Sever the Crown: Vampire Reverse Harem Complete Series

by Mysti Parker

  My stomach slid all the way to my knees at the sound of Queen Ravana’s voice. The rest of me almost did, too, when I saw who was on the screen.

  Oh. Fuck.

  I knew that face well. I’d taken pictures of her and sent them to her over-protective brother.

  Ashe’s sister. Now tied to a chair and gagged on the main Southern Clan news channel and Queen Ravana standing next to her with a smug smile.

  Wren slapped her hand over her mouth and then flicked her huge, watery eyes to Ashe.

  He just stood there, frozen.

  “…because Jessica herself turned over irrefutable evidence that she conspired in Devin’s murder,” Queen Ravana was saying, “I sentence her to public execution by fire.”

  Wren whispered, “No, please, no,” tears pouring down her face. Next to her, Zac touched her shoulder and bowed his head.

  Tucking a stray blonde strand behind her ear, Ravana leaned close. Her fangs gleamed like a tigress ready to deliver the killing bite. “I’ll give you one final statement to make your peace before you meet your maker.” She yanked the gag from Jessica’s mouth.

  On screen, Jessica’s face crumpled. “Ashe. I’m so sorry. I love you.”

  She was soaking wet. It didn’t take me long to realize why. She’d been drenched in gasoline.

  Ashe staggered back a few steps like he’d just been slammed in the gut.

  “Let this be a lesson to you out there,” Queen Ravana continued, her smooth, flawless face contrasting with the cold cruelty in her eyes. “No one crosses me or my sister—rest her soul—or any part of her or my royal harem. If you’re even thinking about it, this is what happens. To you. To anyone who helps you.”

  She produced a match and lit it, took a few steps back, and tossed it nonchalantly at Jessica.

  Ponytail scrambled to turn off the phone, but it didn’t matter. It was long enough for us to see the flare of an instant inferno. And to hear the beginning of an unholy scream.

  We didn’t need to see or hear the rest, because I was sure we felt it shake all the way into our bones and fester like a sickness.

  Shocked silence ticked on for several seconds. Then Ashe let out a gutted wail I would never, ever forget.

  The sound of guilt. The sound of loss.

  The sound that called for violent retribution.

  Now on to Book Three...

  OBSESSION

  Sever the Crown Book Three

  MYSTI PARKER

  LINDSEY R. LOUCKS

  Chapter One

  Wren

  Until now, I never thought I’d hear another sound that could carve itself into my nightmares like my mother’s death throes the night she was murdered.

  I was wrong.

  The few seconds we’d heard Jessica’s screams as fire engulfed her were horrible enough, but it was my first mate’s gut-wrenching wail that brought me to my knees beside him. Ashe, who’d tried so hard to protect his only sister, crumpled into a heap on the floor. His cries echoed off the walls of the cavernous airport hangar. I held to his quaking shoulders as he wept. There was nothing else I could do. If I knew where to find Ravana, I wouldn’t hesitate to go and rip her head from her shoulders.

  Vivian sobbed and clung to Zac, shaking her latte so badly, it splashed some out on his shirt. He patted her back awkwardly, taking the drink from her hands before she spilled it all on him.

  Rage balled my fingers into rock-hard fists. I felt as helpless as the night my mother died. And even guiltier. Ashe wouldn’t be suffering like this if it wasn’t for me.

  Perhaps that realization finally broke through his initial shock. With a slow, stiff movement, Ashe extended his arm and pushed me away from him. He scrambled to his feet, covering his face with one hand and holding the other out as a warning to keep my distance. The witch, warlocks, Vivian, and Zac all stepped back, exchanging helpless glances.

  “I-I have to go to her. I have to—” Ashe stammered.

  “We don’t know where they are,” Marlowe said softly, “and it’s too late. I’m sorry.”

  “She’s my sister!” He spun around, his eyes wet and ringed with red. “I can’t just leave her there to… It may have been staged. Ravana may have set it all up to draw us out. I’ll go. I’ll give myself up in exchange for Jessica.”

  Though I wouldn’t put such a cruel ruse past Ravana, I knew in my heart that the execution had been real.

