The Dread King: A Reverse Harem Fantasy (The Harbinger Book 3) Page 8

  “I cannot help it,” Light said, shaking his head. “What if we don’t find any trace of her? What if this is simply a waste of time? What if Faith—perhaps we should turn back.” He couldn’t even finish his last question. He was stupid for leaving Faith. His legs halted.

  Jag whirled around, his mouth drawn tight. “We are not turning back, because the moment we do, you will be overcome with guilt about not trying harder to find Sellyn. And, anyway, we need to find a tribe, don’t we? One who knows what we speak of when we tell them we’re looking for the Cave of Memories. Hopefully,” he added with emphasis, “the Cave of Memories exists. I, myself, have never heard of it, which doesn’t bode well to our little quest, does it?”

  “But Faith—” Light stopped the moment Jag gripped his shoulders, trying to shake some sense into him.

  “Faith is capable of handling herself,” Jag told him.

  “But the Dread King…”

  “If the Dread King was tracking us, he would’ve made himself known. Do you think he would care if she were surrounded by two, four, or even an army? No. He wouldn’t care at all, so please, let’s carry on.” Jag sighed, releasing Light’s shoulders as he took the lead.

  Jag was right, of course. Light didn’t want to admit it, but it was true.

  The day dragged on.

  It was after a long bout of silence, when the sun began its descent on the horizon, when Jag voiced his doubts about a certain someone he didn’t particularly like: “Do you think Faith will become close to Finn while we’re away?” His deep blue eyes were filled with raw emotion, with an intensity that startled Light. The thought of the two of them growing closer clearly filled him with unease.

  “I don’t know,” Light muttered, not wanting to think about it. They went along, keeping up a good pace, a lot faster than they would be if Faith were with them. No offense meant to her, but she was on the slow side when it came to traveling on foot, which he supposed he could not blame, due to her short legs.

  “I mean, she’s with Cam, but Cam is…not one for closeness. Not that I mind, but Faith is a needy girl, and I’m sure if she wanted, the Human would more than happily oblige any whim she might have.”

  “Are you suggesting Faith would be with Finn simply because he’s there and we’re not? She’s not like that, Jag. You should know that by now.”

  Again, Jag didn’t seem to take the hint. He said, “I know, but he’s persistent. He wants her.”

  Great. Now Jag got inside Light’s head. “Do you think he desires her just because he cannot have her,” Light paused, “or because he truly does care for her?” And if the latter were the case, could either Jag or Light stop him?

  “I’d say the first option, but…I think that’s worse. They do have history, more than any of us do.” Jag’s black ears shifted to the sides, laying somewhat flat, mimicking his foul mood. “I swear, if we return and they’ve mated, I will be very upset.” His ears perked up as he thought. “It will take a lot of groveling on Faith’s part to make it up to me.” Light didn’t have to be inside Jag’s head to know what type of groveling he meant.

  Light didn’t want to think about Faith mating with anyone. Not Jag, not Cam, and certainly not Finn. Until that very moment, he was doing quite well in the endeavor of ignoring everyone else’s relationship with Faith. He did his best to focus on the friendship between the group. And yet jealousy reared inside of him like a rambunctious hyll.

  Truly, Finn was not a bad person. A bit standoffish, but all in all he was fine. Strong. He stuck to his opinions, which was something. If he weren’t competing for Faith’s affections, Light was certain they could’ve been friends.

  If Faith wanted him, could Light deny her simply because he was jealous? If he could, then he could deny Jag and Cam all the same, and he couldn’t do that, because it was more than obvious they adored Faith as much as he did. Though he was jealous, he wanted his friend and his brother to be happy, just as much as he wanted Faith’s happiness.

  Did Finn adore Faith, or was it a ploy to get what he never got years ago?

  Light shook the thoughts off. He did not want to think about Finn and Faith together. Not now, not ever. He focused on the mission at hand: finding his mother.

  It didn’t matter how much he thought about them anyway. If they felt for each other, it was only a matter of time until one of them acted on it. Ruminating about it wouldn’t change it. He refused to lose himself over it.

