Leaving Eden

by Kelly A Walker et al.

  A clearing throat halts the kiss that makes desire flood through my body and fills me with renewed energy. Devon is standing, his hands crossed suspiciously over his crotch.

  “I should go,” he says in a rough voice.

  Channeling my inner dream self, I give him a coy look and glance at the men on either side of me. Their answer is clear – they trust me. It’s my decision.

  “How about you stay and watch?” I don’t wait to see what he does as I turn in Reece’s arms and press my lips to Nash’s. I smile against his mouth when the chair creaks under Devon's weight, though. This isn’t a dream; I’m going to enjoy every second.

  If I can pull people into dreams, maybe I can pull my dream self out of them?

  I wonder what else I can do.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Serena has been writing stories since she was in second grade. Words, books, and stories have always fascinated her. She wrote her first novel when she was twelve and has been writing nonstop since then. It is only now that she is getting around to having her works published. Her favorite genres to read and write include Fantasy (Paranormal, Urban, Sword and Sorcery, Dystopian, etc.), Romance (New Adult, Paranormal, Reverse Harem, Menage, etc.), Sci-fi, and anything else that catches her fancy. Almost all of her books portray characters that push the boundaries of sexuality, gender identity, ableism, and nontraditional relationships.

  Serena currently lives in Upstate New York in a developing intentional community. She believes in true love, multiple soul matches, the beauty of starry nights, and the power of touch. She’d love to connect with you on social media!

  https://www.facebook.com/serenalindahlauthor/

  ALSO BY SERENA LINDAHL

  Soul Tenders Reverse Harem

  Pieces of Her Soul

  Echoes of Her Soul

  Harmony of Their Souls

  Soul Charmers Reverse Harem

  Charming the Flames

  Fanning the Flames (coming soon)

  Written Realms Reverse Harem

  Keeper of the Pages

  Druid of the Realms

  Magitech Polyamorous Urban Fantasy

  Worlds Collide

  Magic’s Divide

  Enemies Allied

  Contemporary Stand-Alone Reverse Harem

  Lost & Found

  Serena Lindahl writing as Reyna Orrisan

  Emotional

  ENVY

  By Lucy Roy

  ENVY

  Envy:

  Painful or resentful awareness of an advantage enjoyed by another joined with a desire to possess the same advantage

  All human virtue, to its latest breath

  Finds envy never conquer'd, but by death.

  -Alexander Pope

  To the BWWS ;-)

  1

  CHARMAINE

  “All stand at attention for His Majesty King Horace and his new bride, Queen Helena!”

  I held my chin high as the herald announced the arrival of the newlyweds. Horace, a man who was as handsome as he was vile, led his new bride, Helena, formerly of Teid, into the reception hall.

  “Such an odd pairing,” remarked the silver-haired crone who stood beside me. Glancing down, I saw her gown bore the deep green and gold colors of House Asten, a noble house that held high favor with the king.

  “How do you mean?” I asked, forcing my tone to hold the precarious balance between interest and boredom.

  She gestured toward where the young queen had just entered, Helena’s delicate hand resting lightly on the arm of her new husband. “Look at the poor girl. Barely a woman, now tied to that wretched thing. He must have two decades on her, at least.”

  I tried to conceal my surprise at her clear distaste for our monarch. Any house who held favor with the king was typically loyal to a fault and would never speak poorly of their monarch.

  When she saw my expression, she rolled her eyes.

  “Oh, don’t look so surprised, Princess. He was betrothed to your older sister first, and that was odd enough. What man chooses a thirty-five-year-old widow, one with a teenage daughter, at that, to be his bride?”

  I cast another glance toward the couple. My niece, a beautiful young girl of only sixteen, was currently doing a fine job of keeping the sorrow from her face as she was led forward into the reception. “I suppose you’re right,” I conceded.

