Spirited_A Reverse Harem Fantasy Romance Read online

  Speaking of … I'd wanted to pop in and say hi to my childhood friend before bed, fill him in on everything that'd happened. But now? There was no way. It was a struggle to keep my eyelids open, let alone try to wade through the murk of my complex feelings for Airmienan. AYR-mee-en-in. Airmienan. Be still my heart. And also, gag. I was so lovesick, it was making me … well, sick.

  “I never felt the need to bring it up,” Layna said, grabbing my arm at the last moment and yanking me away from a terrible burning that would've taken off enough feathers to say fuck properly for two whole weeks.

  “You never felt the need to bring up the fact that I'm a dark flubbing angel?” I whispered fiercely, trying my best to ignore Elijah's chuckles from behind. Behind me. Ugh. Why did I like the idea of him being behind me for flub's sake?! He was a gods-damned ghost!

  I squeaked as yet another feather plucked itself from my wing and floated away.

  GODS-DUNG IT! I growled, trying out a new replacement for the word damn. Dung was gross, right? I felt like it worked. Okay, so it really did sound like I was penning some sort of strange children's book.

  “That wouldn't and shouldn't change who you are,” Mom said, the exotic hint of her Nomaid accent making me wish I'd grown up in the desert, just so I could talk like that. Men and women threw themselves at my mother's curvy body, bronzed skin, and full lips. They looked at me like I was an alien creature sent from another planet to destroy everything they knew and loved.

  Of course, a beautiful accent that brought to mind exotic teas and spices, camels and sunshine over sand as white as snow … wouldn't change that. But it would've made me feel better at the very least, more attractive, less clumsy.

  My wing smacked a torch and sent it flying to the thick, lush rugs beneath our feet, imported from Nomaid through hot sun and marauders, a weeklong journey that wasn't for the faint of heart.

  And there it was, going up in flames.

  Jasinda grabbed one of the emergency water whisperer enchanted bottles from the nearby wall, cracking the glass against the stone and dousing the fire before it could do more than singe the carpet.

  “Sorry,” I murmured, but my screw up was already forgotten and we were moving again, down a curving set of stone steps and into one the hallway where my mother and her highest-ranking generals slept. Everyone around me was used to preventing or controlling accidents. It was sort of a daily thing. “But if I'm part—” I started and my mom turned toward me, putting two fingers under my chin and stopping us right outside her chamber doors.

  “You are still Brynn of Haversey,” she said and I felt my brow crinkle because even that absolute wasn't absolute anymore.

  “Brynn of Haversey and Hellim,” I said, feeling this … scintillating little spark inside my chest.

  “Doesn't change who you are,” Layna continued, ever the wise sage. I was envious of her. Her job, her heritage, the simplicity but importance of her life. I wanted that. Mom kissed me on the forehead, quirked a smile and stepped back.

  This was as far as our escort went.

  No big deal considering all we had to do was exit this corridor, head down one more flight of stairs and take the first hall on our right. I'd lived in one of three rooms in this castle my whole life, each one only a handful of feet from the others.

  “Sleep well, Brynn, and ask me if you need help with that application.” She cast her gold eyes over to Jasinda and we both knew we wouldn't need any help. It wasn't my handler's lack of effort, knowledge, or skill with academia that was keeping us from becoming students.

  It was me.

  “Goodnight,” I started, paused, glanced over at the tiny inset windows in the stone walls and the golden sunshine streaming through them. “Or good morning rather.”

  I gave my mother a proper military salute—she deserved no less—and took off down the hall to Jas' and my chamber.

  “Your mother is the captain of the Royal Guard, huh?” Elijah asked, catching up to me and looking me over with renewed interest. “How have we never met before?”

  “Why would we?” I asked as he quirked a brow, like he knew something I didn't.

  “Because, I'm the queen's nephew,” he said, a split-second before I walked right smack into the closed hallway door.

