pinched lips.

  “What do you want from me?”

  “What do I want from you?” I laugh again, and my arousal thickens as her body quakes in fear. It’s the fear that turns me on, the power, not the bag of bones before me. She covers her ears and bows lower, her forehead pressed to the piss-soaked carpet beneath her.

  “Please, don’t hurt me,” she repeats, her voice muffled against the floor.

  I crouch down and place my hand on the back of her neck, caressing it with my blackened fingers. She flinches, the gagging noises she makes angering me. Grabbing the back of her neck, I yank her upwards and twist her head painfully to the side. Her eyes bulge in their sockets, her chest heaving with fear. I loosen my hold, not wanting her to die until I’ve got what I want.

  “Please,” she whispers.

  “You can beg all you want. You can scream, cry, fucking shit yourself, for all I care. I will do what I want regardless of your pathetic attempts at appealing to my better nature.”

  “I’ll do anything you want, just don’t hurt me,” she pants.

  “Anything?”

  She nods her head frantically, then raises her shaking hands to her sweat-soaked blouse and begins to undo the buttons of her shirt.

  I laugh hard and hit her even harder. Her head snaps back with the force of the blow, and I think I’ve finally broken her. Only this woman, as feeble as she seems, is stronger than I expect.

  “You’re evil, sent from the very Devil himself,” she spits, her head snapping back round. The rage in her eyes is more powerful than any words out of her mouth and even though I admire her for her tenacity, nothing will help her now.