FAZER LOGIN“Arghhhhh! Stay away from me, you perverts!” I scrambled to my knees on the bed (come to think of it, it was a really soft bed.
The strangeness of it registered somewhere in my mind but I was far too occupied at the moment to think too much of it), and eyed the two (frightened?) women fearfully. “Oh, thank gods, yer awake, Sigrùn!” said one of them. She was a middle-aged woman with wild, tawny hair. I got a feeling she had a tough time taming all that hair because it was all over the place. Her eyes–which watched me fearfully–were deep set and brown. Her startled face quickly turned into a stern frown. “An’ what was all that screaming about? Ye almost gave us a fright, yer highness!” said the second lady. The first thing I noticed about her were her freckles–they were too many to miss. They covered most her face and neck, and there was a generous dusting across her little pixie nose. Her large dark blue eyes were equally widened in fear. Her brown hair which was knotted in low pigtails reminded me of a little child. Had we met under different circumstances, I probably would have thought that she was cutest young woman I’d ever seen. …and did she just call me “your highness”? My eyes darted back and forth between them. I clutched the sheets higher to my chest. “Stay back!” I yelled fearfully. “W-what are you doing in m-my apartment? Leave now or–or I’ll call the police!” They both kept on watching me like I was out of my mind. The cute one looked like she was about to cry. “Yer highness!” she gasped and pressed a hand to her chest as though she had just realized something terrible. “Did ye hit yer head when ye fell?” What? The stern one tutted and said, “We doona have time for this, yer highness. Yer wedding is in a few hours. We have ta get ye ready before then. What, with the flowers and corsets and all–“ “Aye, aye, and don’t forget her hair and dress–they’re really filthy–“ the cute one cut in. “Aye I was getting ta that, Conny, if only ye didn’ cut me off–“ “ ‘Was just saying, only because I thought ye forgot!–“ On and on they argued. I had a feeling that this was something they did often, but I didn’t have the time or empathy to listen to them because right then I was losing my freaking mind. “Stop it! Stop it, both of you!” I yelled at them. They both turned to look at me. “Oh, yer highness–“ “And stop calling me that!” “Oh!” they both gasped in surprise. But I wasn’t done. “Yeah, “oh!” “ I sneered haughtily. “That’s what you’re gonna be saying when the cops come to get you soon. Oh–ho–ho! You both have a handful of charges against you already,” I sang, wagging my finger at them. “Y-you broke into my apartment and–and–“ my voice trailed off as my eyes scanned the room. Hold on. Since when did my apartment look like this? The walls were painted a deep, exquisite red. And they even had those chic flowery patterns you only see in houses on TV. For the first time I noticed that the bed had an elegant shimmery gold canopy overhead. And the sheets. Oh, the pink sheets were just about the softest things I’d ever felt in my life. They felt–and oh God, even smelled– like candy floss! There was a dresser and a vanity mirror. Somewhere across the room in the fireplace, there was a soft crackling of firewood and the heat gave off a heady pinewood scent. It was definitely a far cry from my shabby studio apartment in Brooklyn. I looked down at what I was wearing. It was a…well, it was a dress. It felt like cotton. That was the only thing I could make out since I was covered in mud stains from my torso area down to some other parts I couldn’t see beneath the sheets which I was still clutching tightly like a shield. Okay. What was going on here? I raised my eyes and saw that the two strange women were eyeing me carefully as though I were a nutcase. What were they doing here? No, no, I think the important question here was: what was I doing here? My face fell. Oh my God. Had I been kidnapped and now my kidnappers were holding me hostage so that they could ask for a ransom? Well they were out of luck because on earth and beyond I had just twelve dollars in my name. Speaking of which–where was my purse? I was about to ask the women when the cute one whispered loudly: “Oh my gods, Rita. The lass has lost her mind!” “ Quiet, Conny!” Rita hissed. Then she turned to me and smiled faux-sweetly, as one would do to a mental patient. “Yer highness?” She called and approached me carefully. Probably to prevent another scream fest. I eyed her warily. “Sigrùn?” she tried again. “H–how do you know my name?” I managed to choke out the words. “Oh, a nasty fall it was, Rita. She doesna even recognize us anymore!”, Conny cried. “Conny,” Rita warned. “Look,” I began, trying as much as I could to sound calm. “I don’t even know you! I’ve never seen both your faces in my life! I-I was asleep on my bed just a few hours ago and–and–I woke up hearing your voices, only to open my eyes and find myself in this–this strange place!” I rambled. Nothing was making sense. Then I had an Eureka! Moment. Ah-hah! I must have been dreaming. That was the only logical explanation for all this. Phew. I was not out of my mind. This was all it was—just some crazy-ass dream. Any moment now I would wake up and laugh heartily at this strange dream while stuffing my face with scrambled eggs and half-cooked bacon. It would be best to just go with whatever was happening. Besides, they had called me your highness —which, judging by all standards, meant that I was something of a royalty in this strange Harlequin-esque dream (which I had to admit was fast losing its nightmare status the more I thought about it.) They had also mentioned a wedding, but pfff—(I dismissed that thought with a careless mental hand-wave)—we would cross that bridge when we got there. This was a one-off opportunity, to experience the good life of royalty. And besides, it was just a dream, what could possibly go wrong? Pleased with my newfound knowledge, I smiled sweetly at the