  That’s what he told himself, anyway.

  He would not truly be at ease until he was back at Faith’s side.

  Hope itself was a fragile thing. It could be as strong as any metal or weak and crumbling like dirt. Light dared to hope they’d find his mother soon. He wanted to be back with Faith, wanted her presence near him, and he wanted to ease his mind that worried about Sellyn.

  Sellyn had been alone for too long. Light should’ve visited. What a terrible son he was.

  The gentle rolling hills of G’alen gave way to flat plains, nothing but grass and dirt. Far off in the distance, Light spotted dots of brown and grey. He knew they neared a Malus tribe, and since they were so close to Light’s childhood home, he wondered if it was Jag’s tribe. He’d left them not so long ago.

  Perhaps they should ask the Malus if they’d heard anything about Sellyn, not to mention the Cave.

  The more they headed in the direction of the dots on the horizon, the bigger they became, more shapely. Leather tents attached to poles, easily moved from place to place. Dozens of them in a haphazard placement, large campfires burning between every few. As they walked closer, the Malus sitting outside noticed them.

  “Let me do most of the talking, eh?” Jag said, sauntering ahead of him.

  Light had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. Just because he’d insulted the entire tribe when he was younger did not mean he didn’t know how to hold his tongue now. He was used to their nakedness and their furry bodies. He was used to the smell of sweat and the bodies all huddled together in tents that did not lend themselves well to regular bathing. He was older; he could handle it.

  Maybe.

  The Malus they passed nodded to Jag, eyeing Light warily, causing him to inwardly scoff. They’d seen him before, when he was younger. He might’ve looked different then. Or, perhaps they stared at him so strangely because he didn’t look different. He was older, mature, much the same as he was, while they were aged and wrinkled beneath their fur markings, much like how a Human would be. They were not a long-lasting species. They had shorter lifespans, thus their need to procreate was higher. Their women had bodies akin to Faith’s, other than the fur, ears and tails.

  Truly, though, Light didn’t understand how they could live like this. Their tents so small, so victim to storms and other inclement weather, so near each other. It’s as if they lived tent-to-tent with no space between. Everyone knew everyone else’s business, but the Malus preferred things like that. Children were raised communally, and any intimate time was either heard or watched by others.

  It was a good thing Light was an Elf and not a Malus. He couldn’t live like this.

  Jag, though, seemed at home in the stench of sweat and skin and smoke. A few of the smaller children shouted his name, squealing and zigzagging through the legs of their parents to reach him. They engulfed him in a hug, and for a few moments, Jag was unable to keep walking. Light stood back, watching his friend laugh and greet the children. The children hadn’t yet grown into their fur; they seemed hairier than their parents were.

  “Can one of you kids show us the way to Nilda’s tent? My friend and I have a super-secret important quest,” Jag explained to them, his tone more playful than it usually was.

  The kids fought to grab Jag’s hands; the ones who didn’t huffed and puffed as they marched to Light, giggled at his ears, and then jumped up to reach his hands. Light had to bend down to accommodate the children. His back would ache tomorrow if he kept hunching over for them, but he found he could not deny the children.
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  As the kids led them through the throng of tents, more Malus stepped out of their makeshift homes. Families huddled together. He heard the adults whispering about him.

  “Is that Jag’s Elf friend? The one he brought here when he was a cub?”

  “He looks almost the same as he did last time. Elves are weird.”

  And, lastly, Light heard someone mutter angrily, “Too pretty.” Like he was in control of his appearance. To a certain extent, sure, but he could roll out of bed and look this way.

  They were probably fortunate they stumbled across Jag’s tribe. If it’d been another tribe, their welcome wouldn’t have been so warm and involve a lot more questions. Questions Light wasn’t sure he knew the answers to.

  Really, he just wanted to find his mother and return to Faith. Finding out if the Cave of Memories was real would just be a bonus.

  In front of him, Jag turned his head to say, “They must’ve moved here right after I left them. Would’ve made the journey to Springstone to meet you a lot quicker, that’s for sure.” The last part he said mostly to himself.

