Valkyrie's Harem: Paranormal Romance (Academy of Immortals Book 1) Read online

  “And after that?”

  “There is no after that. There’s just now.” He glances up at the tall city buildings that surround us. “This is a foreign world with strange rules. I think we all feel a little lost and are looking for some grounding.”

  I give him a small smile. “I’ll try to remember that.”

  He nods and then adds, “It wouldn’t hurt for the boys to get laid, either.”

  “Just the boys? Not you?”

  “I took an oath of celibacy…after gaining my soul back. It seemed the right thing to do.”

  Huh. Didn’t expect that. Even after all these months, these guys are a total mystery.

  “Forever?”

  He shrugs. “Until my heart tells me otherwise.”

  “Well, I should probably go back in and make sure they aren’t harassing any other customers.” It was stupid to have left them alone this long. Miya nods and he opens the door for me and we step back in the dark bar.

  Armin stands as we approach the table. He flashes me a lopsided, apologetic grin. He’s the easiest to get along with. The most adapted to the modern world. He seems to relish his freedom whereas the others still seemed chained. To something. I’m not sure what.

  All five guys lounge around the table. Including Marshal. “I was looking for you. We got more drinks, and Marshal promises to behave.”

  I lean into Miya. “Did you tell them to get their shit together before you brought me back?”

  His face is straight, but there’s a twinkle in his dark eyes. Maybe these guys aren’t as clueless as I thought. I look at Marshal, who stares stonily at his drink on the table. Well, maybe not all of them.

  “Hildi,” Agis says, his voice booming over the music. Half the bar looks in our direction. “Sit—I saved you a seat.”

  I squeeze into the seat between him and Rupert. The youngest-looking of them all glances at me through the long dark lashes of his eyes. Legends say he has supernatural abilities. I’m not sure what they are, but sometimes when he looks at me I feel like he can reach into mind.

  “Don’t worry,” he says, leaning close to my ear. His shoulder rubs mine. “We’ll behave. Not all of us think like Roland or even Marshal. It’s just their nature.”

  There’s a layer of guilt thick in his voice.

  As they fill up my glass with one of the pitchers of mead, I’m starting to wonder if I’m using my time with them appropriately. Maybe I’m not supposed to just be their babysitter. Maybe, I can help them heal.

  He follows me into the back hall, a few steps behind, so that no one will think we’re together. We’re not together. Not really. It’s a means to an end.

  My heart hammers as I duck into the small storage room where the bar keeps extra supplies. It’s not for customers, but it’ll do. He enters the room behind me and shuts the door, pulling me against his tall, hard frame. In a heartbeat his mouth is on mine, warm, strong, overpowering.

  “Gross,” I say, pulling back, “you taste like Fae.”

  Marshal chuckles and pushes my hair out of my eyes. “I didn’t kiss her.”

  “You wanted to.”

  He shrugs and grips my hip with one hand. “I want to do a lot of things, but for some reason you keep stopping me.”

  I bite my bottom lip and look at the man—the Immortal—in front of me. He’s tall and unbelievably handsome. He exudes sex and makes my blood thrum. He’s awful; sadistic and deadly, violent and greedy. He’s wholly unrepentant and when he kisses me I can taste the sin, the rage and destruction.

  I feel something other than the pain threatening to swallow me whole.

  His hand travels from my hip up my side, fingers grazing my bare shoulder until they settle behind my neck.

  “I won’t stop you now,” I tell him, although he already knows. We’ve been doing this for weeks. Sneaking around behind the others, finding hidden spots, or stolen moments. It’s stupid. Reckless.

  Addictive.

  He smiles at my statement, lips curled and his green eyes peering into my soul, aware that I need something—anything to cling onto, and he’s more than willing to be that anchor. He needs something, too. This works. For now.

  3

  Hildi

  Circe kicks us out at two, giving Morgan and the guys a little more peace. It’s still nice outside, and we walk home from the bar on the dark, quiet streets.

