Den of Thieves: a Reverse Harem Fantasy (The Legend of Tariel Book 2) Read online

  Den of Thieves

  The Legend of Tariel: Book Two

  Jasmine Walt

  Copyright © 2018, Jasmine Walt. All rights reserved. Published by Dynamo Press.

  This novel is a work of fiction. All characters, places, and incidents described in this publication are used fictitiously, or are entirely fictional. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted, in any form or by any means, except by an authorized retailer, or with written permission of the publisher. Inquiries may be addressed via email to [email protected].

  If you want to be notified when Jasmine’s next novel is released and get access to exclusive contests, giveaways, and freebies, sign up for her mailing list here. Your email address will never be shared and you can unsubscribe at any time.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  About the Author

  Also by Jasmine Walt

  1

  Tariel.” Yarim gently shook her shoulder. “The sun is up.”

  Tariel blinked open her eyelids, which were heavy as boulders. Her shoulders were knotted with stiffness, and her entire body ached. She had hardly gotten a wink of sleep last night, out of her mind with worry for Riann, but with bandits roaming the woods, and darkness masking their tracks, it would have been foolish to pursue them in the middle of the night, when they had the advantage.

  “I can feel him,” she said, pushing herself up into a sitting position. She pressed a hand to her chest, where the thread of Riann’s bond strained inside her. With every mile he traveled, the thread of their connection grew even more taut, an uncomfortable pressure inside Tariel that kept her awake with the reminder that he was not by her side. She half-wondered if the thread would break altogether should he get far away enough.

  “Can you sense how many miles away he is?” Calrain asked, his brows furrowed. He brushed his mop of unruly red hair from his silver eyes as he bent down to check his pack.

  Tariel shook her head. “Only that he has gone in that direction.” She pointed southwest, and the tug on her heart grew a bit more insistent. “I imagine that we have to get within a certain range for me to get a better sense of how close or far he is.” She frowned. “I wonder if the bandits have already reached their home…wherever that might be.”

  Yarim held out a hand and helped Tariel to her feet. His grip was strong, his hand warm, and for a moment, Tariel was struck by the oddity of seeing his skin against hers. She was used to being the darkest person in the room, but as a full-blooded Maroyan, Yarim was several shades darker. His swarthy complexion, thick, black locks, and striking violet eyes stood out like a sore thumb amongst the blond and fair-skinned Fjordlanders with whom he’d sought refuge for a time after fleeing the Maroyan Empire.

  Ironic, considering they were fleeing Fjordland now.

  “We’d better get moving, then,” Calrain said. “Yarim, can you help me load the rest of our supplies onto the horses?”

  “Certainly,” Yarim said, after a split-second of hesitation. He stepped around Tariel to help Calrain prepare the horses, and the flicker of annoyance, then grief, that Tariel felt through the bond told her that he’d been reminded of his servants, whom the witch hunter had killed. Just a few days ago, Yarim had lived in an opulent house with staff to tend to his every whim—as a rich noble, he would have rarely done menial work himself, like packing up tents or loading horses. His decision to throw in his lot with Tariel had changed his life, just as it had changed the lives of her other men.

  She only hoped the life she led them toward was better than the ones they had all left behind.

  Once Yarim and Calrain finished tacking up the horses, the three of them mounted up, then followed Calrain down the winding path to the place where Riann had last been seen. The path was covered in horse tracks, and Tariel bit her lip as she tried to count them, imagining how many bandits there might have been.

  “It was dark,” Calrain said as they stared, “so I didn’t see all of them. But I believe I counted ten.”

  “That means there’s likely more,” Yarim said. “Let’s say fifteen. And only three of us. But Tariel has her magic, and I am good with a sword.”

  Calrain’s shoulders slumped. “I wish I was a good tracker,” he said, staring morosely at the tracks. “At least I wouldn’t be dead weight, then.”

  “You are never dead weight,” Tariel said gently. She sent a pulse of soothing energy through their bond. “Your smarts and quick-thinking are invaluable to me.”

  Calrain sat up straighter on his horse, and Tariel felt his spirits lift a bit.

  “In any case,” he said, “we might as well follow these tracks and see where they lead. Your bond with Riann should help us make sure we are going in the right direction.”

  “That would be wise,” Zolotais said, materializing over Tariel’s shoulder. “If you go by the bond alone, you might accidentally go riding off the edge of a cliff, judging by all this hilly terrain.” She surveyed their surroundings with pursed lips, her robes gently flickering in the morning breeze. “Can you tell if Riann is still hurt, Tariel?”

  Tariel focused on the bond again. She had forced herself to block much of it earlier because of the agony pulsing through their connection, but to her relief, she saw that though he was still in pain, it was greatly lessened.

  “He seems to be doing better,” she told the others. “Much better than I expected, actually, considering how much pain he was in before.”