  The woman sent me another shrewd look. “What did he see in your sister, anyway? How did he come to choose Princess Luella as his bride when Queen Shyla passed?”

  Carefully, I took a sip of wine from the golden goblet that had been handed to me by a server just moments earlier and considered my response. There were many words I wished to say, many things I wanted to spew about the man who would expect a girl more than twenty years his junior to bed him in just a few hours.

  I knew my place, though, and now was not the time to betray those emotions.

  “When he met Luella last summer,” I began, “Horace looked upon her as though the sun rose and set upon her face. They were instantly smitten, the both of them.”

  “He was distraught when Luella was murdered, then? Took time to mourn the loss of his beloved?” The suspicion in her words was clear as day and mirrored what many others suspected. The circumstances surrounding Luella’s murder—a raid on her way to the King’s palace in Vindaria—were suspicious at best, yet no one in their right mind would question how curious—and convenient—it was that the King went from marrying a widow who was lovely but showing signs of age, to her breathtaking daughter, considered by many to be the most beautiful woman across the five kingdoms.

  Any fool who possessed either a cock or half a mind could see the benefits to Luella’s death, but none would ever dare speak them aloud.

  Except this brazen old woman, whoever she was, which made me both wary and appreciative of her presence.

  “I’m not aware of how he handled the news of her death.” A lie. A brutal, painful lie.

  The old woman huffed. “You’re a poor liar, has anyone ever told you that?”

  “And you’re quite the busybody. Has anyone ever told you that?” I arched a brow in her direction and took another sip of wine, and she narrowed her eyes in return.

  “If I were you, Princess Charmaine, I would get that poor girl out of here tonight.” She lowered her voice to a breathy whisper. “You know what that monster has planned for her. Everyone in this room does. Believe it or not, some of us actually give a damn about your niece.”

  Gritting my teeth, I kept my gaze on the King and Queen. “There is nothing I can do about our family’s decree. Helena is Luella’s closest female kin, therefore the duty of wedding the King now falls to her.”

  Another huff. “I’m surprised you didn’t offer yourself up, instead,” she mused, her eyes shrewd. “A woman of twenty-five, no marriage prospects in sight? You’d be much better equipped to handle him than that poor child, and you’re running out of time to be picky, don’t you think?”

  My fingers tightened on my goblet so hard I thought I might bend the metal, but I didn’t deign to respond. She didn’t need to know the truth. She didn’t need to know that I’d been chosen first and had wormed my way out of marrying him in the most despicable of ways.

  The woman clicked her tongue, then took a swallow of her drink. “And look at those whorish ninnies over there.” She gestured with her goblet toward a group of noblewomen that stood on the other side of the room. “Poor things. How many do you think were praying to the gods that Horace would choose one of them in Luella’s place?”

  “Quite a few, I’d wager,” I murmured back, watching the small group of women as they took in their new queen. Oh, how they oozed envy when Helena walked in, golden hair curling gently to her waist, brushing against the tan skin of her back, visible to all due to the backless, frost-blue gown I’d created for just such a purpose. The noblewomen had all chosen to wear gowns that were as beautiful as they were revealing, with breasts threatening to spill out of their corsets,
laced so tightly it was a wonder they could even breathe.

  None seemed to notice the vile smirk that twisted the lips of King Horace, the malice that danced in his dark eyes. A sudden pang of nausea nearly caused the meager dinner I’d eaten to rise up.

  The crone touched my arm, an oddly familiar gesture for someone who seemed to only know me in passing, drawing my attention back to her. Her milky, blue eyes bore into my own with more clarity than I would have expected from a woman her age.

  “Most here are unaware of your…position in our society, Princess. I would strongly encourage you to make sure it stays that way, especially if you choose to help your niece this evening.”

  She gave a small shake of her head when I only stared at her impassively in response, refusing to confirm or deny her suspicions. Wordlessly, she turned and walked away, her green cloak dragging gently on the gleaming marble as she slowly wove her way through the crowd toward the table piled high with apple desserts, a favorite of Helena’s.