  “I’m assuming they don’t know who the father is?” Armin asks. Apparently, he’s struggled with the idea of the Ravens being Morgan’s harem, but it took a lot of alcohol to get him to say it out loud.

  “No,” Agis says, slapping the huge man on the head. “They’re not worried about it. It’s just theirs. Five men, a lady, and a baby.”

  Roland shakes his head. “I don’t understand how no one gets jealous. Don’t they get jealous?”

  Rupert’s cheeks turn pink, probably thinking about Morgan and the guys in a compromised position. It’s hard not to. They cast an energy through the house every time they’re together. With his hands shoved in his pockets, he asks me, “Is this common in this realm? Male harems?”

  “No. I’ve never seen anything like it,” I confess. “But it works for them. It’s a respectful, strong relationship.”

  “Could you do it?” Armin asks. His long hair blows in the summer breeze.

  “I find it challenging to be with one person at a time, I can’t imagine dealing with more than that.”

  “Regardless, she’s into females,” Marshal announces.

  “Sometimes,” I say, earning a raised eyebrow from him. He likes to put me on the spot. It’s flirtatious, but obnoxious enough the others don’t notice. I answer him like he doesn’t already know exactly what I like. “I’ve been with men, too. I’m attracted to the person—not their gender.”

  They all fall quiet for a moment, other than Armin, who chews something over but thinks the better than to say it.

  “What they have is really special and was bound by the fates. You can’t fight something like that,” I say, entering the park. To be honest, I can’t imagine a love as true and pure as Morgan and the men have. Something so sure. I mean, I loved Andi but I don’t think the fates were behind it. After all, when I chose her they took away my immortality. No, the fates do not care about my happiness.

  “Hey!” Armin says, calling to Rupert. He holds a green rubber ball in his hands. “Run down the street and try to catch it.”

  Rupert takes off, dashing down the street. He’s fast. Roland rears back and throws the ball as hard as he can, then whoops as it zings past Armin’s ear, nearly nicking it. Armin’s rage simmers under the surface and he narrows his eyes. Miya touches him on the back and whispers something in his ear and they walk ahead.

  I turn and face Agis and ask, “What’s that all about?”

  Agis pushes his dark hair out of his eyes. “Armin doesn’t like all the idle time. He thinks we should use our skills to help people. Stop wars or something. It’s the guilt.”

  “Why is it more than everyone else’s?”

  “I don’t think it is, but our sins are not all equal. He has a lot of triggers. Hopefully he’ll work through them some day.”

  I shove my hands in my pockets. “Maybe he can enlist in the Army or something.” I’m half joking.

  “A war would probably do him good.”

  Rupert, who was almost out of sight, comes jogging back, his curly blond hair bouncing at his ears. “We need to get back to the house.”

  I frown. “Why?”

  His blue-green eyes pierce mine. “I just have a feeling.”

  “Something’s wrong?” I ask, picking up my pace. “The baby?”

  “No,” he says, but I don’t know how he would know. What he says next isn’t comforting. “The baby is fine, but we need to hurry. I think this is something worse.”

  4

  Rupert

  “How does it work?”

  “How does what work?” I glance over at the woman walking next to me with her b
londe, braided hair and thick pink lips. Her eyes are crystal blue—the color of the ocean in some places. Her skin is alabaster. She’s tall—close to my height. In human years, not much older. But I’m not human and despite the fact I still look like a young man, I’ve existed in one realm or another for many lifetimes.

  “Your powers or the feelings, whatever it is?”

  It’s a fair question even if I’m not completely comfortable answering it. But Hildi has sacrificed a lot for the six of us; her time and patience. It’s understandable that she’d want to know. “It starts off as a numbness, building slow in my gut, like a pebble growing larger and larger by the minute. At first, I don’t really know what it’s about or what it means, but as it grows the concept is more defined.”

  “So you know we’re needed back at the house, but that it’s not the baby?”