  The children led them to a tent that was twice as large as any of the others. It even had an entryway of sorts, with an extra few pieces of leather stitched together as a makeshift vestibule. One of the kids holding onto Jag’s hands released him, commanded in a mighty tone, “Don’t move,” and disappeared beneath the tent’s flap. The other children slowly released Light’s hands, allowing him to stand straight.

  His back already hurt from hunching so much. He was used to a certain degree of it, for Faith was on the shorter side, but not nearly as much.

  As they waited, Light tried to remember if he’d ever met Nilda before. She was the leader of the tribe, like their elder of elders. Probably, though Light was also blocking a lot of his childhood memories out, mostly due to the smell and the sight of adults going at it like animals while out in the open.

  Elves might adore their orgies, but they also loved their privacy. Or so Light had heard. Never been to an orgy himself. It was not his idea of a good time.

  When the child emerged and beckoned both Jag and Light to come inside, Light thought a very Faith-like thought: here goes nothing.

  Chapter Eleven

  Jag was unsure if Nilda was going to welcome him back or hold off and be reserved at their reunion. She’d been like a mother to him after his had died while birthing him, taught him many things about the various Malus tribes in the area and how both alike and different they were. At one point in time, Jag thought he’d become the next chief, but after he left without a word, after he…

  Well, there was no point in thinking about it now, was there?

  Jag was the first to enter the tent after the child ran off and joined his friends. He swallowed hard, well aware of the crowd that had gathered around the tent outside, hearing all the whispered sentiments his tribe spoke about Light. Most of them remembered him, but most Malus didn’t trust any Elf. They were too prissy and haughty. Light was…

  Well, he was almost exactly like that, but Light was his friend anyway.

  Nilda sat with a blanket across her lap, her bare, clawed toes peeking out. Her black and white fur was mostly white, the black greying. The hair atop her head was braided in a multitude of thick, unkempt braids. It sat on her shoulder, covering most of her front with the braid’s thick tails. She never did enjoy cutting her hair. It was always growing, unlike the fur on their bodies, and she did her best to tend to it. Her ears were more pointed than Jag’s were, her nose almost too small on her wrinkled face. She neared one hundred cycles. She was the oldest Malus in the tribe, the eldest Jag had ever known.

  Her chest rose and fell with each breath, the necklace of teeth trembling above the movement. A tooth from each of the Malus who tried to fight her for her position. Most were from other tribes; the Malus under her care knew she was wise and intelligent. Their tribe was better off with her as their chief.

  “Jag,” she spoke without opening her brown, tawny eyes. Her lips crinkled into a smile. “How I’ve missed you.” Slowly, deliberately, she stood, eyes opening. The blanket fell around her feet, revealing her short, stubby tail. Once upon a time it had been nearly as long as Jag’s. Time and challenges had changed it.

  Jag breathed out slowly as Nilda wrapped her arms around him, hugging him like a mother would hug her child. He felt comforted in her arms, safe. Of course Light wanted to find his mother. Jag didn’t blame him for it.

  After a quiet moment, Nilda withdrew from the embrace, smacking him on the side of his head. “What in all of G’alen were you thinking? Just running off like that without telling anyone where you were going?” She tugged on his ear, causing him to let out a whine. “We thought the sword was compromised, so we’ve been moving three times as often. What do you have to say for yourself, boy? You going to fix this crick in my back?”

  Though he’d felt a lot worse, Jag still grimaced when Nilda tugged on his ear harder. He tossed a pleading look to Light, who looked as if he were about to piss himself from holding back his laughter.

  “Nilda,” Jag sputtered once she let go of his ear. He gestured toward Light. “You remember—”

  The chief pushed him aside like a rancid piece of meat, elbow knocking into his arm as she threw herself at Light. “Weylon! My boy, you look great! How’ve you been?” Nilda stood before him, gazing up at him as if Light were her kid, the light of her life.

  Jag’s chest puffed out. He felt gipped. How come he was scolded like a cub while Light was welcomed with open and loving arms?

  “I go by Light now,” Light told her, blue eyes flicking to Jag in amusement.

