Fourth Rite: A Reverse Harem Tale (Lovin' the Coven Book 4)

by Jacquelyn Faye

  "Oh, come on," I sputtered in the water. I'd had enough. Enough of fucking Faerie, enough of getting hurt, enough with the monsters at every turn. I was done.

  I put on a burst of speed and practically did a dolphin-leap that Flipper would have been proud of, grasping the rope in both hands and shoving a foot in the bucket.

  Pull, crank, whatever. Just get me the hell out of here!

  Your wish is my–

  Dar. Big monster.

  The slack went out of the rope and the bucket started lifting me out of the water. As soon as I was a few feet in the air, I could see it. It looked like a giant catfish with horns.

  Catfish are bottom feeders. They don't eat live things. Right?

  In the human realm. This is Faerie.

  You were just supposed to say yes.

  The twenty-foot monstrosity surfaced, its giant dorsal fin flopping in the air, and gazed at me curiously. For once, the monster left me alone.

  Looking up, I could see daylight and smell freedom. It smelled much better than the garbage pit, and I nearly bounced in my bucket.

  Reaching out I threw my hand over the stone ledge of the well. Another hand, the same shade as mine, reached out and grabbed it while an elven face peered over the ledge. I screamed.

  Shut up! It is me.

  Dar?

  The elf nodded and gave me an apologetic look.

  Oh, Lucy. You got some splainin' to do.

  I shall. But not right here. You're not exactly light.

  And now, you're just in fucking trouble.

  Seriously, pull.

  I grabbed his hand and the ledge and hoisted myself up over the edge. The courtyard was completely empty.

  "Where is everybody?"

  "The kitchen blew up, remember?"

  "Good, now you have time to tell me why you are an elf."

  "Do you really want to know?"

  "Very much so." I nodded for emphasis.

  "I can… I can assume the form of any creature whose flesh I have consumed."

  "Ew. You ate an elf?"

  "I was also in dire need of a uniform…"

  "Wait. You just ate an elf?"

  He burped, and I could have lived without the nod.

  "Never mind. I changed my mind. I want to unknow that little fact."

  "I did try to warn you."

  "I remember."

  "Should we go?"

  "Yeah. I have a king to kill."

  "Well, now would be a good time to do it. That explosion blew the kitchen up and the entire castle caught the shock of the blast."

  "Good. Let's go."

  "Want some elf clothes?"

  "Depends. You gonna eat another one?"

  "Too stringy."

  "Ewww."

  He led me to the entrance to the kitchen and had me sit down on a stool by the door. "Wait here for a few minutes."

  "Okay?"

  "The moment you step into the palace, kitchen or not, dressed like that…"

  "Gotcha. Waiting." He was just lucky I was way too tired to argue. I started to doubt my sanity and my need for this mysterious necklace around Renlynn's neck. Letting past wrongs, and living and letting live, sounded like a much more plausible plan. Much. Showers and bed were all I really needed.

  Have faith in yourself, Daughter.

  I sighed. I didn't need a pep talk, even if it was from the goddess. I needed a bazooka. Maybe even some surface-to-elf missiles. Those would be pretty handy.

  Is that not what you are? You split the sky of Faerie on a whim. You are surrounded with limitless power. Stop hiding from what you are and who you are.

  What am I?

  That is up to you to discover. Go home and have a shower or find the answers to your questions. The choice is yours.

  I just bought that new bottle of pomegranate body wash…

  I will.

  She must have felt my determination. I felt her ethereal arms for a moment as she hugged me, warming me from within. They vanished as the kitchen door burst open.

  "Here. It was all I could find."

  I reached out and took the rolled-up dress from his outstretched hand. Anything would have been better than what I was wearing. I stripped naked and pulled the dress over my head.

  It was definitely made for an elf.

  The material felt like silk, but stretched, thankfully. It was far too tight in the chest and hips, but with a wiggle here and there, I managed to get everything of importance covered.

