Baron, a Reverse Harem Fantasy Romance Series

by HP Mallory

  “He has his reasons,” I respond.

  “We all have our reasons,” she spits back at me, anger in her gaze. It’s not an expression I’m accustomed to seeing on her and it confuses me for a moment. I study her and find her flushing cheeks quite comely.

  “Perhaps Dragan has more reasons than most,” I offer as I pull my gaze away from her. She truly is a stunning creature. Such a shame she houses a demon within that… curvy fortress. “He was held captive and used as a sex slave by the Succubae queen and her daughters.”

  “I’m aware,” she grumbles.

  I nod, feeling the need to drive home my point. As I glance down at her cleavage that protrudes over the top of her corset, I feel the need to drive other things home as well. “Years of seeing nothing but the ceiling of his bedroom as those… demons… ruled his realm and used his body in any way they deemed fit has changed his outlook.”

  “I don’t know why I’m even discussing this with you,” she says as she turns her head and looks at the forest that neighbors the path on either side of us.

  “Because I’m here,” I answer. “And I’m the only one you can talk to, save that foolish sprite.”

  She shrugs. “I’m sure you agree with Dragan.”

  It’s my turn to shrug. “I believe he’s playing his cards as close to his chest as he can and were I in his position, I would do the same.”

  “Well, you aren’t in his position and you’re still doing the same.”

  I cock my head to the side. “Trust needs to be earned, not given.”

  She nods. “Then you still don’t trust me?” As she asks the words, she looks up at me, hope appearing in her eyes.

  “No,” I answer honestly. The hope fades as she nods and appears sad. “But, suffice to say,” I continue, feeling irritated with myself that I’ve hurt her. “My dislike for you appears to be lessening.”

  She looks over at me and a smile haunts her lips. “I can always count on you for your honesty, Cambion.”

  I nod. “Returning to the subject of Dragan for a moment,” I start.

  “You don’t have to do this, you know?” she interrupts.

  “Do what?”

  “Talk about this with me,” she finishes. “It’s clear you and I aren’t friends and I’m sure you’d rather think about… other subjects.”

  “While both your points are valid,” I begin. “Such is the nature of being a leader.”

  “A leader?”

  I nod. “As I am in charge of our rather ragtag group, so I have to listen to the squabbles between you and lend my wise advice.” Her smile deepens and I find myself returning her smile even as I don’t realize I am. I clear my throat and return to the subject that seems to cause her the most discord—the gargoyle. “What you went through with Variant was hard,” I begin and capture her attention instantly. She nods and drops her attention to the ground again. “Now imagine experiencing something similar but spread over a much longer period of time. Imagine decades of being unable to control your body, of being debased until you’re nothing more than a shadow of your former self.”

  “I understand all that,” she says as she raises her attention. “I really do. But, why doesn’t he just talk to me?”

  “Was it easy for you to talk to me?” I ask with a shrug. “I daresay you still regret the fact that I know what happened in Variant’s bedchamber?”

  She takes a deep breath. “I didn’t really have a choice in the matter. You saw a vision of what happened, and you forced me to explain.”

  I nod. “While this is true, the point still remains the same. It was your secret to keep, just as Lamia and her daughters is Dragan’s secret to keep.”

  “I understand,” she says, sounding rather dejected.

  “Give Dragan time,” I offer, and she looks at up at me in surprise. “You might not resemble Lamia physically, but there are similarities between the two of you that even I can’t deny.”

  She turns color as if I’ve struck a nerve. “Like what?”

  I shrug as I try to place my finger on the pulse of my argument. “The aura of seduction that surrounds you at all times.”

  “Aura of seduction?” she repeats and then frowns up at me. “I don’t even know what that means.”

  “You have a magnetic pull, Eilish. And it’s constantly reaching out towards every one of us.”

  “What does it feel like?”

  “Hmm,” I puzzle the question for a moment or two. “It feels like we are both magnets of opposite polarities. And no matter what I do, my body naturally wants to gravitate towards you, like the north pole of a magnet immediately attracting the south pole of another magnet.”

