With no other options, Neva is forced to put her trust and hope into these three sinfully sexy brothers who hide a secret of their own…
Searching for answers to her past, the four embark on a journey into the shadowy world of magic and monsters, wars and treachery, and lustful desire.
Something dark brews on the horizon.
A huntsman lurks in every shadow.
But nothing can keep Neva’s mind from her burning need for Reve’s touch in the land of dreams, for Herrick’s stolen kisses and for Malvolo’s all-consuming hunger.
The Happily Never After Reverse Harem Series Features: Snow White, Goldilocks, Rose Red, Sleeping Beauty, Tinkerbell, Cinderella, Bo Peep, Belle, The Little Mermaid, & Red Riding Hood
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SNOW
ONE
Neva
Air escapes me in an undignified wheeze as I hit the unfinished hardwood floor, and I curl onto my side to minimize the pain of what’s coming next.
The toe of Darius’ boot catches me in the ribs, just below my sternum, where he knows the bruises won’t show. Bruises don’t make money. And that’s what Darius is after. Even so, no man who’s entered the Wicked Lyre Tavern has ever had the chance to get a good look at my tits. No one except Darius, that is.
But that’s the price of sharing the attic space above the tavern with him. I’m given three meals a day, and a hit of the only thing that makes living in this miserable place remotely tolerable.
The force of his kick flips me onto my back and I turn my head sharply to the side, hiding my face behind the sable fall of my hair. I’m not giving him the satisfaction of seeing the tears that squeeze from the corners of my eyes.
“I said get up, slag. Are you deaf as well as stupid?”
I choke on my response, producing only a few inarticulate coughs instead of an answer. I do manage to prop myself up on one elbow, peeking up from beneath a fringe of hair to ascertain just how pissed he is. He wakes me like this most mornings, and I have to say, I prefer it to the mornings when he tries a gentler approach. Namely, when he prods me awake with his cock and demands I satisfy him. Somehow, the beatings seem a little more dignified.
“Maybe, if you hadn’t kept me up all night,” I grumble under my breath, crawling onto all fours. I keep my voice low, though. I’m sore enough as it is. Besides, push Darius too hard and he’ll decide to teach me a lesson. One I don’t want to learn.
“What was that, slag?” he demands.
Yes. Definitely pissed. I’m not sure what I’ve done to earn his ire this early in the morning, but it doesn’t bode well for the rest of the day.
I manage to get my shaking legs beneath me and climb to my feet, leaning against the opposite wall for balance. I hug the wall, feeling like the most wretched creature in the entire city of Ascor. I doubt there’s a soul between here and the Forest of No Return that feels as shitty as I do at the moment.
When I manage to stop shaking, I turn in a slow half-circle to face the man who’s both my tormentor and my savior. Darius leans against the vanity, careful not to disrupt the glass bottles and creams on its surface.
He watches me struggle, a cruel glint of amusement in his dark eyes. I wish he didn’t look so much like his father. It makes it harder for me to hate him as much as I should.
Gregory was the only man who ever showed me an ounce of kindness, and it chafes me that this little bastard wears Gregory’s face. It’s not an especially handsome countenance: too boxy to be traditionally handsome, the eyes too deep-set and far apart, nose too large and teeth not large enough. But where Gregory’s eyes were kind, Darius’ always have the mean, rangy look of a feral cat. And he has the temper to match. He’s also shorter and thinner than his father ever was.
“You’re dancing in the back room tonight,” Darius informs me, flicking the closet door open to reveal the small selection of gowns he’s procured for my act.
All are made of silky or sheer fabrics and would easily cost a year of my wages. They’ve more than paid for Darius’ tavern in the last few years. More accurately, I have more than paid for this tavern. After all, it’s my body men are flocking to see.
“Please.” The ragged entreaty is all I can force from my shaking lips.
He knows what I’m asking for.
Darius has kept it from me for three days. He can’t honestly expect me to dance while my stomach tosses like a ship at sea. I need a bump if I’m going to be able to make it on stage sometime tonight.
I can read the answer on his face before he ever opens his mouth. That hateful smirk tics up a few degrees; he’s clearly enjoying my distress. It’s a rare treat for him to hear me beg like this. The last time he got the satisfaction, I literally came crawling back on hands and knees, begging for another dose.
Hopefully I won’t have to do that again this morning.
He toys with the small, leather pouch at his waist, jiggling it in my direction as a taunt before flipping the material of his coat over his front to hide it from view.
“You’ll get it when you’ve earned it, slag.” Then he chuckles as he sneers down at me. “A group of merchants are selling their wares along Gendar Street for the next fortnight before moving north. At least half of ‘em will be