  “Ashe,” I whispered as I stood, shaking my head. “She’s gone.”

  “No!” He pointed his finger at me. “You’re wrong.”

  “She’s not wrong,” Charles said gently, with no hint of the animosity that had defined their relationship. “I’m so sorry, Ashe.”

  “No, you’re not. You’ve wanted me out of the way since day one.”

  “Ashe, please.” I reached for him.

  “Stop! I can’t…” His voice broke as he turned his back on me. “I need to be alone, to think, to…I don’t know.”

  Marlowe approached him. “We have an underground bunker here. It’s safe, with plenty of room for everyone to have privacy. I’ll take you there where you can sort things out and clear your head until you figure out your next move. Okay?”

  Ashe was silent for a couple seconds before he gave a small nod. Marlowe looked back over his shoulder at me before leading Ashe to what looked like a solid concrete wall. He pressed a spot on it, a small square panel slid open, and something that looked like binoculars emerged. He lowered his eyes onto the lenses then waited. A big section of concrete swung out, revealing a dark passage. They walked inside, where fluorescent lights clicked on in sequential order the farther they went.

  Every ounce of my being wanted to follow Ashe, even though I knew I had to give him some distance. But as he disappeared down a set of metal stairs, it felt as though he was dragging part of my soul along with him.

  The witch approached me slowly and cleared her throat. “Queen Wren.”

  The name made me wince.

  “What?” I answered her too sharply, which then made her wince. “I’m sorry. Um, I don’t think I got your name?”

  A smile flitted across her lips. “It’s Talia, Your Highness.”

  “It’s good to meet you, but please, don’t call me that.”

  “Okay.” She seemed genuinely confused, as though most people would relish being referred to as royalty. Perhaps most people would. But I wasn’t most people. She pointed out the three lookalike warlocks with her. “This is Travis, Thaddeus, and Theodore.”

  Each guy bowed his head in turn.

  “What, are you triplets or something?”

  “Close,” Talia said. “We’re quadruplets, actually.”

  “Wow.”

  “Not so uncommon for witches.”

  “And warlocks,” Theodore said, or was it Thaddeus? They looked like freaking clones with the same dark sunglasses and combat fatigues. I wasn’t thinking straight enough to be able to tell them apart yet. All the brothers had buzzed, blond hair and gorgeous facial features. Talia was a looker too.

  “You look surprised. Have you never met a witch before?” Talia asked.

  “No, I haven’t. I suppose I thought you’d be more, um, warty?”

  She smiled. “Witches are naturally quite beautiful, despite what fairy tales suggest. It would be like me expecting you to turn into a bat and fear crucifixes.”

  “Touché.”

  “I’ll show you to your room and will have a DBD brought to you,” Talia said. “My brothers can show your…mates to their rooms.”

  “I’m not her mate,” Zac said gruffly. He pried Vivian off him and pressed the latte back into her hands. She gripped the cup like it held the elixir of eternal life and slurped it down.

  Charles stepped up and took my hand. “Well, I am, and thanks. I think we could all use some rest and food, especially Wren.”

  “I need to check on Ashe,” I said as he led me to the stairs with the quadruplets and Zac following close behind.

  �
��He’ll be okay, just give him some space,” Charles said.

  I walked numbly along and headed down the stairs, thankful for Charles’s strong hand in mine.

  He leaned in and kissed my temple, then whispered, “No matter what happens, I love you. Remember that.”

  I met his gaze briefly, blinking back tears. No matter what happens. Meaning what? Meaning if Ashe decided he’d had enough? The thought of losing either of them tightened my chest and threatened to strangle my cold, dead heart.

  But I couldn’t blame Ashe if he left and never wanted to set eyes on me again. Not after everything he’d been through because of me.

  Marlowe met us halfway up the stairs. He was alone, so he must have gotten Ashe settled somewhere. I opened my mouth to ask if he was okay, but I knew the answer. Of course, he wasn’t okay. I had to focus on other things now. Like the fact that my third mate was standing two steps below me, and that his cinnamon-colored eyes bored into mine and lit up my tattoo until the pulsing heat reached my core. As much as it felt right, this mystical desire for a total stranger also felt like a betrayal when Ashe was suffering so much.

