The Dread King: A Reverse Harem Fantasy (The Harbinger Book 3) Page 7

  “Serious question, here,” Finn stated, cueing her in to the fact it was most definitely not going to be a serious question. “Do you ever joke around?”

  Cam’s thin lips grew even thinner as he thought on this. “I have never seen the point in such frivolity.”

  “You should try,” Finn urged him. “It’s good for you.” Though the topic of the conversation grew lighter than when Faith first walked in, she noted the serious tone in his voice. It sounded as if he truly worried about Cam. Maybe it was easier for guys. Maybe all they had to do to bond was be around each other for a while, then they were like dude-bros.

  Ugh. What the hell? A dude-bro? Faith was spending too much time with Finn.

  She felt her stomach gurgle. “Not to break the mood, but I’m starving.”

  Cam nodded, standing. “I will go hunt…that is, assuming you are all right with spending some time alone with Finnick?”

  Finnick? Okay, these guys were way too close.

  “Hold on,” Finn said wryly, pointing to him. “Were you teasing her? That’s dangerously close to joking, you know.”

  Cam said nothing else as he left their company, vanishing from the house as quietly as a mouse. He would make the perfect hunter. The Academy would love to get their hands on someone like him.

  With a sigh, Faith slid into the seat Cam had been in. She studied Finn across from her. Maybe he was only in a better mood because the two antagonists in his life were currently out of the picture. “Is it just me,” she said, “or do I smell a bromance a-brewing?”

  “A bromance?” he repeated. “Really?”

  “Yes, Finnick,” Faith spoke his name exactly how Cam did, “really. You two seem close.” She widened her eyes in fake alarm. “Do I have to worry about you stealing Cam from me?”

  Finn barked out a laugh, even though it was clear laughing was the last thing he wanted to do. “If you’re that worried about him jumping ship, maybe he shouldn’t be in your harem.”

  “Maybe you should mind your own business and not be so obsessed with who’s in my harem.”

  He looked as if he wanted to say more, but he bit his tongue, sitting back silently, shooting Faith a hard glare. Faith ignored him, taking smug satisfaction she could get to him so easily. Was it wrong she liked arguing with him so much? Sure, she’d started out arguing with Light, but it was different. That was Light; this was Finn. Finn was…

  Stupid.

  “Do you think we’re safe here?” Finn finally asked, breaking through the pregnant silence permeating the room. He had his arms crossed over his muscular chest. “What do you think this King guy is doing while we sit here and twiddle our thumbs?”

  Hiding her smile behind a hand, Faith said, “King guy. I’d like to see his reaction to being called that.” She wrinkled her nose, twirling her tiny piercing with her nails. “And I don’t know.” A lie. She did know. He was tracking them, following them. What would happen if he showed up right now, when it was just her and Finn? They’d be no match for him. “Gathering an army to fight me, probably.”

  Finn chuckled mirthlessly. “Gathering an army. And we’re here just wasting time when we should be doing the same thing.”

  “The ones who would be our allies,” she reminded him with a pang of anger, “currently think I’m the one who poisoned one of their Court members. The Elves would not make an army for me. At least, not right now.”

  “Still, there are others, right? What about these Malus? What about Cam’s Ulen?”

  “From what I know, the Malus do have a kingdom of their own, but their numbers are small, and they’re not as…civilized as the Elves.”

  “And by civilized, you mean?”

  “I mean they’re still nomads. You know, Humanity thousands of years ago? Hunters and gatherers?” Faith shook her head. “And the Ulen don’t ever involve themselves in outside affairs, unless it strictly involves them. They wouldn’t help us even if we went to them and begged.”

  Finn’s shoulders sagged. “And here I thought Cam was their ambassador or something.”

  “Or something,” she muttered.

  “And…” He paused. “…the Dracon?”

  “I’m pretty sure they always side with their reborn king,” she told him, rolling her eyes. Really, it was a dumb thing to suggest. Why would the Dracon ever side with the Harbinger? They probably hated Faith on principle, even more so once they found out she wasn’t a man. They were probably the most sexist of them all.