  “Interesting,” she says.

  I nod. “It felt quite the same way with Lamia—like I was always fighting my attraction to her. My guard always had to be up, my shield in place, because if I forgot myself for even a moment, she would draw me in.”

  “That sounds… exhausting.”

  I nod. “I remember the night Dragan and I first saw her. Variant had already revealed his true colors and the three of us were in the process of waging war against him. It was on the battle field that Lamia waltzed right into our camp where we were stationed in the mountains. How she found us, I will never know,” I continue as I lose myself to the memory that returns with such a vengeance. It’s hard to believe it occurred more than one hundred years earlier. “Lamia offered to help us turn the tides of the war. She told Dragan that only he could stop Variant, and in doing so, she appealed to his ego that was already inflated.”

  “But she betrayed you,” Eilish says, as though she’s already familiar with the way this story ends.

  “She betrayed Dragan, yes. And, in doing so, she was the reason we lost the war. Dragan, I’m quite certain, has never forgiven himself.” Then I turn to face her. “So, you can see why he has such a difficult time where you’re concerned.”

  “I see why all of you have such a difficult time where I’m concerned,” she answers. “Except for Revenant.”

  “Except for Baron,” I correct her. I’m damn tired of calling the vampire by his adopted name. It’s tedious and unfamiliar and it vexes me.

  “Why?”

  “Because Baron has no memories of Lamia. He doesn’t understand the costs we suffered at her hands.”

  “Or maybe he just realizes that Lamia and I are nothing alike.”

  “You are both,” I start.

  “Variant is angel,” she interrupts. “If there were any angels left, would you fault them for the fact that their sovereign is corrupt and crazy?”

  She makes a good point. “Angels have always been allies to the Fae.”

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “After seeing the destruction and death accomplished at Variant’s hands, I am aware of just how powerful angels can be,” I offer.

  She quirks a smile at me and her eyes narrow. “You’re not doing a very good job of avoiding the question, Cambion.” She takes a breath. “Do you judge all angels based on the acts of Variant?”

  I’m quiet for a few seconds as I inwardly curse her. “No.”

  “Then how can you blame me for Lamia’s actions?” she fires back.

  I swallow. “I suppose I can’t.”

  THIRTEEN

  Eilish

  The Forest in the Sky

  The enormous walls surrounding Variant’s fortress tower over us as though they were designed to keep out titans. As I stand there, staring up at them, I gulp down my anxiety, but it does little to pacify my nerves.

  Our plan makes me edgy, edgier than I’ve felt lately. But the anxiety within me has little to do with our impending future and more to do with the Succubus in me. She’s demanding and has been. I can feel her need building up and it’s affecting me—making me impatient, crabby and exhausted. Even though what passed between Pyre and me was sexy and remembering it makes my knees weak, it did little to take the edge off my hunger.

  I need sex and I need it soon.
The truth is that I can think of little else—even in the face of the possibility of our pending doom. The Succubus has a one-track mind—and the only thing on her mind is satiating herself. The wetness that pools between my legs each time I glance at Baron, Dragan, or Cambion causes a flush to blossom on my cheeks.

  I see their nostrils flare as they catch the scent of my need. It affects them—they seem surlier and shorter with one another and both Dragan and Cambion appear to be doing everything in their power to avoid me. But just as they can scent me in the air, I too can scent their arousal on the wind—as potent as my own.

  Baron smells of raw iron and clean sweat. Dragan’s is a heady aroma like rain on hot concrete. But Cambion’s scent is what drives my hunger wild. It’s just so different from the other two. The earthy notes of sandalwood, ash, and hearth-fire mixed with something like the clean scent of soap characterizes Cambion. It’s a scent I could recognize anywhere and when he’s near me, I wish I could just close my eyes and inhale him.

  I don’t know what to think of Cambion—sometimes he’s almost… nice? And other times, he skewers me with his comments. And as to the subject of me watching Variant and Anona… I’m surprised Cambion kept the truth to himself. I didn’t think he would. Yes, he surprises me and I’m not sure how to act around him. During the times he’s actually being congenial, I’m always afraid I’ll say something that will send him off in the other direction.