  Refocusing on the preening nobles, I watched their disgust and disdain for my young niece simmer to the surface.

  After checking to make sure the old woman had truly left, I sucked in a quick breath through my nose, then happily sent out my Envy, my power filling the women’s minds with images of them at the King’s side, taking him to bed on their wedding night, and making love to him so voraciously he would forget his own name, forget the lovely Helena Barrons of Teid ever existed.

  I inhaled, drawing in the deep, emerald green essence that polluted their auras, filling their hearts with more hatred and jealousy than their foolish, pathetic minds could handle.

  The power of their envy alone could fuel me for weeks, possibly longer, if I milked it through the rest of the night. If I did that, though, I risked permanent harm to their hearts and minds, which wasn’t something I was sure I could live with, despite their desire to bed and wed the pig of a man we were forced to call a king.

  It was my curse, after all.

  Before I could draw too much, I dragged my gaze away from their jealous stares and let it drift around the room, landing on the dark-haired fae prince who stood toward the back, his eyes locked on where the King’s hand rested possessively on Helena’s hip.

  Curiously, I examined his aura, and while it was laced with jealousy, the deep purple that dominated it told me how full of love he was for my niece. No, feeding from him was out of the question. His purpose would be better served later.

  I turned my attention to the other men in the room, the ones whose lusty thoughts about Helena could easily be turned toward jealousy of the King.

  Why should he get the most beautiful woman in all the kingdoms?

  He’s an old fool. It’s not fair to take an eligible woman with a long life ahead of her for himself.

  No one in this kingdom respects him. He doesn’t deserve the power he has; it would be best for all if he were deposed, the power given to someone who truly deserves it.

  I sent these thoughts toward a handful of strapping men who were watching Helena closely, encouraging them to picture themselves in the King’s shoes, deserving of his power, of her love, despite their lower place in society. Deftly, I planted seeds in their minds of how they might achieve those goals.

  When the deep green of their auras began to shift toward red, I withdrew my power, quickly breathing in the envy they were emitting, allowing myself the sustenance that no food could ever provide.

  When their wrath shifted back toward simple jealousy, I left it to simmer, left them to plot how they might kill the King and take his power and his wife for their own.

  His death was what I was after. I didn’t quite care who did it or who took his place once he was gone, and it couldn’t hurt to have a contingency plan if my true plan fell through.

  “Have you chosen a path forward, Princess?” a raspy voice asked from beside me.

  Gritting my teeth, I refused to face Kosandra, the witch who had cursed me to the torment of surviving off the envious thoughts and feelings of those who refused to be content with their lot in life. Envy, hateful and cruel, could plague the heart of even the most reasonable person.

  As long as Kosandra’s curse held me, I had to do her bidding, and today her wish was to watch the King fall. It was the only time I’d been fully in agreement about what she was having me do, but true solace came in knowing that I would be helping my niece as well.

  “The women who wish to be his will distract him,” I told Kosandra, tilting my head slightly toward the vapid noblewomen. “Then, Prince Gregory will take Helena. I will ensure they’re caught, flood the King with enough jealousy to send him into a rage, and he’ll attempt to kill the Prince.”

  “That ensures nothing but a spat and potential execution for Gregory,” she pointed out.

  “Gregory is a fae prince. A warrior,” I countered. “He’ll kill the King with one blow to save his love.”

  She scoffed. “He’ll kill him out of love? Is it not your job to make him kill out of envy, destroy the man who has what he’ll never acquire?”

  “Is that not the same thing?” I murmured, not actually expecting an answer.

  “What of Gregory, once the King is dead, then? Should the Prince survive, what will happen to him?”

  I didn’t respond. She didn’t need to know that Gregory and Helena would likely take that opportunity to flee, hopefully back to Gregory’s homeland of Lindoroth. If they were successful in their escape, when it appeared Gregory had kidnapped her, they would cement the bonds of hatred between the fae and mortal kingdoms.