  Finn stretched out, knocking his feet with hers on purpose. “Then I guess we’re fucked, and not in a good way.”

  The stupid boy. Still, she found herself smiling at his words, shaking her head as she muttered, “How immature of you. As you are so good at reminding me, not everything is about being—” She couldn’t repeat his choice of words, so she said, “Not everything is about getting some.”

  “And here I was, thinking the opposite. I’ve been doing it all wrong.” Finn grinned boyishly, adding, “Though I have been told my skills are top notch. If you’re curious.”

  She shot him a glare. “I wasn’t curious at all.” But now she kind of was.

  “Everything my tongue touches just—”

  She kicked his legs. Faith did not need to hear the rest, otherwise she might start to think very unwanted thoughts. She didn’t need two unwelcome men in her head. One was already more than enough.

  Chapter Nine

  Faith steadily ignored Finn for a good long while. Which was just fine, because Finn didn’t need her to come crawling to him. He didn’t want her to. Hell, he had practically already crawled to her. After the way he acted the other night, he knew it’d be a long time before—and if—she ever came to him, ever admitted she wanted him.

  Still, it was very fun to tease her. But it wasn’t really teasing if it was true, was it?

  Faith had moved away from the house, trying to call the sword on her back. She claimed it wasn’t a tattoo, that it was basically another Victus, something called the Ageless Blade. The Second and their dumbass names for things. Why couldn’t it just remain a sword? Why was it ageless? Finn didn’t really care because it didn’t really matter. Not if she couldn’t bring it forth from her skin.

  Legally, she shouldn’t even have the two Victi she had on her wrists. Faith must’ve known some sketchy people on Earth, for no one was allowed to get a Victus until they graduated the Academy. Victi were regulated more than anything else. There was a load of paperwork that had to be done, not to mention all the blood-testing to make sure the Victus wouldn’t clash with the person’s genes. Some Humans couldn’t get them, just like the Elves and Fae. In fact, Finn was certain only Humans got them; he’d never seen a person from another race with a Victus. And it wasn’t because the Division only allowed Humans in their ranks; there were Fae gatekeepers and Dwarven guards.

  What if her genetics didn’t match the spectrum of what was needed for her to get the Victi? What would Faith have done then? It was a moot point now, for clearly whatever she did worked. She could summon her Victi as well as Finn could summon his. He wasn’t too proud of that; he enjoyed being better than others. He wanted to be able to summon it without activating it by touch, but a skill like that took years to master. It would be so much better in situations where his hands weren’t available, or if reaching to his neck was too suspicious.

  Finn was a little jealous of her daggers. They were cool, cooler than his rope. His parents paid for the Academy, and they told him, strong-armed him, to get something more practical than a weapon. The Infantry Division always wanted their perps alive. It didn’t always happen, but in a perfect world it would.

  Leaning on the side of the house, he watched Faith flail. She stood amongst the yellow and orange flowers nearly fifty feet away, lifting her arm to her back, fingers touching the hilt of the sword at the base of her neck. She flung her arm out, expecting the sword to materialize in her palm as her daggers did. But each time, no matter how dramatically she flung her arm or ho
w much pressure she put on her neck, the sword never came.

  She stomped her feet like a petulant child, swearing to herself. Around her, the flowers closed up with the movement, petals folding into each other. They would then unravel after a few seconds of stillness. The flowers in this field were more like animals than they were plants.

  Finn laughed when she grew so exasperated she activated her wrist daggers and threw them at the field of flowers before her. Two straight lines of flowers immediately closed up, arcs of fifteen feet until the thrown daggers faded out of existence.

  “Getting a little angry, are you?” Finn shouted, laughing more as she turned and gave him two middle fingers. The gesture reminded him of walking into her getting busy with the Malus. Her bare back, arched…her naked body all wet.

  Shit. He shouldn’t think about it, otherwise he’d get hard.