  Jag frowned while Nilda nodded along thoughtfully. “Light. I like it. Suits you better as a man. Speaking of which, how is that front going? Any lucky ladies?”

  Light coughed, no longer able to meet Jag’s or Nilda’s gaze. Nilda glanced to Jag, the curiosity plain as day on her face. “What is it? What’s so funny? All I asked was…” Her eyes widened as she understood. “Oh. Oh. I’m sorry—I had no idea. After all this time…I’ll talk to the tribe and make sure they’re understanding of your, let’s say, preferences.” She looked from Light to Jag, nodding. “I can honestly say I didn’t see this coming, but now, after thinking back, you guys did spend a lot of time together—”

  “Wait,” Jag cut in, shaking his head vehemently. “That’s not—”

  “Oh, dear, it’s okay. It don’t matter one lick to me who you mate with, as long as he’s willing,” she spoke with a not-so-sly wink to Light, which caused Light to turn a shade of pink Jag never knew he could turn.

  “Nilda,” he begged her to stop. “That’s not it. Light and I, we…share a mate.” Jag heard his friend groan. What was he supposed to do? Let Nilda continue to think he and Light had mated? His options were limited here.

  She blinked, growing serious. “Huh. And how does that work? I know some of the Malus tribes encourage it, but it never seemed to work out for the tribe’s benefit. You’ll have to tell me—and bring her here. I’d love to meet the woman who can bridge the gap between us and the…” There was another pause as she weighed her options. “…lovely, hygienic Elven.” Clapping her hands, Nilda added, “But, first, I think I know why you’re here.”

  The expression on Light’s face brightened with the hope Sellyn was here somewhere, and Jag was seconds from asking her how she knew why they came when another presence stormed into the tent, wearing a light scowl. The scowl fell off her face the instant she saw Jag, and she blossomed like the sun.

  “Jag!” she squealed his name in excitement, sprinting toward him. Before he could think to stop her, she leapt to him, and he caught her legs by reflex. Wrapping her strong, slender legs around his torso, her lips crashed into his faster than he could blink.

  Azelia was all wild, every part of her unrestrained; she’d always been unrepentant with her feelings. Her fur was a bright orange, striped with black, her eyes a sharp, shiny yellow. The hair atop her head was cut
to the length of her chin, all black with a few orange strays. She was curvy like any Malus female, the one most mate-less males desired.

  “Make that a double huh,” Nilda remarked, elbowing Light on the side as both looked on, shaking their heads. “I wonder how your mate will take to this?”

  “Yes,” Light added, “it seems you will be the one groveling.”

  This wasn’t good. This was exactly what he wanted to avoid. Azelia in her entirety.

  She quickly pulled her mouth from his when she noticed he wasn’t kissing her back, when she heard Nilda and Light comment on it. Almost unbearably slowly, Azelia dropped her feet to the floor and stood staring at Jag with hurt in her expression. “What did they say?” she questioned. “You…you have a mate?”

  Jag was not one for confrontation when he was not the one doing the confronting. Plus, he didn’t steel himself to deal with Azelia. Not today. All he could come up with was “I…” He didn’t sound very enthusiastic about Faith, did he?

  Sorry, Faith, he thought dejectedly. It wasn’t her, it was him. He didn’t quite know what to say; he was still recovering from Nilda thinking he and Light were together together.

  “I do,” Jag said finally, meeting the golden eyes of Azelia, eyes that were too familiar.

  Azelia responded by punching him in the chest, spinning on her heel and pushing past Light and Nilda to escape the stifling tent. Because that’s what it was—stifling. When did it get so hot in here?

  It was a moment before Jag asked, “Can we all forget that ever happened?” He was hesitant to meet either of their gazes. One would be amused and the other would be uncaring. He wanted neither. Jag wanted someone who could tell him he made the right call by leaving his tribe at the beck and wish of his Elven friend, the right choice to join Faith’s fellowship…to reassure him Azelia was in the past and Faith was his only future.

  Azelia was in the past. He didn’t want her at all…even if she did taste amazing.