  "I suggest you wear that home. You look stunning…"

  I stopped looking at the white dress and stared at Dar in shock. He wasn't staring anywhere near my face. "I do?"

  His eyes finally met mine and a blush crossed his elven features. "You do. Most definitely."

  "You say the sweetest things. Like woof. And bark. And I look pretty."

  His eyes narrowed, not appreciating my doggy jokes. "Now if we could just do something about that intoxicating mouth of yours."

  I chuckled and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Not kidding, though. I didn't think you saw me like that."

  "A demon would have to be blind not to."

  "Thanks, Dar. For the dress and making me feel better."

  "You are welcome, Master."

  When Yuki called me Master, it kind of freaked me out. When Dar did it, it made me feel a little…warm. In his elf body. Maybe even in his demon body. The horns had possibilities.

  It was my turn to blush, and I motioned to the kitchen door. He looked around the door, paused for a moment, and motioned me in.

  The fires had been mostly contained. Brownies, sprites, and other creatures were using magic to smother the rest. Everyone else was cleaning up the destruction that had started at the trap door in the corner. From there, sacks of flour had ignited and burned the rest of the giant room. Nobody paid us any attention as he pulled me across the stone floor and into the main room of the servants' floor.

  "We need to find Renlynn."

  "There is no need. He sits upon his throne, receiving reports as to the state of the castle."

  "How do you know?"

  "While you were traversing the caverns, I listened in."

  "You're wearing a guard uniform."

  He nodded.

  "Good. One guard down, two-hundred to go."

  He nodded, grimly.

  "I'm going to go panzer in there. Hopefully most will scatter."

  "Panzer?"

  "It's a type of tank."

  "I'm surprised you know this."

  "I was alive during dubya-dubya-I-I."

  "Do I even want to know?"

  "World War Two."

  "That sounds…destructive."

  "Watch the History Channel."

  "We can discuss this later. You are stalling."

  "You see… America wanted to avoid going to–"

  He pushed me toward the exit. I gave up.

  "You can do this. Bring down the castle if you need to."

  "There are innocent people."

  "Who?"

  "The Princess. The kitchen staff. That nice catfish beneath us that didn't try to eat me. Fuck that worm though. He's an asshole."

  He sighed and pulled me into a hug. "You can do this. You need to do this. Do not forget all that he has done to you. Remember the feel of the blade in your chest. Remember the pain you endured to free yourself from prison. Think of that to fuel your resolve, but most of all, remember who you are, High Priestess of the Coven of the First Moon." Before he let me go, he kissed the mark on my forehead, and it flared beneath his lips.

  "Dar?"

  "Ze'ni m'fal torrein j'aa bokthu m'ren."

  "What?"

  His arms went limp and dropped to his sides. He stepped back and drew the dagger at his belt.

  "Um… Whatcha doin?"

  His eyes were black. Entirely. There was no iris, no pupil, no bloodshot anything. They were inky wells into his soul.

  He held his hand out in front of me, palm down, and nodded to it. "Place
your hand upon mine."

  "Not until you tell me why."

  "Trust me," his voice took on an otherworldly quality. The resonance behind his voice sent shivers down my back. For the first time since I had met him, I was afraid of him. But… I trusted him. I reached out and put my hand on his.

  He struck so fast I didn't have a chance to flinch. His other hand was at his side one moment and in the next a blade was through our hands, pinning them together. I winced, but managed not to cry out.

  "Do'vorth h'maal belen da, vokuth dormal di'edra."

  I invoke the fourth rite, as is our right. Somehow, I understood the words flowing from his mouth. It wasn't any language I had ever heard before. It was far from pretty, sounded like you would need an extra tongue in the back of your throat to pronounce half the words, but was still comforting.

  "Melan portu viie p'al vodru b'lek."

  This is the choice we have made.

  "P'daal gotru s'med boraan, molak da'bor ju."

  From this day forward, we are one.

  Wait. What?