women who were currently staring at me, open-mouthed. “Ladies,” I called in a singsong voice. “How about that bath? I am feeling quite filthy at the moment.”SIGRUN We'd been riding since midmorning, and by late afternoon I was beginning to suspect that horse-riding had been invented by people who secretly hated the human body. In the past, whenever I'd imagined riding through a fantasy kingdom, I had pictured something cinematic. Wind in my hair. Dramatic scenery. Perhaps an inspiring soundtrack. What I had not pictured was the fact that every single muscle below my waist would eventually declare war on me. My thighs hurt. My back hurt. My shoulders hurt. There were muscles hurting in places I hadn't known muscles existed. The fuck? The mare beneath me seemed perfectly content with the arrangement. I, meanwhile, was discovering that six straight hours in a saddle was a deeply offensive concept. I refused to complain, partly because I was stubborn. And mostly because I was surrounded by werewolves. Between yesterday's journey and today, I observed that the pack rode in a certain formation: Varul was always at
SIGRUN I was dreaming about his hands when Conny's voice pulled me under. I surfaced slowly. Morning light was coming through the tent seams. "Good morning, Yer Highness!" came her chirpy voice. I sat up. And then, because I was so genuinely, pathetically relieved to see a familiar face, I leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. Conny froze. Then she giggled like a schoolgirl, palm flying to her cheek. Rita came in behind her, carrying clothes in her arms. "Hi," I greeted with a megawatt smile. "Hi?" Rita replied confusedly, like she couldn't understand the word. She gave me that strange look she'd been giving me ever since I woke up in this world. Right. I'd forgotten. "Hi" was not yet a thing here. I had a feeling she already suspected that there was something not quite right about me. "Yer Highness." She bowed finally and set the clothes down. "I brought ye two dresses so you can make yer choice." She held each dress up. One was a pink short-sleeve
VARUL I hardly waited to watch her enter her tent before I turned and walked straight back into the forest. Not because I had somewhere to be. Not because there was a patrol to oversee. Because if I stood outside that tent for another minute, I was going to do something monumentally stupid. Like stalking into her tent and claiming her the way Siren was yelling at me to. Hard. Her dainty wrists pinned above her head with one of my calloused hands. Those gorgeous tits bouncing with each thrust while I— "Fuck!" I muttered into the black sky. The forest swallowed me whole. Moonlight filtered through ancient pines, silvering the ground beneath my boots. I welcomed the cold. It did absolutely fuck all to help the tent growing in my pants. Not that the cold had ever had any effect on me anyway. "Pathetic." The voice echoed through my head. I clenched my jaw. Speaking of the bastard. Siren. My wolf. My curse. My constant companion. My greatest he
His hand moved to my hair, tilting my head back, as he trailed kisses down the column of my neck. His other hand disappeared back into the water, and I felt his fingers brush the sensitive folds between my legs. One finger pushed inside me gently, pumping in and out of me slowly. Torturously. Exquisitely. "Fuck, Princess. You are so tight," Varul groaned against my neck, like he was the one being tortured. "Ah!" I moaned. The sensations coursing through me were clouding my senses. I was dimly aware of the cold water and the moonlight and the forest sounds, and none of it mattered because— Suddenly, he moved. Faster than I could process. One moment I was pressed against his chest and the next I was behind him, his arm sweeping me back, his broad back a wall between me and whatever was beyond the tree line. "What the—" I sputtered in confusion. "Varul." A man's voice. Calm, professional, coming from the direction of the trees. "Darren." I pressed myself flat against
"It's-it's cold. I don't want to get in the water," I protested—halfheartedly, I must confess. All my insides were currently screaming Yes! in falsetto. Because when a man who looks like that and sounds like that tells you to get over here, you get over there, no questions asked. Still, it didn't mean I had to make it easy for him. "This is not a negotiation, Princess. Get over here, or I'll come get you. One of these two options will end with a spank on your ass, but I am going to feel your heat on my tongue either way." He leaned back and smiled. "Your choice, Princess." My cheeks warmed at his words. Wait. He's bluffing. He wouldn't—right? "I'm not bluffing, Princess," he deadpanned, reading my thoughts. Right. The forest seemed to hold its breath as I made my decision. Varul watched me steadily, holding my gaze. Of course, I was the first to look away. "Fine," I muttered and walked the short distance to the water, still clutching my blanket. I was well aware that under
Darren looked a few years younger than Varul. Sandy-haired, sharp-eyed, with a scar across the cheek that gave his face an asymmetry that was almost interesting. But not as hot as my husband, my inner possessive bitch whispered, forgetting that she barely even knew the man enough to think of him as her anything. Anyway, I refocused on Darren. I had been around enough guarded people in my life — starting with my father in the years after my mother died, when watching someone's face meant learning to read what they were hiding — to recognize the quality of Darren's attention. He was not hostile. He was just guarded. "You were at the wedding," I chirped conversationally. There was a tick in his jaw. "Yes, Your Highness." "You're my — Varul's second-in-command, right?" "Yes, Your Highness." Still not looking at me. Okay. I took the hint and shut my mouth. It was obvious that Rita and Conny were going to be the only friendly faces I'd be privy to in this new Northern