  Zolotais frowned. “That could be because of his enhanced healing, but on the other hand....” Her golden eyes sought Calrain. “Did you see a witch or mage among them?”

  Calrain shook his head. “There were only men, as far as I could tell.”

  “Hmm.” Zolotais looked thoughtful. “Still, it is possible these bandits might be employing a witch in their stronghold. We had best be wary when approaching.”

  “Wonderful,” Yarim said, shaking his head. “That is just what we need right now.”

  “Hush,” Zolotais admonished him. “You are mated to a powerful mage whose magic strengthens daily. You are hardly defenseless.”

  “Yes, but she is still largely untutored,” Yarim shot back. He met Tariel’s gaze, then winced, as if realizing she was still there, listening. “I mean no offense. But we are largely outnumbered, and if they may have a mage of their own, that does not bode well for us.”

  Tariel lifted her chin. “Regardless of the odds, I will not leave Riann in the hands of cold-blooded criminals. After all he has done for me, he deserves better.”

  Tariel urged her horse forward, leaving Calrain and Yarim to follow behind. She imagined Yarim felt the annoyance simmering in her heart, just as she felt his. Part of her understood—as the newest member of her harem, there was no way he could share the same connection with Riann that she and Calrain did. It would take time to form a cohesive bond between the four of th
em, a task made even harder by Riann going missing just when they’d thought they were safe.

  “Do you really think these were the same bandits from before?” Yarim asked as they made their way through the thickly wooded forest. It was a bit difficult to follow the tracks with the shade from the oak trees darkening the path, but they could not afford to leave the horses behind, and riding was faster than walking.

  “I’m not certain,” Calrain said. “As I said before, it was too dark to make them out clearly, and besides, Riann had shoved me beneath a bush. But nothing they said gave me cause to believe that they recognized Riann. I strongly suspect we were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “But why capture Riann, then?” Tariel asked. “If they merely wanted to rob him, why not kill or maim him, then relieve him of his belongings? And why heal him?”

  “If they healed him,” Calrain reminded them. “They might not have.”

  Yarim shrugged. “Perhaps this is some sort of recruitment ritual, and the bandits plan to make Riann work for them. He is a strapping young man who is good with a sword—they would have use for him.”

  Zolotais huffed. “Recruiting someone by kidnapping doesn’t seem an effective way to swell one’s ranks,” she said as she floated along behind them. “It is more likely we are in their territory, and that they have taken Riann back to their camp to interrogate him.”

  Tariel shuddered at the thought—she knew quite well what “interrogations” usually entailed. Except… “That doesn’t explain why they healed him, if that is indeed what happened.”

  “No,” Zolotais agreed, a troubled look on her face. “It doesn’t.”

  They continued through the forest for a while, the path climbing steeply and slowing their ascent. Eventually, it leveled out, but as the trees grew closer together and the paths began to branch out, they quickly lost the tracks. Tariel was forced to rely solely on the bond as they navigated their way through the forest, which was tricky while trying to remain on one of the paths the entire time.

  After what seemed like endless hours of switchbacking through the forest, the trees began to thin out, and they could see the sky again. But Tariel’s relief at feeling the wind on her face was short-lived when the bond led them straight to the edge of a chasm.

  “Damn,” Yarim said as they peered over the edge. There was a river at the bottom, a good two hundred feet down, the water hissing and frothing as it barreled its way south, likely toward the sea. “Our horses won’t be able to navigate that.”

  “Tariel might be able to use her magic to ford the river,” Zolotais said. “But considering how little sleep all three of you had, I doubt she is in any condition to do it now. You might consider, ah, replenishing your reserves before you continue on this leg of the journey.”

  Calrain and Yarim exchanged glances while Tariel shook her head.

  “I could not possibly think to make love right now,” she said. “Not while I am so worried for Riann.”

  But Zolotais did not yield even an ounce of sympathy. “The three of you are useless to Riann if you are weak and exhausted,” she said. “You can either rush off to your deaths now, or take a few hours to regain your strength so you can properly save him.”

  “We take your point, Zolotais,” Yarim said gently, before Tariel could argue. “We shall make our way down to the river, then stop for the midday meal and decide what to do next.”

  “Very well,” Zolotais said. She vanished back into the abacus in a flash of golden light, leaving the three of them to figure out the safest path down to the river.

  After some trial and error, they found the entrance to the trail that wound down the side of the chasm and headed down single file. The path was narrow and filled with pebbles and dirt that horse hooves could easily slip on. With the sheer drop on the side, they took it as slow as possible. Tariel held her breath nearly the entire way down, her stomach knotted with dread, excruciatingly aware of how easily any of them could fall to their deaths.

  By the time they made their way to the bottom, a dull headache pounded at her temples, and she wanted to do nothing more than lie down and close her eyes. Perhaps Zolotais was right, she thought ruefully as she stared at the raging river. An hour or two of rest would do her good.