  Fire flared from the wound and flowed through my veins, and when it hit my heart, my senses exploded. I could hear everything, I could smell everyone, and I could taste the flesh in Renlynn's skinny little neck. My mouth started watering and I knew I would never be satisfied with any meal, ever again, until I had tasted that sweet flesh.

  The world snapped back into focus.

  The world was the demon in front of me.

  He blushed and nodded, pulling the dagger from our hands with an arc of glistening crimson that splattered the white wall next to us.

  "Do you feel it?"

  "The burning need to extinguish his life and feast upon his flesh?"

  Dar nodded.

  "Yes."

  "Good."

  "What did you do?"

  "Invoked the rite of… It's probably best if you do not know. I have given you focus. I have given you reason. The rest is up to you."

  "You're not coming with me?"

  "I cannot. This is your rite, your trial, your task."

  "I wouldn't have it any other way."

  "Feast upon your enemies."

  "Keep the hearth fires warm," I answered automatically, without reason or knowing what the words meant. I could tell they meant something to Dar, his sudden smile nearly ripped his face in two and he bared fangs that were far from elvish.

  "You look fierce," he said proudly, darting forward and licking my lip.

  I blinked at him in shock for a moment. "I'm not the one sporting fangs."

  "Are you sure about that?"

  Wait, what?

  I reached up and sure enough… "We will discuss this…later."

  He nodded and motioned toward the throne room, leaning back against the wall and crossing his arms as I took the first step toward the end.

  The double doors were closed. I felt like a kid at Yule, unwrapping my presents as I lay my hands against the gilded white wood. "Bheith ar dóiteáin."

  The doors exploded inward in a ball of fire.

  I should have rushed in and rendered the flesh from their bones, but I waited. It only took a few moments for the cloud of dust to settle and the smoke to billow up to the thirty-foot ceiling. I wanted my entrance to be dramatic. I wanted Renlynn to see that which he could not kill, coming for him.

  I was death.

  In a pretty, white dress.

  I strode forward, my bare feet making no sound on the seafoam green runner leading to the ornate oaken throne centered upon the dais at the end of the room.

  A snarl escaped my lips as I felt my nails split as talons slid from the tips of my fingers. I needed no sword, no dagger, no weapon. Not even my magic. It was with my hands, I would tear the flesh from his neck.

  Twenty archers took fire as the King grinned at me from his seat. It quickly quelled to a smile before becoming a frown and then turning into open-mouthed shock as the arrows bounced harmlessly away from my shield.

  "It can't be. I killed you myself."

  His fearful whisper was like music to my ears. I felt the stirring in my groin as his terror excited me in ways unimaginable. It was the sweet song of a serenade, it was the hands of a lover caressing me in places it shouldn't, but I liked it. A lot.

  "Renlynn…"

  "No." He sprang from his throne. "Kill the witch!"

  "That's not very niccce, Renlynnn…" I was having trouble speaking words through the fangs in my mouth. They seemed to be getting longer.

  "Kill it!" His voice had become a shrill scream as he pushed his guards in my direction and made to run.

  He was rounding the throne toward, what I assumed was, a hidden exit. I held out my hands, and without the need for a canting, used the magic around us to pull down the back wall into a mass of rubble. He barely escaped the onslaught. Now, if he wanted to leave, he had to go through me.

  He fell to the ground and whimpered, seeing his death in my eyes. Eyes that I had no doubt, were shining like orbs of obsidian, just as Dar's had been.

  The archers dropped their bows and charged at me with swords they pulled from the air, blades glowing red.

  I danced at rituals. I danced at hand-fastings. I danced under the moon in spring, summer, fall, and winter. Until that moment, I had never known what true dancing was.

  I wove my body between their blades, twirling and striking with my new claws, dipping and disembowling them, one by one. A few got a nick in here and there, but I was healed before the blade swung back around. One elf snuck up behind me, and I could feel the heat of the blade just before it struck my neck. It was more than enough time to spin and duck, lifting him up off the floor by his bottom jaw as my fingers drove through the soft flesh beneath. I dropped him to the ground and kept fighting, until only the king's personal guards remained.