  “What is this place?” I asked him and shook my arm to relieve the burning sensation on my skin.

  “It’s a nuclear missile silo. It was originally acquired for hiding your mother and her royal court should the need arise.”

  I blinked at him. “Then why wasn’t she— I mean, why weren’t we brought here?”

  “Because your mother’s traitorous mate, Devin, knew the location, so she didn’t want to risk it. A few of her knights and their families sheltered here as well as some of her servants. They had hoped to rally enough allies to adequately defend her, but she fled…with you.”

  He held my gaze for a moment before glancing at Charles. The black and gold mask that covered half of his face added a sense of intrigue to his already cool and dead-serious expression.

  “Everything you need is here,” he continued as he turned and descended the metal stairs.

  “Even my father?”

  “No. But we’ll discuss that soon.”

  Once our whole party was in the corridor, he punched a few buttons on a keypad on the wall. The concrete door slid closed, the sound echoing through the chamber. I shivered. It reminded me of a tomb being sealed shut. I fought the impulse to run the other way and break through the concrete wall. In my experience, being trapped underground—or anywhere for that matter—wasn’t a good thing, not without knowing alternate escape routes. The fire extinguisher on the wall didn’t make me feel much better.

  As though he’d read my thoughts, Marlowe stopped for a moment and looked over his shoulder. “You’re safe here. You have my word.”

  “Yeah, we’re a little leery,” Charles said. “We really don’t know you yet, despite your apparent connection to the queen.”

  Marlowe glanced at the tattoo on his arm and then pulled his sleeve down to cover it. “I’m not sure what else to tell you. I can’t make you trust me.”

  “I’d feel safer if you’d return my weapons,” Zac said.

  Marlowe gave a little wave to the quadruplets. One of the brothers slid a backpack off his shoulder and handed it to Zac, who immediately unzipped it and did a quick search through the contents.

  “Thanks. It’s all there,” he said tersely as he zipped it back up and hooked one strap over his shoulder.

  “Good. Now if you’d follow me?” Marlowe led us down two flights of metal stairs, punched more numbers on a keypad by a silver-coated door, and stood back as it opened into a huge round lobby type of room. Filing cabinets and shelves sparsely stocked with books lined the perimeter. At least three fire extinguishers were mounted on the walls around the room, which seemed excessive..

  In the center of the lobby was a red area rug with a gray symbol that matched that of my tattoo. Just beyond that lay a desk, where a woman with silver-streaked hair in a bun looked up from her paperwork. She pushed her glasses up on her nose and squinted at us before her eyes flew wide open. She jumped to her feet. Her desk chair rolled away behind her.

  “Oh my, oh my, oh my,” she chattered as she came around the desk. She bowed so deeply, she almost toppled over. “Your Majesty, I am honored to be in your presence.”

  I knew it was rude, but I couldn’t help rolling my eyes. I was just too tired to care. “Please, it’s just Wren.”

  “Oh,” she said, standing straight up again. She looked to Marlowe for confirmation.

  Marlowe nodded.

  “Then…yes, welcome to your bunker, um, Queen Wren.”

  I didn’t bother arguing that Queen wasn’t necessary either. “Thank you.”

  “I’m Margaret Chalmers. I was your mother’s secretary.” She approached me tentatively, searching my face. Her eyes were a creamy yellow that matched the skirt suit she wore. A rather hideous color that made her look jaundiced, unfortunately. “Forgive me if I stammer. It’s just that you look so much like her.”

  “I’ve heard that a few times,” I said with a small smile.

  Just then, a small fire seemed to start from nowhere on the rug near Margaret’s desk. Charles and I looked at each other in shock. Marlowe rubbed his forehead as though he’d seen this too many times before.

  “What the hell?” Zac said, stepping back. He slipped off his backpack and looked like he was about to beat the fire out with it.

  But Margaret calmly walked over to a fire extinguisher, brought it back, and doused the flame with a white cloud of CO2. She set the extinguisher on her desk and briskly brushed her palms together.