  I nod. “It feels like an intuition—which for me is almost always military or supernaturally based. I can sense a shift in the realms, or when something is out of alignment.”

  “Does it hurt?”

  “No, although if it’s something particularly bad or someone I’m bonded with, I can feel nauseous.”

  “And it’s always been this way?” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

  “Before I became immortal these feelings were more like a nagging in the back of my head. After Camulus altered my destiny, it intensified and became more concrete. I learned to no longer ignore the tug of worry. I act on it, and there’s no doubt in my mind, Morgan and the Guard need our assistance."

  We pass through the dark streets and alleys, the residents unaware of the power that strolls the streets. The idea of being immortal means nothing to these humans. The apocalypse and other realms, something of science fiction. I’m a student before a warrior, my brain and innate abilities helping the armies I led to victory. But now I’m army-less. There is no battle here, and all of us feel lost—antsy.

  Even the woman walking next to me. She’s aimless as well.

  I have no idea how to help her, but for some strange reason I feel an affinity toward her. Which is ridiculous. I don’t know her. She’s strong. But all the same…

  I’ve lived a long, never-ending life fighting battles and destroying cities. I’ve taken down armies and betrayed my family, but women?

  Women I don’t understand. I was so young when Camulus found me, I’d been focused on the war, not the spoils that come with it. My instincts always dragged me to the next conflict, and then years of slavery wore me down.

  My brothers' lust for women is legendary, especially Marshal. They’re bold, masculine, confident. I feel like a shadow in their presence when we’re around females. Yet now, on this fast-paced walk home, Hildi speaks to me. Is it because she finds me unthreatening?

  “Thank you for sharing that,” she says as we round the corner. The Nead is up ahead. “It’s quite the gift.”

  “Or burden,” I reply without meaning to. She looks at me with concern. I shrug it off. “It just sucks sometimes knowing bad things are coming.”

  She nods. “And now? Is something bad coming?”

  I exhale. “It isn’t good.”

  5

  Hildi

  The conversation with Rupert buzzes in my head as we approach the well-lit Nead. Davis opens the front door as if expecting us.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask him. “Is Morgan okay?”

  “Yes, she’s fine,” he replies, and directs us toward the library.

  It’s an odd place for the anniversary lovers to be, but Morgan sits on the leather loveseat close to the fireplace, her robe cinched around her waist. Damien’s hand is on her shoulder and his jaw tenses. Dylan paces by the door; his hair an untidy sexed-up mess. Clinton stands across the room, his boulder-sized arms crossed over his chest. He guards the expansive windows that lead to the back yard. Sam stands by the fireplace with his hand in his hair and Bunny speaks quietly to the one other person in the room, Professor Christensen.

  “Tell me you’re really okay,” I say, taking the seat next to Morgan. She looks flustered, her cheeks red and eyes watery. Her hand rests over her belly protectively.

  “The baby is fine. I promise. There have just been other complications…”

  Her eyes flick to the door, watching as the Legion enter the room. Dylan shuts the door and nods for everyone to sit. In an authoritative voice, he says, “Professor Christensen just got here about an hour ago with quite an announcement. It seems fair that you should hear about it right away.”

  The professor stands and crosses the room, offering me his hand. “Good evening, Ms. Axel.”

  “Hello.”

  I take in his distinguished gray hair and dark blue suit. Why is he wearing a suit at this time of night? I don’t understand much about his role, but he seems aware of that, immediately explaining, “My relationship with the Guardians is that of historian. Dylan and Morgan are both my protégés. My primary function is to decipher texts, break codes and spells as they relate to our history.” He reaches for a book on the mantle over the fire and holds it up. The cover is red, cracked leather. “This was delivered to my office this week, marked with the symbol of the gods.”

  “What gods?” Agis asks.

  “The gods that molded and created the guardians. The ones that gave them immortality and the ability to shift. The ones that gave me my job.”