  Folding his arms over his chest, he shook his head, scolding himself. He shouldn’t think about that encounter at all. Hearing her say she didn’t know why she used to like him—the realization she’d crushed on him when she blew up the robo-cat-dog-thing in his face, not to mention the fact she’d been naked and wet, was what started this mess. His weird feelings. His desire to kiss her.

  A bad thing, all around.

  But his eyes couldn’t stop watching her as she practiced. Her form was nearly impeccable. The fluidity of her movements told him she was better at combat than her fellow fifth-years, but there was something missing, too. The final movement was too stiff. After she summoned her dagger Victi, she always tensed up. Maybe subconsciously she didn’t want to kill anyone. That’s what daggers were for, though. She should’ve realized it earlier, before she got the damn Victi tattooed into her skin.

  To be honest though, Finn didn’t watch her just to study her form.

  Heaving a sigh, he walked through the back door of the house, finding Cam leaning over the small stone structure that served as a firepit. An oven out of the eighteen hundreds. He watched Cam poke the rabbit-sized creature roasting above the flames. When the Ulen stood straight, he towered over Finn.

  Finn didn’t think himself short until he spent time in the Second. Just under six-foot, taller than the average Human man, but nowhere near the immense heights Elves grew to. Most of them were easily between six and seven feet. Cam and Light seemed to be on the shorter side for their kind, but Finn still felt like they dwarfed him. The only one close to his height was Jag—and that was not one comparison he wanted to make.

  Wandering to the window, Cam peered out. “She tries to bring forth the blade?” His cloudy gaze turned to Finn, who nodded. “Do you think she will succeed? She seems…quite clueless about it.” As he spoke, Finn noted the quiet concern in his voice, the care for her lingering on each word. The way Cam talked about her…it was like he loved her.

  Or something, because they hadn’t known each other that long, Finn amended. Love took time to grow, didn’t it? And he hadn’t seen Cam kiss Faith once. If he truly did care for her, wouldn’t he want to?

  Finn moved beside him, staring out of the window at the girl in the distance. “She’s doing everything she does to activate her Victi. If the sword is anything like them, it should be summoned.”

  “Clearly, the Ageless Blade is not like her magical markings.”

  Finn muttered, “Hey, I have a magical marking too.” And his was gotten legally, through the correct channels that didn’t give him an infection along with the Victus. He made assumptions, of course, but he couldn’t help it. He was a stickler for the rules, like Faith had said.

  Cam, apparently not one for personal space, stepped closer to Finn as his gaze fell to his neck. He was a bit too close for a few reasons. One, he was an Ulen, who, Finn was told, liked to hunt and eat other living things for their blood. Kind of like a vampire, if vampires were real. Two, he was too good at reading body signals. Cam knew all about Finn’s maybe-feelings for Faith, and Finn wasn’t happy about it. And last but most definitely not least, Cam was a guy. Dudes didn’t stand this close to each other. It was weird.

  Cam didn’t seem to mind or notice, for he murmured, “A rope? I would have gone with a weapon, something a bit more useful.” A coldness radiated from his body, and Finn shivered as he stepped away. More and more like a vampire.

  Except real.

  “Yeah, well the Division isn’t big on murder, so.” Finn shifted, running a hand through his hair. Even though Cam moved away, he still stood a little too close for comfort. Suddenly, the words Faith had spoken earlier rang in his mind. A bromance. He frowned at himself. She’d known just what to say to get in his head.

  “They seem to be big on not caring about their students,” Cam remarked, returning to the fire. The smell of whatever he caught began to spread through the place. It smelled similar to roast beef. Not Finn’s favorite meat. “Given they are not even looking for the missing ones.”

  Finn wanted to argue, but he found he couldn’t. What was the Division supposed to do—invade the Second in hopes they found the students? It would be an all-out war, and no side wanted more war. It was bad enough Tullie had allowed Faith to stay and practically forced him to, too. They would not provoke the other races of the Second to save less than ten kids. The fact of the matter was the government didn’t want any more wars on their plate. They had enough with other countries; it was all they could do to cease all communication with the Second.