  And regarding Variant—he’s a subject I like to ponder less than the subject of Cambion’s changing moods. Last night, while I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, listening to Dragan snoring while Cambion muttered in his meditation and Baron managed to remain completely quiet, I found myself in the vision state and I dreamed of Variant inside me. The dream was so vivid, I could actually feel the stretch of his claim.

  Now, as I remember those images, they cause bile to crawl up my throat, but even so, I can’t stop picturing Variant above me, pushing inside me as our eyes meet and he entwines his fingers into mine. Eventually, the image of Variant fades into Cambion.

  I feel my cheeks flame once again when the memories of the dream come back to me. Cambion wasn’t the only one in my bed—Baron and Dragan were there as well. I feel myself flush with a mixture of shame and embarrassment. But I can’t deny the truth all the same. I want to feel them... all of them and all at the same time.

  I need all of them.

  Dragan turns and arches his brow at me. My steps falter as I suddenly wonder if he somehow knows what I’ve been thinking about, but then I realize there’s no way he could.

  “We should talk,” he says, but he refuses to look at me.

  “About what?” I demand.

  His jaw grows tighter. “About… things.”

  “Right now?” I ask as I then look up at the castle that looms in front of us, beyond the walls that keep us out.

  “No, obviously not right now,” Dragan grinds out. He’s in a bad mood. Fouler than usual. “Later. After… this.”

  “If there is an after,” I say and then sigh.

  “You can’t think like that,” he spits back and there’s concern in his eyes. “There’s always an after.”

  I don’t want his words; I think to myself. I want something else.

  I force my eyes to remain on his as I try to push the Succubus back down again. She’s getting more and more difficult to control.

  My skin feels too hot and a bead of sweat trickles down my spine, getting trapped in my corset. Dragan licks his lips and I want them on my body. I want to feel them kissing down my chest and teasing me until I’m breathless.

  He reaches out and grips both my hips, dwarfing them with his enormous hands. Then he looks down at his hands as though they’ve betrayed him. “You have to turn whatever it is you’re doing off,” he rumbles, but there’s not as much anger in his voice as there was. He appears to be fighting this connection between us as much as I am.

  “I’m not doing anything.”

  “Yes, you are. Without realizing it, maybe,” he grits his teeth. “We… we need to focus,” he continues and as I watch him, a bead of sweat breaks out along his forehead. I notice that his hands are still around my waist. “I can’t concentrate on our… plan when all I can think about is…”

  What? I want to ask but I don’t. The answer is already obvious—he can’t stop thinking about me, my body, pushing himself into my body.

  “I’m not trying to do anything,” I whisper, but I feel strangely victorious at the same time. “I just… I just need… something.” My voice softens and I can’t stop staring at his lips.

  “Something?” he repeats as he takes a step closer to me and he tightens his hold around my waist.

  “You,” I finish while I fight the desire to reach out and touch his face, his cheeks, his lips. I want to force my fingers into his mouth so I can feel the hot wetness inside. I can see the same fight echoing in his eyes.

  He shakes his head, drops his hands from around my waist as he takes a step back and snarls, “Save it for the guards.”

  My stomach drops at his callous words and the air catches in my throat.

  What does he think I am? And does he really believe I’m going to have sex with the guards? How could he say such a thing?

  I miss his touch as soon as it leaves me. The muscles of his back clench and stretch the fabric of his tunic. My mouth waters for a taste of his skin. Resisting Dragan would be much easier if I didn’t already know what it feels like to have him thrusting inside me.

  Fingers snap in front of my face and Flumph smirks obnoxiously.

  “How we gonna get in?” he asks as he buzzes around everyone’s heads and they all respond by trying to swat him.

  Cambion pinches the bridge of his nose and appears to be in the middle of deep thoughts. Dragan begins pacing up and down alongside the twenty-foot stone walls, while Baron stares up the length of the section closest to us and shakes his head.