  “Come,” Yarim said as they brought their horses to a halt. He dismounted, then reached up and circled his hands around Tariel’s waist. “Let me help you down, before you fall off.”

  Tariel let him pull her off her horse, snuggling into his chest as he carried her over to a grassy area. Calrain was already laying out the bedrolls, and as Yarim sat Tariel gently down onto one of them, her stomach grumbled loudly.

  “Oh, all right,” she said sheepishly as Yarim and Calrain smirked at her. “I’ll eat.”

  “There is no shame in admitting you need a break,” Yarim assured her as he handed her a hunk of bread and cheese. “We have been riding for a good six hours, and none of us slept much last night.”

  “We also aren’t used to traveling this much,” Calrain pointed out as he sat down on the bedroll on Tariel’s right. He drew his knees up to his chest as he munched on his crust of bread, his silver gaze thoughtful. “Before you, I never would have lasted more than a few hours on a horse, never mind days and days of travel. My body has grown stronger, but yours has not, Tariel. We all have our limitations.”

  “It would have been nice if I had gotten enhanced strength and healing,” Tariel said, only half-joking. “But I suppose I’ll have to content myself with magic.”

  Yarim snorted. “I consider anyone who wields even a drop of power to be damned lucky. Even in the Maroyan Empire, only one in every twenty-five women wields magic. And in men, it is even rarer. My own sister was a mage of middling strength, and I always envied her.”

  “In men?” Calrain echoed, sounding shocked. “But I thought only women had magic!”

  “As I said,” Yarim said around a mouthful of food, “it is very rare. But every once in a while, a male child will exhibit some magical talent. It might be as simple as being able to sense the presence of a body of water—quite useful in the desert, mind you—or being able to influence feelings to get someone to do your bidding.”

  “Interesting,” Tariel said. “I think that if Sir Jerrold had known that, he would have had you arrested much sooner.”

  Yarim’s full lips quirked up at the corners. “He didn’t seem to like me much upon our first meeting. But I imagine he no longer believes I am the one with magic, now that he has seen what you can do.”

  The reminder of their encounter with Sir Jerrold in the inn sobered them all. Tariel’s skin went cold as she remembered how she had blasted the witch hunter and his remaining knight through the wall with a bolt of magic. He should not have been able to survive such a blow, and yet, according to Riann and Yarim, only his companion had been found in the snow. Somehow, the deadly witch hunter had gotten away, and though he was probably gravely wounded, Tariel would be a fool to think he would retreat to his cave to lick his wounds.

  No, a man like that, possessed by the soul-devouring fanaticism that gleamed in Sir Jerrold’s eyes, would stop at nothing until he had caught his quarry. And though Carliss was rumored to be friendlier toward magic-users than Fjordland, Tariel knew they would not be truly safe until they had reached the Empire.

  The three of them finished their meal, then snuggled together on the bedrolls. Sandwiched between Calrain and Yarim, Tariel allowed herself to be lulled to sleep by their combined warmth. Exhaustion should have blanketed her mind completely. Though she drifted into the darkness, in the back of her mind, Riann’s thread still tugged on her. She had to find him…

  The sensation of soft lips on the back of her neck tugged Tariel from sleep. Tariel shivered a little as a pleasant warmth slid into her veins, stirring the desire that always slept just beneath the surface. She arched her neck to give Calrain better access, moaning softly when his teeth found just the right spot.

  Yarim opened hi
s eyes, their violet depths gleaming as he watched Tariel and Calrain. But her Maroyan lover wasn’t content to sit back and let Calrain have all the fun—he found the ties at her bodice and deftly loosened them, freeing her breasts from the confines of her dress.

  The three of them made love together by the river, using their hands and mouths to awaken each other’s senses and stoke the flames of their need. Calrain slid into her from behind, thrusting slow and deep, while Yarim played with her nipples, licking and sucking until she cried out, her inner walls clenching around the cock inside her as she came.

  As always, the orgasm triggered a flood of magic from within her, making her skin glow and boosting her mood. But even her renewed strength wasn’t enough to banish her exhaustion, and after the three of them had sated each other, she slipped back into sleep. When she woke they would continue on their journey to find Riann. But for now, she would regain her strength so that when the time came, she could rain hell on those who had taken him.

  2

  Calrain tried to fall back asleep. Even though he had not gotten much rest last night, his blood hummed with so much energy, he could not quiet his mind. He kissed Tariel gently on the forehead and carefully untangled himself from her embrace, then straightened his clothing and went to sit on a boulder by the river.

  As he watched the powerful current froth and rage, bounding over rocks and boulders as it careened down the small gorge, he did his best to collect his thoughts. He would never dare voice his true concerns aloud, as he did not want to discourage Tariel, but privately, he shared Yarim’s thoughts. The odds were not in their favor, even with Tariel’s magic.