  Until now, Finn had been doing his best not to think about the missing students. He also didn’t want to think about how close they all came to it, Faith included. If it wasn’t for her illegal Victi, the girls might’ve been lost as well.

  Funny how Tullie hadn’t addressed that.

  “What should they have done?” Finn asked, sliding into a chair on the opposite end of the kitchen. He watched Cam with a bored expression. “Sent an army to find them? Technology doesn’t work here. More would die in search for them.”

  “So you trade lives?”

  Jaw setting, Finn muttered, “No, that’s not—”

  Cam glanced over his shoulder. “But it is. You are just too afraid to say it.”

  “I’m not afraid of anything.”

  “Bold words, for a liar.”

  Finn frowned, leaning his cheek on a fist. What was with Cam’s attitude? Was it because he went hunting—was this the result of him chasing prey, becoming more combative and assertive? “I’m not a liar.”

  With smooth, graceful, and silent movements, Cam sat near him, studying him intently. An Ulen thing Finn hated. He didn’t like being observed like some specimen. He was a person, not a lab animal. “You lie to yourself about Faith.”

  “For your information,” Finn muttered, “I’ve been coming to terms with a lot.”

  He wasn’t impressed. “Not enough.”

  “Well, aren’t you the group’s know-it-all?”

  “You know exactly what I mean, even if you deny it,” Cam whispered.

  A part of Finn might’ve known, but the bullheaded part of him felt compelled to continue to refute it. Without saying another word, Finn stood, meandering through the house. His feet drew him to one of the smaller bedrooms, and he sat hunched on the lower bunk. These were children’s beds, yet they were the size of twins back home. He didn’t even want to picture what an Elven teenager looked like. The adults were long and gangly enough.

  Finn didn’t want to think about Faith. He didn’t want Cam to be right. There was not enough alcohol in the world to make him lose his inhibitions enough to want to join her little harem. He had dignity. He could get tons of girls. He knew his looks were attractive to most women and he knew how to play his advantages up. He didn’t need to stoop to some low, near-the-ground level to join the cult bowing at Faith’s feet.

  Like he said, he had dignity.

  He told this to himself again and again, but it didn’t change the nagging feeling rising inside him. Finn, deep down, knew if Faith would have him, he’d gladly go join the damn cult. There must be somet
hing in the air, he thought, for on Earth he never looked twice at her. Then again, he never spent this much time with her, either. Maybe if he had, he would’ve fallen under her spell long ago.

  And that’s exactly what it was: a spell. Finn wanted to breathe her in, touch every inch of her, wrap his arms around her and hold her as close as he could without the two of them melding together.

  What…the…fuck. He never thought things like that, never wanted to…

  Damn it. Cam was right. Finn was a liar.

  Chapter Ten

  Light and Jag didn’t so much follow a trail as they scouted the area. The flat plains of G’alen that sat between Alyna and the sea separating its land from the kingdom of Furen, it was a lot of empty space. There weren’t as many predators as there were in the giant groves near Springsweet, and since visibility was so high, Light hoped they’d be able to find their target relatively easily.

  Their target, meaning his mother.

  Sellyn, who abandoned her home and the grave of her mate. Surely she did so for a purpose other than leaving. She was a woman who could take care of herself, so Light wasn’t worried too something terrible happened to her. However, even the most skilled fighter could fall to disease, or a trap. Light wouldn’t rest until they found her, or at the very least, some trace of her.

  He also knew they couldn’t separate themselves from Faith for too long. They were her fellowship, as useless as they were. It was their duty to stand by her side and protect her, fight with her. A harrowing thought crossed his mind. What if Light and Jag returned to the house to find Faith and Finn dead, or worse, gone? What if the Dread King—

  “Can you stop thinking so loudly?” Jag mused beside him as they trudged through a field of white, asymmetrical flowers blooming near their hips. “You are giving me a headache.” He shot Light a smile, his joke meant to ease his worry. But it didn’t. If anything, it made it worse.