  “Flumph should fly up and use his sleep bolts on the Sentries guarding the wall on this side,” he says. “If Flumph clears the Sentries, we can climb up and over the wall. We’ll have to move quickly, but it’s possible.”

  “It’s a risky idea,” Cambion starts.

  “But it’s the only one anyone’s presented,” Baron interrupts him.

  Dragan nods. “I say we give it a try.”

  “Cambion?” Baron asks.

  The elf is quiet for a few seconds but then simply nods.

  “Ain’t no one gonna ask me fer my opinion?” Flumph demands.

  “No,” they all respond in unison.

  “Well, fuckin’ easy fer you say ‘cause ain’t none o’ youze riskin’ yer asses,” he responds.

  “It’s just a matter of time before all of us start risking our… asses,” I inform him.

  Flumph shakes nervously but then nods and tightens his grip around the strange crossbow implement Noni gifted him. I lift him above my head as high as I can, and he flies up to the wall. Each of us holds our breaths as we watch him disappear behind the curve of one of the walls. I feel my heart hammering in my chest as I hope he’ll accomplish his task and stay alive in the process.

  One of the soldiers falls over the edge of the wall, dropping to his death, maybe thirty feet below us. A small, narrow dart sticks out from his neck where Flumph shot him. The sound the soldier’s body makes on impact is horrifying and I doubt I’ll ever be able to clear it from my memory. I watch as Baron at once starts out for the fallen soldier and begins to strip him of his armor.

  “What are you doing?” I ask incredulously.

  “This isn’t part of the plan,” Cambion adds.

  “Backup plan,” Baron replies as he pulls the stolen armor over his own clothing. Baron’s face is now concealed behind the soldier’s helmet. “If we get stopped at any point, I’ll play the part of Variant’s minion.”

  No one argues because Baron’s idea is a clever one. A few minutes later Flumph sticks his head over the side of the wall, bre
athing heavily. His smile is huge and proud.

  “These dickheads are faster than they look,” the sprite explains. “This whole side o’ the wall be clear though. So climb yer fat asses up an’ don’t bother thankin’ me none ‘cause we ain’t got time.”

  “Wait,” Cambion starts and we all look back at him.

  “It seems we’ve forgotten Eilish’s costume,” he says as his eyes settle on me.

  “Her costume?” Dragan repeats.

  “Did we or did we not agree that Eilish is to be cloaked in the mantle of a scullery maid?” Cambion asks with irritation.

  “Right,” I say with a quick nod.

  “Hurry,” Dragan adds.

  Cambion faces me and narrows his eyes as he holds his hands up, palms facing me. Then he closes his eyes and his lips move as he weaves an enchantment around me that feels like armies of ants marching up and down my skin. It’s maybe another few seconds until he opens his eyes and drops his hands. When I glance down at myself, I notice I’m now dressed in a light blue and white frock with an attached apron and white stockings. I feel my hair and realize it’s pulled back into a bun at the nape of my neck and there’s a peculiar little hat perched on my head.

  “Carry on,” Cambion says as he glances at me and then nods at the wall.

  I grip the stones on the wall and pull myself up, one brick at a time. Dragan climbs behind me. His arm brushes my thigh and my knees buckle as the Succubus rears up again. Really, she’s becoming exhausting. He grips my leg with one hand and pushes me back up.

  “Get ahold of yourself,” he snaps.

  “I’m sorry,” I answer and then flush.

  “We can’t afford for you to lose control now,” he continues.

  “I… I need to feed,” I answer, hoping he’ll understand how tough this is on me—how it’s affecting me on every level. As it is, I feel so exhausted, I can barely move. And the thought of having to climb the rest of this wall is something I don’t want to think about, let alone do.

  The feeling of his palm against my leg is almost too much. “Move, Eilish. Now.”

  He pushes me up a bit and I scramble to find security on the stones. Cambion reaches the top first and then clears his throat as his eyes find Dragan and me. He watches us both with interest, although I’m not sure why. I’m nearly at the top when I glance up and see Baron leaning over the top of the wall and offering me a helping hand. I accept it and he pulls me up the rest of the way. My arms burn from exertion.