  “Now where were we?” she asked, smiling brightly. “Right. We didn’t have a lot of time to prepare, you see. Marlowe is always keeping things classified until the last minute. But your room is ready. Your mother, bless her soul, never stepped foot in it, but we did manage to find some of her personal belongings and stored them down there after the coup. Perhaps you’d like to go through them.”

  “The coup,” I repeated. It sounded so much more sterile than murder, slaughter, and betrayal.

  “Shall I show her?” Talia asked, a little too excitedly. Perhaps they needed to give her more to do than electrocuting vampires.

  “A room and a shower would be wonderful!” Vivian said. “Seriously. Do you have any vegan DBDs? I’m watching my cholesterol. Oh, I’m Vivian Bravo, by the way, but you probably recognized me already.”

  Margaret met Vivian’s clueless gaze with a cool one. “Yes, of course. If you could have a seat out here for a minute, Miss Bravo, we’ll prepare a room for you as well…after we take care of our queen.”

  “Sure, yeah, obviously take care of the queen.” Vivian grabbed a magazine off one of the side tables and plopped down on a sofa. “Could I get that vegan DBD while I wait?”

  Margaret just blinked at her before nodding to Talia.

  Talia gestured for me to follow. “Come this way.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Charles said in a tone that left no room for arguments.

  Marlowe had taken Zac aside to another desk, where they were in deep discussion about something. I could have listened in, but I tuned it out. I couldn’t worry about all the things now. I was too worried about Ashe to care about SFBI shit at the moment.

  “There are ten levels in this bunker,” Talia said as she led me through yet another locked door to another short corridor and to an elevator. She pushed the 10 button. “Yours is on the very bottom. Seems opposite to what a queen should have, doesn’t it? But it’s the best room here. A suite.”

  “Um, what’s the deal with the fire?” Charles asked. “Is the place booby trapped or something? Because that’s not exactly safe for my queen.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about that. Harmless, really. We have plenty of extinguishers and a sprinkler system if it gets out of hand.”

  She didn’t exactly answer Charles’s question, but I think we were both too tired to argue at that moment. We stepped into the elevator. The door closed. I stared at the numbers that weirdl
y ascended as we descended. It somehow fit the theme of my upside-down world, however. I felt Talia’s eyes on me and turned to meet her gaze.

  She smiled brightly. “I never knew your mom, but I’ve heard so much about her. She was well-loved.”

  I huffed a laugh. “Not by everyone.”

  Charles put his arm around me, as though to protect me from the memories.

  Her smile faded. “Right. I’m sorry about before, the lightning spell, I mean. I didn’t know about his sister.”

  “What’s done is done. We can’t change the past. We can only—”

  “Create the future,” Talia finished. “Your mom used to say that, didn’t she?”

  I glanced down at my shoes, missing her all over again. “Yeah, I guess she did.”

  The elevator finally stopped. When the door opened, Talia gestured for us to exit. Charles and I walked out and into a room fit for a queen. Oak-paneled walls held portraits that looked like they belonged in the Louvre. Ornate antique furniture sat upon Oriental rugs that mostly covered the concrete floor. Chandeliers flickered with lighting that resembled real candles. On the other side of the room sat a huge bed covered in a red quilt embroidered with silver thread in the shape of the symbol on my arm. On top of that, propped against the pillows, was something that drew me toward it.

  It was a stuffed lion with big orange eyes, a pink nose, and a plump belly stained with faint brown spots. Blood splatters—I’m not sure how I knew that, but I did. I picked it up and hugged it, letting the scent trigger another long dead memory. And immediately burst into tears.

  Chapter Two

  Marlowe

  The SFBI required yearly psychological exams since our jobs are so stressful, and every year, I lied my way through them. I'd gotten so good at it that I always passed with flying colors, even after answering this question: What's your worst fear?

  Fire. My mask made that one obvious. But if I dug down deeper, peeled back the layers of memories I'd tried to repress, the answer was love. Such a volatile, unpredictable thing that always ended in hurt.