  Sleep was fragile and chaotic for me, coming in fits and bursts, rife with nightmares born of anxieties and fears. It was really the last thing I needed after the day … night and day? … we'd had. Hell's bells, I couldn't even quite figure out how much time had elapsed since we'd arrived at Grandberg Manor and then found ourselves back here. An entire day, I think, with too much activity and not enough sleep.

  And still, Jasinda couldn't bring herself to rest.

  She left me in my bed and let Elijah sleep in hers—ghosts didn't have to sleep, of course, but those that did were invariably saner than those that didn't—while she sat at the desk in the common room of our chambers and worked furiously on the Royal College application. Even allowing Elijah to see her room was a big deal; it was supposed to be sacred. My guess was that Jas was more interested in being alone at her desk so she could concentrate than she was about propriety.

  “You work too hard,” I grumbled as I dragged myself out of my room, wearing nothing but a see-through nightie made of white Amerin silk and forgetting that Elijah might be there to admire the dark spots of my brown nipples through the fabric.

  “The deadline for applications is the end of the weekend,” Jas said, her lids drooping but her gaze focused and sharp. “I want to get this into Matz so he can look it over before we turn it in.”

  Matz was Jasinda's scribe friend, this rather hunky but rude Amerin royal who was too good at his job. I always wanted to kick his … bum or at the very least give him a black eye or something, but it'd be a shame to put him out of commission when he was as talented as he was. Stupid bleeding blatherer, I thought as I rubbed my palms down my face. I was about ninety percent sure that Matz was in love with Jasinda, but since she'd never once mentioned to me how handsome he was—and as much as I hated him, he was handsome—I figured she either wasn't interested or was so interested she was pretending not to be interested.

  Ugh.

  And now I was just confusing myself.

  I was too tired for this crap.

  “What time is it?” I asked, standing up and wobbling precariously. Well-rested and alert Brynn was clumsy enough, but tired and groggy Brynn of Haversey? The epitome of walking disaster.

  Stumbling over to the window, I peeked out at the front courtyard and saw torches flickering orange and yellow in the darkness.

  “Nearly dinner time,” Jasinda said as I touched a hand to the ancient timekeeper on the windowsill. Pressing the silver button at one end released the clasp, and the top popped up, showing me a swirling mix of pearlescent colors and a clockface with the exact hour, minute, and second.

  Timekeepers—this type was simply called a pocket watch—were expensive as flub. One as nice as this would cost twice as many gems as I had in savings (although I was not known for my skills with finances and tended to overspend). A time whisperer had to enchant it, imprint the item with a sense of urgency. This particular one was a hand-me-down from Jasinda's grandfather, an accomplished time whisperer that worked for the queen's mother.

  Staring at the pocket watch, I felt my heart start to pick up speed, racing inside the empty hollow of my chest. It felt stretched, bent out of shape from yesterday. Er, today? This morning? Stupid gods.

  But that didn't stop my thoughts from straying to the prince and making my pulse thunder like crazy in my throat. Why do I have to get so worked up at just the thought of him? I wondered, plucking at the chain of the pocket watch and then jumping in surprise when I felt warm breath feather against the back of my neck.

  “I can't decide what I'm more interested in—that beautiful old timekeeper … or your curvy body swathed in silk.” Spinning around, I did three things simultaneously: knocked Jasinda's inkwell over and spilled black liq
uid all over her desk and her lap (thank Haversey's bouncing breasts that she was able to pick up the application before it got drenched), sent the timekeeper flying out the open window, and slid my wings across Elijah's stupidly warm and oddly corporeal form.

  “The watch, Brynn!” Jasinda shouted, but Elijah beat me to it, slipping through the wall and dropping with dizzying speed. With a massive burst of power, he caught the pocket watch and kept it from hitting the ground. At the same time, his beautiful form practically winked out of existence, his magic completely and utterly spent on touching a physical object.

  He didn't even have enough power left to keep it afloat for more than a few seconds, dropping it safely onto the grass five stories below our window.

  “Oh, thank Haversey,” Jasinda breathed as Elijah floated back up, looking smug as hell as he walked right back through the wall to stand in front of me.