  As usual, though, Kosandra worked out my plan.

  “Discord between kingdoms, regicide, kidnapping, and adultery all in one night?” The smile that curved her blood-red lips was appreciative. “I have to say, I’m surprised at the lengths you’re going to for your niece, Charmaine. If I didn’t know better, I might say you were actually beginning to enjoy the duties I’ve handed you.”

  “It shouldn’t be so surprising.” I watched as two women who’d been more affected by my Envy than the others slowly began to move toward the King. “Helena and Gregory might run off. If they do, and if any mortal kingdom is foolish enough to declare war on the fae, they will live their lives envying those who are able to have a normal marriage, one that isn’t filled with strife and war. They will envy those who will raise children without the threat of death hanging over their heads. They will want a peaceful life, and that’s something they will never be able to achieve.”

  It hurt, knowing just how true that might be, but I would give my niece that life before allowing her to be with the piggish, violent brute at her side. Living in fear with a man you loved had to be better than living in fear with a man who would have your mother murdered, all so he could have the woman—girl—he saw as the better option for a wife.

  I brushed the golden snake that curved around my wrist, its needle-sharp teeth piercing my flesh, sealing the curse within my blood. On any other day, I despised the odious thing, but tonight, I felt a bit thankful for what it allowed me to do.

  With a sigh, I let my hand fall and turned to the witch at my side. “Rest assured, Kosandra, your curse still remains just that, despite what benefits I might receive from tonight’s outcome.”

  “Still no luck finding your soulmates, then?” She smirked. “I honestly didn’t think it would take so long. It’s a shame, really, to be stuck in such an unhappy place when a release is so simple to find.”

  “Soulmates? So you confirm that it’s not just one man I must find, but two to break my curse?” My heart sank at the thought. Finding one man who completed me would be difficult but possible, considering the circumstances. To find two needles in a haystack, though? Highly unlikely.

  She gave me a patronizing smile. “Oh, dear, did I neglect to tell you that bit?” With a shake of her head, she turned to face me; her smooth, unwrinkled face flawless and cruel as she looked at me. “Two, yes. Or three…” Her brow furrowed in a feigned show of conside
ration. “Four, perhaps? Maybe more, I’m not quite certain. You know, it’s just so difficult to keep track of how these things work.”

  Three. Maybe more. I tried to conceal the rage that caused my body to tremble as I realized just how dreadful I’d allowed my own circumstances to become.

  “You are a horrible, hateful woman, Kosandra,” I spat, forcing back the tears that had formed a lump in my throat.

  “You say that as if you had no choice.” She clicked her tongue and shook her head. “You chose to barter with me, Charmaine. You chose to trade freedom from a betrothal to the King for a curse of my choosing.”

  “You never said my sister would be the one to take my place!” I hissed. “That his eye would be turned toward her instead! Luella is now dead because of you!”

  She shrugged and turned her attention back toward the guests. “I did you a favor. Horace wanted Helena, pure and simple. If you’d kept your place as the future queen, you’d likely be the one who was killed in that raid, not Luella. Horace would still have ensured Helena would be the one standing by his side tonight.” She inclined her head toward Helena, who was doing her best not to look heartbroken. “If that had happened, who would be left to help your poor, darling niece?”

  I ground my teeth together, trapped between logic and fury.

  “I will break this curse, Kosandra.”

  “I wish you the best of luck with that, Charmaine. Truly. Now get back to work.”

  With that, she turned and strode off, slipping through the crowd like a shadow.

  2

  CORBIN

  The last time I saw Princess Charmaine Castamyne of Teid was nearly six months ago, when she had fled into the dark with tears streaming down her face after discovering her parents, the King and Queen of Teid, had bartered their daughter’s hand in marriage for an alliance with Vind.