  Agis nods as though this is enough. I’m not so sure, but I’m not immortal. I’m from a warrior race that ages very slowly and guides the dead from one realm to the other. I have powers including extreme strength, speed and skill, but like a human, I’m killable.

  Christensen continues, “I read the text, and it’s a decree about the Talisman of Knowledge.”

  Miya shifts with interest, his chin lifting. “The Talisman?”

  “Yes,” Christensen says. He holds up a page of the book, and there’s a symbol in faded ink. It looks sort of like a yin-yang. A circle with two balanced sides. “Once a millennia there is a challenge, called the Crusade, where the Talisman must be recovered and taken to a specific location to secure the knowledge for another millennia. Two sides fight for the stone. One chosen by the gods of the Upperworld, and one by the gods of the Lowerworld. The winner rules the realms.”

  “Who rules it now?”

  Roland frowns. “The Upperworld, Hildi. Imagine this world run by your Hella? Or the Morrigan? We’ve seen the face of the devil but there was always hope, there was morality and love. If the Lowerworld ruled the Stone of Knowledge, there would be none of that.”

  Christensen nods in agreement. “We have to send a team to secure the stone—the gods have requested the Raven Guard specifically.” Clinton’s face is stony. Damien pales. Christensen speaks to them directly, “You’ve done it before and you won. You can do it again.”

  “We will,” Dylan declares. “This time there’s more at stake, and it will be difficult to leave, but we have to do it for our family.” He stares at Morgan, his love for her strong and true.

  Bunny says, “Remember how long it took before? Months, maybe a year. We’d miss the birth.”

  Clinton’s jaw clenches so tight I think it may snap. “The gods speak, and when they do, we’re obliged to obey.”

  Morgan clutches her belly even more protectively. “Why now? Why is this happening?”

  Christensen says, “These things are predetermined and orchestrated on a plane higher than we can comprehend. According to the text they sent me, the next Crusades will begin on the fall equinox of the current year.”

  I do the math and sit up. “Thursday? You mean in three days?”

  “Unfortunately, yes.”

  “We’ll be ready,” Sam declares. Clinton nods.

  Morgan looks like she may shatter.

  “Wait. Stop. This is crazy! An alternate realm and a challenge with the Lowerworld? Be honest, you may never come back,” I say, finally jumping in. All eyes shift to me. The thought of losing my friends—the family I’ve grown to depe
nd on--brings panic into my chest. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I just…you guys have been through so much. It’s not fair.”

  “Life isn’t fair, Hil.” Morgan stretches her hand toward me. I take it. “You know that more than anyone.”

  The pain I feel over losing Andi flares in my belly. There’s no doubt about the conflict the Ravens are feeling. Each man carries their own opinion, but all are focused on Morgan and the baby. They’re loyal and true. They uphold their bargains. It’s why they could negotiate with the Shaman. It’s how they’ve created such a respect for and with the Legion.

  There’s no way they leave this Crusade unattended.

  It’s a sucky, inevitable situation and as the room grows quiet, I search the Legion’s face to see what they are thinking but, typically, they give nothing away. Warriors don’t show their emotions, but I do sense strategic thought behind Agis and Rupert’s eyes in particular.

  “Thank you for listening,” Morgan says, easing off the couch. It’s almost like the baby has grown in the last day. “We appreciate your support and your wisdom, which is why we wanted you to be involved.” She grimaces. “It’s also likely that we’ll need that friendship to take a new form if I’m here alone.”

  I stand next to her and give her a quick hug. “Never worry about that, Morgan. I’ve got your back.” My eyes flit over the Legion, and I nod at Agis, deciding to speak for them, too. “We all do.”

  6

  Hildi

  My room is in the basement along with the Legion. I’d lived upstairs in a plush guest room, but after Morgan married the Guardians and things got…loud…I found a bunk in the training dormitories and moved in. It may smell exactly what one would assume six men living together would be (a distinct mixture of musk, sweat, and soap) but at least I’m not listening to the happy, gleeful sounds of lovemaking all night long.