  “Don't act like you're some sort of hero!” I said, shoving him in his broad, beautiful chest and finding him freezing cold. “It was your fault it got knocked out in the first place.”

  “Well, on the plus side, I have decided what I'm more interested in,” Elijah continued, giving me a saucy look that should've rightfully been diminished by his blue-white spirit form … but really wasn't at all. Parts of me low in my belly warmed up, and I felt this sense of aching emptiness between my thighs that wanted to be filled. I stifled a groan and resisted the urge to put my face in my hands. Lamenting how little sex I was getting in front of Elijah of Haversey was not an option. “I'll give you a hint,” Elijah continued, leaning in close to me. “And it's not the watch.”

  “It's the ghost, isn't it?” Jasinda said, setting the Royal College application aside and glancing down at her ruined breeches. Fortunately, she wasn't angry with me. She never got mad at my clumsy mistakes, not unless I was being intentionally neglectful or careless. I didn't ask to grow up to be five foot five with wings almost double my own height, and she knew it. I did the best I could with what I had.

  “It is the ghost,” I snapped, crossing my arms under my breasts. All that managed was to push them up so the dark shadows of my nipples showed through the pale silk of my nightgown. “And he is a flubbing pervert.”

  “Do you want me to avert my eyes?” Elijah purred as Jas reached up and touched her spirit charm, a sharp flash of silver light accompanying the breaking glass as raw Haversey magic spilled out and surrounded her. She blinked several times and focused on Elijah with that same raw, wild surprise that hit her every time she got the second sight.

  “Yes, I want you to avert your eyes,” I said as Elijah flicked his attention over to Jasinda's sapphire gaze. She looked a little ridiculous with the dark ink splotch over her crotch, but no less fierce when she crossed her arms over her chest and gave Elijah her sternest, most savage stare.

  “Listen,” she began, and I could tell this was the tone that brooked no arguments. When Jasinda Makalina Miren was in this mood, there was no messing with her. “You're going to be around for a while it seems. And you're attached to Brynn which means we don't really have the option of getting a lot of space from you. So here's the thing.” Jasinda strode forward and got up in Elijah's face.

  She was tall; he was taller. But honestly, they made like the perfect Amerin couple. They were both tall, pale, with dark hair and perfectly straight noses, full lips and sculpted cheekbones.

  The bee stung the inside of my tummy again and I glared, taking my irritation out on Elijah.

  “Here's the thing, huh?” Elijah asked, the crispness of his royal accent sneaking into his words as he flicked his gaze over to me, the edge of his mouth curving up into a teasing smile. He had this lazy, aristocratic air about him that made me both crazy and … made that empty throbbing between my thighs ache fiercely enough that I had to shift uncomfortably, the cool spring air ruffling the feathers on my wings.

  “We have boundaries, okay? Me and Brynn … and you. You do not peep on us when we are naked—”

  “I would never,” Elijah said, but the way he stepped back from Jasinda and leaned against the wall behind him, wings spread out to either side but drooping languidly across the floor, I sort of had the idea that he would.

  “No peeping on us and no making us feel uncomfortable in our own place, in our own rooms. Be respectful. Brynn has a right to wear a nightgown without you zoning in on her nipples.”

  Elijah raised his eyebrows as Jasinda exhaled her breath in a rush and looked down at the stain on her pants.

  “Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get some fresh clothes and head down to the bathhouse. Brynn?”

  “I'll join you,” I said, smirking at Elijah and flipping him my middle finger. It was a gesture that meant flub you, bum-hole in pretty much every country on this continent and the three closest neighbors. It was a universal way of saying, take that, you jerk.

  A feather popped off my wing which made me curse which made another feather pop off as Elijah threw his head back and laughed at me, pausing for just the briefest moment to let his eyes skim over my curvy figure, draped in silk and hiding nothing.

  Even as I was annoyed at him looking, I wanted him to keep doing it.