  They dropped their blades and stepped away.

  "You." I curled a claw and motioned for him to come to me.

  "No. No. No. Stay away! I am King!"

  He wanted to play hard to get. It was cute.

  I crouched low and used my hands to crawl across the floor, never taking my eyes from my prey. The tension in my legs threatened to propel me across the room in a single bound.

  His eyes widened, but his gaze shifted above me. I could feel an overwhelming presence behind me and the gentle caress of his clawed hand, lovingly over my back. It wasn't the touch of a lover, it was the encouragement of a father.

  I sprang and Renlynn screamed. When I hit him, we rolled and he slammed against the rubble of his throne. My hands were in his chest, clutching his heart in one hand as he stared at me in disbelief. I roared and with the last wave of sound leaving my throat, I slammed my face into his neck and tore out his throat. With my pound of flesh in my jaws, I pulled my hands from his chest and smiled as the light left his eyes.

  I looked down at my gore covered hands and opened them, dropping the heart with one, and smiling at the gem in the other.

  Chapter 20

  "You did well, Daughter."

  I fell back against the floor, looked up at the Lord above me, and smiled. He had come for Renlynn's reckoning, just as the Lady had promised.

  As I stared in awe at his massive frame, he reached down and scooped me up in his open hands, turning me toward him. His hands smelled like blood and sage and I resisted the urge to rub my face against them.

  "You are quite the little hunter."

  "I had a little help."

  "As it should be. Nothing should ever be shouldered by oneself. That means you have failed in life if you do not have friends to share your burden." He nodded at Renlynn.

  "I know it wasn't his fault," I said sadly and lifted the gem for the Lord to see. It winked under the massive chandelier of the throne room as the Lord's antlers continually cast shadows across it. "This drove him insane."

  "As it was meant to."

  "You mean someone gave it to him to drive him crazy?"

  He nodded.

  "Who?"
r />   "That is for you to discover."

  "Nothing is ever easy."

  "Nothing worth having is ever easy."

  "True story, my Lord."

  He chuckled and the sound echoed off the remaining walls of the massive room. "I shall return you to your friend. Good luck, our Daughter."

  "Thank you. Both of you."

  He kissed the tip of his finger and touched it gently to the mark on my forehead. It flared again, blinding me for a moment, and when I could see again, I was standing before the ruined throne room doors. Dar stood there, staring at me with a look of disbelief.

  "Let's go home," I told him.

  He held out his arm and I wrapped my arms around it, the gem clutched tightly against my chest. "How are you feeling?"

  "Sated."

  He chuckled.

  An elf blocked our exit. I would have been more worried if she weren't dressed head to toe in a flowing green dress. I nodded as she and her guards stared at me in horror.

  "You're alive," was all she said.

  "Yes."

  "My brother?"

  "Dead."

  A sister should never sigh in relief at the death of a sibling, but she did. It spoke volumes of what she had suffered at Renlynn's hands. It might not have been his fault, but he was irredeemable and better off in the next life. He had ruined this one for far too many people.

  "What of Jaeren?"

  "I do not own him. He was commanded by the goddess, but I shall not hold him to it. The decision is his."

  She nodded grimly, knowing which path her brother would follow.

  "A suggestion?"

  She tilted her head.

  "If you do not wish to be queen, you would be a fair and honorable regent. Keep your illusion and rebuild a kingdom befitting Jaeren."

  Her guards smiled at my suggestion. I briefly wondered if they were more than guards…

  You go, princess. Now you just need a few more!

  "It is all I can do. I thank you for your sage advice."

  "Least I could do. Since you have to rebuild the castle again because of me."

  She chuckled. Elven laughter should be bottled as a cure for depression. I felt better about everything just listening to it for a moment. "It sacrificed itself for a worthy cause."

  "Well, I'm going home. There's a hot shower and a warm bed waiting for me."

  "Take care of my brother?"