  “Sorry,” he whispered just as I closed my bedroom door, popping his head through the wall to smirk at me, “I won't stare so hard at your beautiful nipples or that perfect round curve of ass again—I just wanted to make sure we were even for you ogling my dick yesterday.”

  And then he disappeared and I was left standing there with my mouth hanging open.

  Arrogant flubbing blatherer he might have been … but he also had a point.

  The bathhouse was nearly empty, so Jasinda and I were able to get in and out quickly, dressing in fresh clothes and taking advantage of all the wonderful lotions, oils, and perfumes that the castle staff kept stocked in the dressing room.

  “I smell like roses and cosmos today,” Jasinda said, closing her eye and leaning back in the white chaise dressed in a sapphire blue Amerin silk shirt that matched her eyes, a pair of dark brown leather pants with crisscross laces on the sides, and tall suede boots that reached her knees.

  She looked regal, elegant, sophisticated, polished … everything that I was not.

  Glancing in the mirror, I tried to see myself through Elijah's eyes, taking in the swell of my breasts under a gold Amerin silk shirt that brought out my eyes, a pair of black breeches, and red leather boots. My white hair was in a half-updo, with a complicated nest of braids at the back of my scalp—courtesy of Jasinda—and the rest hanging in a white sheet down my back, all the way to the floor.

  My wings stretched out behind me like a dark cloak, the slits in my shirt sized just right for the narrow bases. Shiny black buttons ran from the shoulders all the way down the front of the shirt, merging together into a single line straight down the center. It was a complicated design, made specifically so that I could slip into it with my wings and button it all up. I had no idea how anyone got dressed without a competent handler like Jasinda.

  “I chose vetiver and amber today,” I said, hooking on my sword belt and sticking the jeweled Haversey knife in its sheath. I put Hellim's knife on the opposite side, the black and red hilt impossibly conspicuous.

  As far as Hellim's star … I held it in my palm, staring down at the black steel and knowing that as soon as I put it around my neck … it was never coming off. Oh, the chain might break or get snapped in combat, but within minutes, it would be back. I'd be wearing this thing for the rest of my life.

  “Are you okay?” Jasinda asked, standing up from the chair and making her way over to me, her dark hair hanging in voluminous blue-black waves around her shoulders. It was just as long as mine, falling nearly to the floor. The only difference was the peppy little curl at the end of hers, keeping it from actually brushing the ground.

  “I'm …” I started, not at all sure what it was I was feeling.

  Hellim's gift.

  Haversey's gift.

  I wasn't supposed to be
blessed by both the light and dark, was I?

  “I'm not sure what to think,” I admitted. I didn't feel any different except for, you know, the strange feeling in my chest where the gods' magic had sat yesterday. But I imagined that would go away over time. “As far as Hellim … I guess I'd have to try his powers out to see if they worked?”

  Jasinda smiled at me and closed her hand over the star, raising a single brow.

  “May I?” she asked and I nodded, sweeping the heavy wave of my hair forward as Jas hooked the necklace around my throat, and I tucked it beneath my silver Haversey star. She clasped it and stepped back, giving me a look in the mirror. “Do you feel anything now?”

  Closing my eyes, I exhaled and listened to the eternal song of Haversey's magic playing inside the very depths of my soul. It was like a flute, airy and light and cheerful. But when I concentrated harder, I could hear something else, something unfamiliar … the dark scintillating tones of a pipe organ.

  Hellim.

  Flicking my lids back open, I glanced at Jasinda with a tight smile.

  “I think so,” I said, running my tongue across my lower lip and letting go of the necklaces, feeling the metal warm up against my skin. “But it's minor.” Turning to look at Jas more fully, I saw her aristocratic features tighten with worry. “I'm sure we'll get a nasty surprise when we least expect it,” I said, exhaling and running my palms down the front of my gold silk shirt. “Dinner, then?”

  “You want to see Air, don't you?” she asked, but even though I knew my cheeks were flaming copperberry red, I decided to ignore her, heading for the door to the bathhouse antechamber where Elijah was waiting.